#I wrote a little more than this but this felt like a fun place to stop for now

[kittynugg]

i wrote some more stangst. forgst, if you will

prev stangst

words: 1,737 (see what i did there.)

p.s: reblogs are appreciated, and do not tag as ship. all interactions are platonic. also this one is gonna be a lot worse than the last one i speedran it im so so sorry i'll probably revisit this later

Ford glanced down to the dimensional translator on his wrist. Gifted to him by a group of refugees before he escaped the nightmare realm, it was.. Something. He was still figuring out half of the features, but he’d deduced that it worked as a translator, watch (counting the days since it happened was fun. Thirty-two days), and a wallet holding a currency called “credits”. Luckily for him, all the places he’d been to seemed to take them.

The entire multiverse had a universal currency except for Home. He’d be damned.

In front of him stood a large, futuristic building with a holographic sign that read, “HUMAN HOTEL”. With smaller text saying, “The authentic Earth experience!” Ford doubted that. Regardless, it was the first hotel he’d seen that didn’t look.. bad. But with all good things came caveats. Because the hotel was not bad, he could not afford it.

Did he want food, or shelter?

He looked up at the sky, stars and distant dimensions twinkling above him in a display that was beautiful for the first few days he’d spent in this hellscape, and sighed. It wasn’t beautiful anymore. He missed when it was beautiful.

It’d been a while since he’d slept. Running on empty like this was a horrible idea.

Food for that day had been taken care of– he ate at a restaurant just down the street (well, he’d heard people call them “systems”, but he stuck to calling them streets for familiarity). But if he spent money on a hotel he wouldn’t eat later. But if he spent money on food he’d have to either stay awake even longer than he already had or find somewhere else to sleep. Somewhere he’d be much more vulnerable than a hotel room.

..Maybe he just wanted to sleep in a bed. Fine. Fine! He’d admit! It’d been a while!

Look at him. He had an education and he was trying to decide between sleeping or eating. It just felt like “bad or worse”! This was.. Frankly, this was bullshit. What did he do to deserve this!? 

…

He didn’t get it. 

A deep breath was taken, and he steeled himself. With every problem came a solution. And he was going to find it. 

Ideas already ran through his mind– what if he.. Tried to charm the receptionist?

He walked up to the receptionist with a completely blank expression. “I like your face hole!” chirped Ford in a too-loud voice, and the receptionist screamed and clocked him in the head with a tape dispenser.

Right, he was terrible with people. 

Perhaps he could break in.

Ford cackled maniacally as he pushed down the plunger of a comically-large detonator, and the wall blew up in a spray of debris. About five seconds later the police showed up and he had a different place to stay the night– wherever they took criminals in the multiverse.

No, and why was that fantasy so cartoonish?

As he denied several more plans, he decided that nothing would work. Then he’d just.. Go a little longer without sleep, that was fine. That was great, even! So great that he didn’t want to look at that sign anymore, or the building!

Two.. people? Walked past him, and a snippet of their conversation registered in his mind. “Yeah, so, I’m just gonna say it. I was totally lying.” “Ooh, you are just a bitch!”

Curiosity about whatever drama they were in aside, maybe lying wasn’t a bad idea.. Yes! That was it! But what lie to tell? His eyes darted around.

There was no sign of a real human in the area, he noted as he side-eyed an m-shaped person walking past. Hopefully he never found what dimension that was from. No humans in a place made to be human like. That was exploitable. 

Like second nature (he assumed it was all the liars in his family) he spun what he could only hope was a believable story, took a breath, put on his “social interaction” face, and walked up to the entrance. He fixed his coat and smoothed out his hair.

“You gotta look like you belong,” he remembered him saying in high school. The day he shoplifted beer from a gas station. “Nobody’ll give you shit if you ARE the shit, y’see?”

Maybe he could do something good for once instead of ruining Ford’s life. Again. 

Ford pushed the door open with that idle smile he trained himself to keep on around people, looking around the room. It looked.. Just like a hotel back on Earth, he noted in spite of the striking appearance it had outside, adjusting his translator until the person at the desk made sense.

“Khoor, zho- pbzr gb gur- human hotel! How can I help you?” They leaned against the counter, a nametag pinned to their shirt reading.. Symbols he didn’t care to translate at the moment. 

In spite of his exhaustion, he greeted them with a small wave. “Hello! I was sent from Earth to judge the validity of this establishment’s claims.” He did air-quotes with his fingers (nobody seemed to mind that he had six) as he recited, “‘The authentic Earth experience’-- we have laws against false advertising.”

The receptionist blinked all four eyes at him, then narrowed them with concern. “Oh.. I see.” They nodded, a three-fingered hand raising to scratch at their chin. 

“It seems to me like the lobby is very authentic, but I’ll need to perform a thorough examination.” He made a show of looking around, appraising the interior decoration. Then his eyes darted to the room keys hanging on the wall behind the desk. Which rooms weren’t booked.. A random one was picked and he said, “room 104 is already reserved for me,” and then prayed.

Ford kicked the door to room 104 open with a thud, spinning the key on his finger with a triumphant laugh. Then he cleared his throat and politely closed the door behind him because he wasn’t an animal and there were other people here and he should be considerate. 

The key was lazily abandoned on the bedside table, and Ford faceplanted into the pillow. He didn’t even take off his shoes. That was how tired he was. Now that he’d hoodwinked his way into shelter, he could afford to eat something tomorrow. Perfect! And all it took was..

He sighed.

His advice. He couldn’t believe he’d listen to him after everything. No, he couldn’t believe that it worked! He couldn’t believe he stooped to his level, and was rewarded for it with a warm hotel room! For doing nothing! 

..It was a damn comfortable bed, though. 

“So what if I’m no better than him?” He asked himself. “Maybe.. Maybe he was onto something. Just because he had a vision doesn’t mean he’s in the right.”

Rolling onto his back, he stared at the ceiling.

“What am I if not a conman just like him and Dad..?” He dragged a hand down his face. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that the restaurant he’d eaten at earlier was called “Tom’s Existential Bites”, why would he eat at– and the slogan, “Food so good you’ll wonder what the point is if we’re all gonna die in the end”!? 

Shaking his head, he continued his little soliloquy. “What would he say about it? ..He’d probably encourage it.” A chuckle escaped him despite himself. He mumbled in his impression of Stan, “stealing’s fun, too, you should try it. Can’t afford to BUY anything.”

Scoffing, he silently questioned what prompted Stan to say that. “You’re the one who did this, if I were Home I’d be doing perfectly fine.”

“You’re not, though,” he felt deranged for responding to himself like this. But.. Stan’s voice was irritatingly soothing in a way. The first human beside his mother who made him feel human and the last human voice he’d ever hear beside his own. “And you’d still have to deal with–”

“Him.” This was devolving fast, that interruption came too naturally. He was too used to acting out non-player characters in Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons. Oh, fuck.

Ahem, ‘Stan’ replied, “yeah. Him. Never told me who ‘him’ is, by the way.” 

Familiarity was a thing humans clung to for dear life. That’s all this was. The desire for familiarity. This was his humanity shining through in a place where humans didn’t exist.

“I.. couldn’t tell you. But he’s hurt me.” A hand reflexively brushed underneath his right eye. “..Severely.”

“I’ll kill him. I swear, Ford. You know I’d do that for you, right?” 

He bit his lip, unsure if the statement was true. He wasn’t sure of anything. “Right. He’s much stronger than you think, though, he would just..” His chest tightened, and he hated it. This shouldn’t affect him. 

Alas, the thought of what Bill did to him– the thought of that happening to Stan– made his eyes sting with tears. “The shit he did to me.. I can only hope he’s not back Home right now, playing the same games with you.” He blinked, and a single tear rolled down his right eye.

“Don’t–” he took in a shaky breath. “Don’t cry. You’re better than this.” He pathetically cupped his own cheek to wipe away the tear, half-pretending it was Stan. “I’m not gonna fall for his shit, okay? Worry about yourself right now, get some rest.”

Ford’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head. “I wanted to,” he muttered, “but I don’t think I can.” He ran a hand down his face. “This must be how I made you feel. Trapped, afraid..”

“Hey, don’t be like that, you..” he trailed off, shaking his head. This was pointless. The quicker he rested up, the quicker he could get back to his mission, the quicker he could defeat Bill and live. The quicker he could fucking live.

He rolled over, not without a final plea under his breath. “..Please, Stanley.” A beat of silence passed. “Just please be okay.”

Stan was resourceful. That was how he survived after he got him kicked out. Stan would be fine.

He had to be.

“Love you, bro,” he said in Stan’s voice to himself. Why would Stan love him after everything?

He didn’t know, but he replied, “I love you too, Stanley.” The next words escaped him almost on instinct as he shut his eyes and already found himself drifting off. “..I’m sorry for everything.”

[realchemistry]

Buddie fic teaser

I was listening to "Down Bad" and the idea for this fic came to me. My brain works in funny ways so it doesn't really match the song (at least for now), since it's basically a different take on accident-induced-amnesia.

Anyways, this is just a teaser, I literally thought about it today so it's not done and it might never get finished. Maybe posting it here will help move it along...

No name fic, rated T thus far since the starting point is the shooting.

When Eddie went down, Buck felt a part of himself died with him. It was like an out-of-body experience: he could see himself paralyzed, completely frozen, unable to function because his best friend in the whole world had just been shot. Eddie’s body gave out, hit the pavement, and Buck was pushed to the floor. Eddie was bleeding out right in front of him, and Buck felt himself dying along, but there was no bullet hole to blame. It was all pain, the worst of aches he’d ever known, it was like his heart was ripped apart as Eddie’s body was torn. Eddie seemed to be reaching out, and Buck’s brain went back online. He thought about Chris, about their love for each other and his love for them. Buck had to make it right, so he gathered his strength and wits, and got into action. After dragging his best friend’s body, after placing him in the truck, after tending to his wound, after dropping him off at the hospital, Buck still didn’t feel completely alive. There was a lot of waiting involved, a lot of uncertainty, a lot of crying. When he was told that Eddie was going to be okay, that was when his heart started beating again. Buck ran to the hospital, he needed to see Eddie alive and well for himself. The only reason he hadn’t been right next to his bed was because he knew Chris needed him and, if he was honest with himself, he needed the kid just as much to get through it all. Once he got to Eddie’s floor, Ana was waiting outside the door. She didn’t look as happy as Buck was expecting, all things considered. He wanted to greet her quickly and move on to the room but she stopped him. “Hey, Evan, just, you need to know something before you go in.” “What is it?” Buck was feeling dizzy all of a sudden. “When Eddie woke up, he didn’t… he didn’t remember some things. The doctor said maybe he hit his head or the trauma—” Ana sounded defeated. “What does he remember?” Buck asked, dreading her answer.

[mggslover]

judt thinking about reader and spencer making out and just doing stuff over clothes yk and spencer cumming his pants 🥰 (love your work btw !!)

dry humping with spencer genre: smut (18+) cw: just a bunch of variations on dry humping lol, inexperienced!spencer but his confidence grows throughout it, tit play, fingering, handjob over clothes wc: 1,6k a/n: i wrote this "drabble" so quickly, felt so inspired by your request. this was a really fun one, thank you!

From the moment you started dating Spencer Reid, you knew your relationship would be nothing like your previous ones. Not only was Spencer way kinder and more thoughtful than anyone you’ve ever dated, he was also more inexperienced.

Spencer’s lack of relationships and experience in the bedroom never posed a problem for you. In fact, you found it endearing that he was shyer than the average man, and it felt good to know you’d found someone who took your relationship seriously and wanted to take things slow before moving to the next step. 

Spencer didn’t mind all physical touch, though. You often found yourself cuddled up on the couch, facing him as you sat on his lap, his arms wrapped around you and his face hidden in the crook of your neck. 

As much as you tried to contain yourself, you were just a girl. And sitting on your boyfriend’s lap as he held you close and smelled deliciously like leather-bound books and overly sweetened coffee, turned you on. A lot. 

So it was a little more than an accident when, one day, during a passionate makeout session on the couch, you found yourself moving your hips against him. Spencer’s response was immediate, inhaling a sharp breath against your mouth. You pressed your lips back to his in a soft peck, making him forget about it until you repeated the movement a few minutes later. He responded with a whimper, and you pulled back enough to see the slight furrow in his brows and the twinkle in his eyes, his face speaking words he was too nervous to admit. 

“Do you want me to do it again?”

Spencer swallowed, giving a hesitant nod. His nerves quickly faded into pleasure as you put your hands on his shoulders, giving you enough grip to continue your motions. Your lips found his neck, and with a couple of licks and bites, he came undone, moaning incoherent words as his hips stuttered into you.

This event became a solid foundation to build on. Spencer’s confidence grew over time. Whereas it used to be only you who touched him, Spencer now dared to explore your body as well: his hands roaming over the sides of your thighs, wandering to the curve of your ass, kneading the covered skin as you grind your body against him. 

His warm hands would glide under your shirt, leading you to assure him that he could take it off. First came your top, then your bra. The more clothes you removed, the bigger Spencer’s need was to touch you. To take control. On his own initiative, he would squeeze your breasts, biting down on his bottom lip as your nipples hardened in reaction. He’d reach out to rub the buds in circular motions, until they stood peaked enough for him to wrap his lips around them. 

You’d revel in the feel of Spencer hungrily sucking on your nipples, gripping your tits tightly in his hands. He was like a man starved, having spent all his years without the touch of a woman. He couldn’t get enough, especially not because it was you. 

After a while, you even convinced him to get rid of his shirt. He didn’t regret his decision as you showered his chest in kisses, making him feel more loved than he thought was possible.

Eventually, Spencer wasn’t intimidated by the concept of dry humping anymore. Going as far as putting you into different positions. He’d have you on your hands and knees, your back arched as he thrusted against you. His strong hand would hold you by your thigh, the other placed on your shoulder as his denim-clad bulge repeatedly pressed against the thin fabric of your leggings. The rough material of his pants gave just enough friction for you to orgasm, your face pressed into the mattress as you cried out. Spencer only stopped once his pants reflected the same wet spot as yours had. 

-`♡´-

It was on a sunny morning that you found yourself tangled up in each other on top of his bedsheets. 

The heat of the night had resulted in both of you undressing down to your underwear. You woke up with Spencer pressed against your back, sleepily grinding his cock against the swell of your ass. Your moans woke him, and in practiced ease, he pulled you into a deep kiss. 

In all the months of dating, you had never seen Spencer in his underwear before. You could predict what his cock would look like based on the feel, but seeing his hard length stand proud in his boxers, pointing up to the small patch of hair covering his stomach, was a more mouthwatering sight than you’d imagined. 

Spencer lay on his back, his upper body propped up against some bundled-up pillows. Golden streams of sunlight hit his chest, and a tired smile graced his lips.

You happily climbed on top of him, your knees bent on either side of his body. You lowered yourself down onto his bulge, a satisfied moan leaving your lips as his length perfectly fitted between the space your thighs had created. His warm brown eyes never left yours as you placed your hands on his stomach, fingers digging into the soft skin as you moved your hips up and down. The room was filled with the soft creaking of the bed and the mixture of your moans. Another thing you loved about Spencer: he was loud. A whimpering and moaning mess every time your covered pussy made contact with his bulge.

When you looked down, you caught a glimpse of the tip of his cock peeking out from underneath his boxers, revealing itself as the fabric moved with your movements. It flushed a deep shade of pink and glistened with precum, seeming to accumulate with each roll of your hips. You didn’t want to bring any attention to it, scared he’d turn self-conscious, so instead you locked your lips with his.

He bit down on your bottom lip and moved his hands to your ass, helping you quicken your movements against his cock. You threw your head back in pleasure, giving him a beautiful view of your breasts as they caught the sunlight. He cupped them in his hands and thrust his hips up into you. 

His name left your lips in a high-pitched moan. “Oh, Spencer.”

“Am I making you feel good, sweetheart?”

You cried in response, nodding your head. Your sounds of pleasure always encouraged him. He felt bolder as he slipped his hand in his underwear, adjusting himself so that his tip rubbed deliciously against your soaked underwear. 

“Turn around for me, baby.” 

You turned around on his lap, leaning back against his chest. Your knees remained spread and bent, and he held you up by the back of your thighs as he slammed his bulge up into you. Your hand slipped to your underwear, rubbing your palm against your heat. Your clit stood swollen, the layer of cotton forming no barrier for your pleasure. 

Experimentally, your hand slid lower down to his cock, rubbing the length and cupping his balls over his underwear. 

“F-fuck, do that again,” Spencer breathed heavily.

You obeyed, jerking him through his boxers. You felt overwhelmed by the feeling of him, finally able to know how heavy he felt in your hands. Your fingertips softly traced the veins of his cock, and you could feel his breath heaving against your neck. He pressed a wet kiss to the sensitive skin, making you shiver. 

Spencer resumed where you left off, his hand making its way to your pussy. He hooked his fingers into the fabric of your underwear, pulling it aside and revealing how soaked you were. “All of this for me?”

You gasped as his long fingers trailed your outer lips. The pleasure clouded your mind, and you couldn’t find the words as your boyfriend, for the first time, slipped a finger inside of you. He curled his finger skillfully, and you would’ve believed it if he told you he’d done this a thousand times. 

The warmth in your core started building faster than anticipated. You reached out to grab Spencer’s wrist in an effort to ground yourself. He didn’t stop his movements, though, pumping his finger inside of you as he rutted against you at the same fast pace. 

“Spencer, I’m-” 

Your words got cut off as a leg-shaking orgasm washed over you. Spencer let out a deep groan, and you could feel his hot release forming underneath you. 

You hurriedly got off his lap, sitting on your knees next to him as you took in the scene. His underwear was translucent from your juices, and his happy trail was coated in his thick, white cum. 

“You made a mess of me,” Spencer chuckled, his voice still hoarse from waking up. 

You gave him a dreamy smile, and he returned it with a big, goofy grin.

“You look so incredibly hot, I wish I could fuck you.”

The words escaped your lips before you realized. You always made sure not to hint at wanting anything more than he was ready for, not wanting to rush him. You nervously looked up at him, but where you expected to find your boyfriend looking uncomfortable, his eyes shone with a compelling glimmer as he licked his lips.

“I think I’m ready for that.”

[gothicfied]

Bf!Nam-gyu / Player 124 Headcanons

Pairing: Boyfriend!Nam-gyu x fem!reader (No Squid Game AU)

Warnings: Mention of drug use/withdrawal, other than that it's just fluff (maybe a teeny tiny bit of angst), not proof read (english isn't my first language)

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who you met at the club he worked at during a night out with your friends. He took one look at you and knew he was in love immediately — Your makeup, your dress, your hair, that you spent hours trying to style it, just everything about you was perfect. He genuinely had to stop what he was doing for a second to get his thoughts straight.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who just couldn't help but give you drinks on the house, trying to make small talk with you. The music was loud, blaring out of the speakers not far away from the bar, but he didn't need to hear you. For him, it was enough to see you up close, to see you smile and laugh at his cheesy attempts at pick-up lines. He laughed along, trying to overplay his nervousness, which didn't quite work.

જ⁀➴ It wouldn't have been the first time that Boyfriend!Nam-gyu took a girl back home with him that he met at his work, but you were different. He wasn't staring at your body, looking down your cleavage when talking to him, no, he was actually interested in getting to know you. During your short conversation, he could just tell how kind and lighthearted you were. After all, not every girl would entertain his flirting.

જ⁀➴ After a few times seeing you around the club again, Boyfriend!Nam-gyu had secured your phone number, which you wrote down on his hand with a little heart next to it. You couldn't exactly tell why you liked him this much, hut he was weirdly charming and appreciated the fact that he wanted to take you out on a proper date some time. He was cute, you couldn't deny that, so you took up on his offer.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who stayed true to his word and texted you right after his shift, setting up a date and time for a meeting outside his workplace. He already had everything thought out in his head, perhaps even imagining little scenarios about you before falling asleep.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who could now actually introduce himself as your boyfriend after a couple of dates, long phone calls and deep talks late at night when you'd stay over at his place. The two of you had developed a strong bond in no time, finding out that you had more in common than you first thought. And, in your opinion, he was the best partner you could wish for. Nam-gyu was attentive, always noticed if you felt bad and cheered you up, funny.. what wasn't there to love about him?

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who you helped get clean and also get a better job. The first few weeks of withdrawal weren't the easiest on him nor your relationship, but you absolutely made it work. You'd comfort him during a breakdown, wiping his tears away for him and hold him against your chest. Your nails would scrape the back of his neck, making him let out a shaky sigh.

"I'm.. sorry about that, baby-" Nam-gyu sniffled, taking a deep breath before looking up at you. "There's nothing you have to apologize for," you replied back, a bit shocked about the fact that he would think he needed to say sorry for crying. "I'm here for you, okay? I love you, don't forget that."

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who would frequently buy you your favorite flowers. You'd always ask him what the occasion was and he'd always just shrug, claiming that he didn't need an occasion or a reason to maks you happy.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who would try to help you while baking something, but would mess everything up he was involved with. Cookies came out burnt, brownies didn't fully bake through.. whatever it was, it just didn't work out. But, you two had fun while doing it and that was all that mattered. Well, not all the time maybe (you reaaaaally wanted those chocolate chip cookies).

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who kisses you awake every morning, even if you could sleep in. Whenever he has to wake up before you, he'd pepper kisses all over your face, partially to also annoy you.

You slowly opened your eyes at the feeling of Nam-gyu's lips against your, turning your head away from him. He laughed and tried to lean over to give you another, but you weren't having it. "Leave me alone!" you blurted out, eyes still closed and all.

"Jesus, can't I kiss my girlfriend goodbye anymore?"

"No."

"Why? What did I do?"

"I hate you."

"Good morning to you too, princess."

[felassan]

Sylvia Feketekuty: "To celebrate DA day, I've made a bluesky account that I'll keep active for a few days to talk about my work on Inqusition or Veilguard! After a few days I'll lock the account, because I'm not a social media person. Happy to talk until then though. I want to say straight off: the reception to Emmrich, Manfred, the Mourn Watch, and the Grand Necropolis has been heartwarming for all of us who worked on those people and places. Thank you all very much!" [source, two]

Rest of post under cut due to length and spoilers. [Post Two, Post Three]

Sylvia Feketekuty: "In the meantime, I do want to talk about a couple of things I saw floating around regarding Emmrich: 1. Emmrich being 52 or 50. I think people got 50 from data mining a character file, but we can't do a ranges in those files. As in, I couldn't input 50-60, it had to be a whole number. I put down 50 as an early ballpark, then went more accurate in later audition scripts. 2. Fifty-two is a old number I threw into an early document before his art or character was totally final. (And which caused another developer a headache because they thought it was accurate, I never updated it. Sorry about that.) 3. "Wait, how old is Emmrich then?" Once I saw his final character art, I felt more mid to late 50s. MAYBE early 60s. But unless we specifically state a character's age in the game, it's all malleable. I honestly would just adjust it to your impressions unless stated otherwise. 4. I've also seen comments on how weird it is for Emmrich to act like there's an age-gap in the romance if your Rook is around his age. And you're right. 5. The reason is because Rook WAS younger when those scenes were written and worked on. I felt it'd be odd if I never addressed the May-December aspect, especially as it hooks into some of Emmrich's worries. 6. By the time that shifted, it was really too late to change without catastrophic repercussions to the excellent cinematics and music and other things that depend on line delivery and timing. 7. To be clear: you can feel how you want about the age gap coming up at all! But that's how the discrepancy came about. 8. "Is there a way to reconcile Emmrich acting like my Rook is way younger than him if they're not?" Great question! I have several suggestions: -Accept it's an error. (True, but unexciting) -Emmrich considers a gap of 3-5 years scandalous. (Funny, albeit a bit cartoonish.) -The Mourn Watch has perfected swapping out organs, and Emmrich is nervously hiding that he's way older than he looks out of vanity. (Untrue, but funny.)" [source thread]

User in reply to point 6. above: "I'm personally glad it was too late to change because their argument about it is genuinely my favorite scene in the entire game! 😭💕 It's such an important moment to me" / Sylvia: "Thanks! That one was one where I was all sweatily trying to balance things out, with tone, with pacing, etc. Really glad it came together for you. (Cine and the actors did heroic things there to get it feeling just so!)" [source]

More snippets:

Emmrich's favorite ice cream flavor? Rum raisin [source]

Lots of people on the dev team shared the vision of having a bunch of gothic weirdness in that pocket of Thedas [source] (Necropolis/Nevarra)

Sylvia "especially liked writing the Mourn Watch origin, it was fun to write a fellow nerd for Emmrich to chat with" [source]

Sylvia poured some personal worries and fears into writing Emmrich [source]

On Vorgoth and their nature: "I'm a little leery of saying anything, partly because I'm cowardly avoiding publicly defining anything more until/if I ever need to. And partly because I did want them to be a fresh unknown. Sorry!" [source] "I'm glad you like Vorgoth, but I'm afraid I don't have much for you that isn't in the game. I deliberately wrote them so as to leave room, if we ever revisited them, or for Vorgoth to remain mysterious, if we did not. I'm sorry if that's not a very satisfying answer!" [source] "I will say, it was fun to throw in a few lines about Vorgoth's art collection. Their passion for it is sincere and deep. (I wanted all the Watchers to have a little non-death related hobby or interest, because they can be so singularly focused.)" [source]

Dwarven Mourn Watcher is a rare origin combo for Rook so Sylvia wanted to call it out [source]

On the outcomes of Emmrich's quest: "I tried really hard to make the options equally viable, and more up to the player's interpretation or preferences of what it would mean for Emmrich in their view. It's been interesting seeing reactions to it, which hinge sometimes on various single lines pushing people one way or another!" [source]

"The Grand Necropolis is always eager and ready for a new member of the Mourn Watch to grace its ranks." [source]

User: "I loved Emmrich's view on death and what his personal quest ultimately went on to say about the nature of death itself, and how the beauty of mortality lies in its impermanence and unpredictability." / Sylvia: "I really wanted to dig into those themes, and everyone in cine and art and level design and editing and the whole team honed in exactly on the vibe. The floral stuff especially, I was so thrilled when I played through the Memorial Gardens' with the art and lighting in." [source]

User: "I experience thanatophobia and that first conversation w/ Emmrich was so affirming and helped me describe my own anxiety to others" / Sylvia: "Thanks, the thanatophobia was, as you may've guessed, a personal experience for me too. I'm glad it was something that helped a little." [source] "I suspect that phobia is way more common than people think, and part of the reason Emmrich talks about it was to express that sentiment out loud. I find it helps sometimes just to acknowledge it." [source]

What languages does Emmrich speak other than Trade? "I think he'd be familiar with Tevene, since there's surely many, many old texts about magic written in that language. Kind of like a doctor that knows latin through their work. I also named that MW alphabet "tomb-script", though I'm not sure if it has a spoken component or not since it never came up in-game. If it does, he'd be able to speak that for sure." [source, two]

User: "Playing as a Mourn Watch Rook has been an absolute delight!!!" / Sylvia: "Thank you so much, I really liked writing those branches of the dialogue. Since Emmrich's so focused on necromancy, it was fun having a Rook who could be both casual and knowledgeable about it." [source]

User: "In your opinion, what outcome do you prefer for a romanced Emmrich (lich/non lich)?" / Sylvia: "Interesting question! To be honest, I'm afraid to answer it properly in case anyone takes my answer to be a canonical one. I really wanted either path to feel equally interesting/correct for whatever you decide fits your Rook's relationship with Emmrich. (We're also in the strange waters of meta-reasoning. I GAVE Emmrich his fear of death-Sorry Emmrich!-which makes me feel a little culpable for that, even though he's entirely fictional. And that might prey on my mind when trying to decide. A very odd experience!)" [source, two]

What music genres would Emmrich be into? "Classical music is very much playing to type for Emmrich, but I feel it's also correct. He'd enjoy a nice concerto or an organ recital. Or, if he's feeling daring, a bold new Orlesian opera! But I don't think his tastes are too outré in that area. That said, I saw someone post something like "Leave Emmrich alone, let him attend the Depeche Mode concert" while listening to Depeche Mode's "Violator", for the first time, which made me laugh. (Great album. If he could get over the shock of synths, Emmrich might enjoy "Waiting for the Night".)" [source, two]

When writing Emmrich the devs wanted to try and hit the gothic romance vibe [source]

Does Emmrich mix his own fragrance/cologne? Does he ever vary it by the season? "I think Emmrich goes to some of the many perfumers that have set up shop in Nevarra City around the Necropolis, just because he trusts their judgement and expertise. I hadn't considered him varying it by season, but that's very fun! I certainly think he has more than one bottle of scent." [source]

User: "How does Lich Emmrich have sex?" / Sylvia: "I don't mind the question! But my answer's a bit boring: I generally stay at arm's length on the more explicit romance stuff, just because if it's not stated or shown in-game, I don't want to bring in a canonical answer that might affect what people imagined. My general preference for romantic scenes that get physical is to leave blank space somewhere, so players can imagine what happens next. It's not the ONLY way to do it, I think there's legitimate artistic reasons to go more explicit. But that's how I approached Emmrich (and before him Josephine.)" [source, two]

User: "The scene with the fade glow where he touches your hand haunts me in the best way" / Sylvia: "Aw thank you. Our animators and audio people made that scene way better than I could've hoped! They took such care with everything there. I want to say that little eye-peep from Rook was added in by one of them, which was the perfect touch." [source]

User on Emmrich: "i’m curious whether you think he’d prefer dogs or cats (or both, or neither)" / Sylvia: "I think he'd consider cats and dogs a little too noisy and messy for his tastes. Not like a nice, quiet plant or skeleton! (Weirdly, I actually had a scrap of banter going over this exact subject at one point. It got tightened down to the exchange with Harding about the pig he used to hug when he was a kid.)" [source, two]

Sylvia was trying to tease Nevarra with the Tevinter Nights story Down Among the Dead Men [source]. "It was really fun to tease the Necropolis, so to speak, in TN, and I'm grateful we got to actually let players through its gates at last." [source]

User: "if Rook chooses to save Manfred and keep Emmrich mortal, what would Emmrich wish to become of his body once he did pass on?" / Sylvia: "Good question. I think he'd want to remain active and useful in death. A guide for other Mourn Watchers, or posted as a mystic guide somewhere dangerous, or perhaps an oracle in the library." [source]

User: "when and how was it decided that Emmrich would be romanceable? I remember reading that he would not be a romance option." / Sylvia: "I'm not sure where that came from, because I pitched him and then shortly after that we decided the entire cast was romanceable. That was fairly early on in the development of Veilguard, as I recall it. (Could've been a crossed wire?)" [source]

Trick Weekes: "Sylvia wrote the fantastic Emmrich "the Vol-carnage" Volkarin and everything that happens in Nevarra while dealing with a lead writer whose attitudes about corpses and undead are... not dissimilar from Taash's." [source] / Sylvia: "I still remember when you gave the very accurate feedback "I think we need to give players whose Rooks aren't into corpses some roleplaying choices to express this" and I was all "Ohhh yeaaaaaah." (Thank u Trick, you were right)" [source] / Trick: "Specifically, being able to express this without locking themselves out of the content! (For non-Sylvia folks) Given my issues with corpses, Emmrich as a whole was SUPER Not For Me, so I gave one caveat and then said, "For the rest of my critique, I will be impersonating his target audience." [source]

Sylvia on the secret origins of Manfred: "After I pitched Emmrich, I started jotting down notes and thoughts on his plots, his quirks, all that kind of stuff. It was very early on Veilguard, anything was still possible. We were chatting in the writer's room about it one day, and I think we'd just seen some early concept art for Emmrich. And our lead writer Trick Weekes joked that Emmrich looked like a man who'd have a skeleton named Manfred. And I laughed and went "Yeah he does!" And then I thought about it. It's wild in retrospect, but that one comment spurred a train of thought that led to the core of Emmrich's arc. He may've ended up a very different character without it! tl;dr: I stole it from Trick." [source, two, three, four]

"I got to play with a pretty free palette when defining the way Emmrich and the necromancers view death and spirits. But I tried to keep it within the confines of existing lore. That's one reason why that scene where Emmrich talks about Manfred to Harding goes into "the eternal question" of whether a soul actually returns with the dead or not. Nevarra has distinct beliefs, but I thought it'd be interesting if its people argue over their interpretations of those beliefs." [source, two]

"the other writers also suggested a bit later on that the big choice dig more into Emmrich's philosophies. Initially, it was more personally focused on his fears, which made it 'relatable' but pettier. Without that correction, I think it would've been weaker, I totally needed the team push." [source]

"I have a few guides to graveyard symbology, and it's so packed with references and meaning." [source]

User: "Did any of your own fears & experiences, make it into the writing of Emmrich? If yes, is it information you’re comfortable sharing with us? If it’s too personal to give any details, that’s fine as well. Also, across the other games, who do you think Emmrich will get along with best?" / Sylvia: "some of his fears are absolutely personal. The reflexive-compulsive panic over death is something I'm very familiar with, and I wanted to explore that through him. Because I suspected it was not uncommon, and worth examining. The question of who he'd get along with from the other games is surprisingly tough! Because without asking the other writers about their characters, I wouldn't know for sure. So I can only really speak to Josephine with surety. That said: -I think Josephine would be polite, and grow to like him, but would never entirely be over the ostentatious necromancy. -I think Emmrich meeting Sera would be the funniest match." [source, two, three]

"Peter Cushing was also one of my go-tos as an example of what I wanted Emmrich to be." [source]

"(Huge shout out to all the animators and level designers making Manfred run, quite literally. Like 95% of his personality lives in his movement, I think they nailed it.)" [source]

On Emmrich: "I tried to put a lot of passion and sincerity in his love for the dead, and I admit the Necropolis was THE big place I wanted to see in Thedas myself ever since reading about it in a codex." [source]

User: "Thank you for letting him have that cemetery dream date!" / Sylvia: "Having the date in the cemetery was one of the first things I wanted when thinking about the romance." [source]

"Josephine was the first time I was entrusted with a new character and a new romance at once, and that'll always be special to me." [source]

User: "How much input did you have in Emmrich's appearance in the podcast?" / Sylvia: "In the podcast, none myself. I believe it was handled by a third party but reviewed by a few people at BW, I don't know too much past that. (We did provide a descriptor and character rules. Stuff like "Emmrich never swears" and "always says amongst" and broader, more thematically useful things.)" [source]

User on Emmrich: "Are you planning any other external-media stories for him?" / Sylvia: "Thanks very much, The Flame Eternal has a special place in my heart for being the first time Emmrich got to be center stage in a story. (And very flattering to hear about the cross stitch. That's so cool!) I can't speak to any external-media plans, I'm afraid. That's not an implied hint about anything existing or not, it's just literally outside what I'm allowed to chat about. It'd be fun to do something like that again though!" [source, two]

"I must give full credit to Nick Borraine, Emmrich's voice actor. He got the compassion and tenderness the character needed right away." [source]

"And glad him being closer to your age resonated, I really wanted someone older out on an adventure. No reason that has to stop at any age IMO." [source]

User: "do the mourn watcher/nevarra in general raise their pets after they die to keep them around? like a dog skeleton with a whisp in it?" / Sylvia: "To be honest I hadn't thought out this one, but it's a very good question. I'm not sure how common that would be, or even if it's permitted to have pets running around the family crypt. (I definitely thing people would WANT to do it.) You know, I think I'm going to have to leave this one in the vague quantum foam of the future. I think I'd want to not only double check existing lore, but answer that in-game (or in a book or etc.) if we ever need to. (Hope that's not too much of a cop out. Sometimes I like to leave questions I'm not sure about alone, because until it's in an official game or story, it doesn't quite count.)" [source, two, three]

User: "as someone who shares emmrich's anxiety about mortality, getting to spend time with him, and in the grand necropolis and with the mourn watch, was genuinely soothing" / Sylvia: "Thank you, I'm glad he was a comfort. It's a familiar fear for me too, and I'd hoped he would connect that way with people very much." [source]

On the giant ribcage 'ceiling' in the Necropolis: "sadly, even I don't know all the mysteries of the Necropolis. (Which is to say it's a very cool bit of art but has no stated origin yet. Could be a large dragon, a giant...or something weirder!)" [source]

On TN story Luck in the Gardens: "It was nice change up, writing in first person and with someone so rascally. I've got an enduring affection for the Lords after writing Hollix, the scamp." [source]

User: "I just love his genuine enthusiasm for everything he does. If the other party members had fan clubs Emmrich would be the president of each and I love that for him" / Sylvia: "Thank you! I really wanted him to embody a kind of expansiveness and generosity of spirit, to stand in contrast to the eeriness of his abilities." [source]

User: "What was your inspiration for Josie?" / Sylvia: "My girl! When I came on to Inquisition, there'd already been work done on setting up the spine of the main plot, and figuring out the overall cast. But one of the advisors was a little murkier. It just said "Diplomat" on the white board. We knew we wanted someone in that position, but not who. So in a game where you were out exploring, killing demons, etc., but also had a big organization to run? I immediately wanted to make a Diplomat firmly there for you. Somebody you could hand the keys to the entire Inquisition to while you were out, and know it'd be in good hands. I also thought it'd be fun to have someone from Antiva, since that area wasn't covered yet by anyone in the cast. And I needed her to be polished, smooth, but heartfelt, because of that aforementioned trust. And that was the core of Josephine! Her voice actor, Allegra, brought her to life with such lovely charm, and hearing those early sessions also helped me further hone her tone." [source, two, three, four]

"Our music supervisor Ron Dazo hit it out of the park with Emmrich's music IMO. And so glad you liked Hezenkoss! Just very fun to write as a character." [source]

User: "Did any specific watcher raise MW Rook?" / Sylvia: "Good question! I kind of left that one alone because I wasn't sure if I wanted to let Rook define that themselves, or leave it open, and also I'd have wanted a full conversation on it. In the end that was a little out of scope so I left it unsaid. Which is to say that it COULD be Vorgoth who helped raise your Rook. And that stands until/unless we give a definitive answer (or let you choose from a range of answers) one day." [source, two]

"It was such a pleasure for all of us to finally get to explore the Necropolis, I am very glad we got to throw open the gates." [source]

User: "I was wondering if there were any Mourn Watch details you wished you had more time to explore? I was so struck by some of the ethical implications in your stories" / Sylvia: "Geeze, now that's a question. I mention it with Emmrich, but there's some resentment over the power the Watchers hold as THE mortalitasi of the Grand Necropolis, between them and the other orders. There's something to that situation I liked. There's also questions of how they select people for the order. What their standards are, how closely they work with benign spirits. And how they cultivate those relationships. How deep does that go? I also mentioned in a codex "the lives and bodies of those who tamper with the undead of the Necropolis are forfeit unto the Mourn Watch." which is pretty chilling. What's that punishment like, exactly? And in general, writing about anything weird or unexplained in the Necropolis brought me much enjoyment, and it would be fun to dig around how the Mourn Watch deals with (or what they want out of) all these mysteries and entities." [source, two, three, four]

"Geeking out with Emmrich about spooky stuff was a delight to write." [source]

"I liked writing someone older this time, it was something different for me and rewarding in some unexpectedly different ways. (And thanks especially for the nice words on DAtDM - I was very excited to introduce people to the Mourn Watch there!)" [source]

"Ah, tomb-script. I named it but it was our concept artists who went developed it with the hexagon shape-language of the Mourn Watch, which I loved. Conceptually: I think it's used purely an occult or sacred language. Something for the graves, or books on magic, but not everyday things." [source]

"Some trans people kindly offered their help with some feedback on some of the romance lines and others, which absolutely made them much better." [source]

"Trick Weekes actually wrote a ton of the banter where Emmrich inquires into qunari artifacts and customs, and Taash talks about what it was like to grow up under a scholar. I really dig the dynamic they unearthed between the two there." [source]

User: "Do you remember what was written in the script to describe ✨this✨ moment? [link]" // Sylvia: "Lol. I miiiiiight? Let me look at my notes. Ah hah, I do! My note says that Emmrich "takes a second, surprised." And then he's touched afterwards." [source, two]

Sylvia: ""i hope it's not too late, but were there any designs in mind for what Nevarra City looks like?" Not too late! We've got a few sketches in the World of Thedas books, but that's it. If the team ever went back to Nevarra City proper, I'd imagine the art team would want to do a deeper dive." [source]

Sylvia: "(Glad you liked Myrna in particular. My first Mourn Watcher everyone got to know!)" [source]

Sylvia: "I'm glad to hear getting to know Emmrich has been of some comfort." [source]

[rafecameronssl4t]

F1 driver!Rafe x Reader! As someone that loves watching F1, I'm so happy you're doing this, and damn fans can be vicious sometimes so it gave me an idea. Maybe Reader is getting hate online, with jelaousy comments, saying that ''she's not pretty enough, she's so basic looking, I don't understand what he sees in her, I guess anyone has a chance with Rafe,''. And gradually the words get to her, making her really self concious when she's around him in public, girls near him that are (in her opinion) prettier and eventuallys she tries to break up with him, but he does not let her (not in a toxic way, more so because he loves her and isn't going to let anyone come between them)

Public eye || F1 driver!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: So sorry this took awhile!!!!!! But thank you for the request it was sm fun to write :)

Warnings: angst, mental health struggles, bullying and online harassment, if theres anything else lmk!

Word count: 2, 946

MASTERLIST (F1 driver!Rafe x fem!reader au masterlist)

Your fingers hovered hesitantly over the comment section of the video, your heart beating just a little faster as you stared at the screen. The clip, a simple moment of you and Rafe walking into the paddock, was already gathering attention. He was beside you, his hand casually draped over your shoulder as you both made your way through the crowd, looking every bit like a power couple.

You could still hear the soft hiss of the shower jets from the bathroom, Rafe taking his time to wash off the stress of the race. You should have been doing something productive, but the pull of curiosity was too strong. Lately, your presence on social media had been growing—both the praise and the hate.

You’d never been one to look at the comments, always avoiding the spotlight, but today… something felt different. You clicked on the comment section, your thumb hovering nervously over the screen as you scrolled down. The first few comments were harmless, even flattering. “You two are perfect together,” one said. “Her smile is contagious,” said another.

Your lips curved into a faint smile as you read through them, the warmth of their compliments offering a brief comfort. For a moment, you forgot about the nagging feeling building in your chest. But then the tone shifted. You could feel your stomach tighten as the first negative comment appeared. “She looks so out of place with him,” one user wrote, followed by another comment: “She doesn’t belong in paddock.”

Your fingers trembled slightly, but you tried to push the discomfort aside. It was just one comment. You kept scrolling. More criticisms followed. Someone commented on your outfit: “Why does she dress like that? She looks like she’s trying too hard.” Another user posted, “She looks so stiff next to him. Does she even smile?” A sharp sting pierced your chest, and you tried to shake it off, but it wasn’t easy.

You’d spent so much time trying to dress right, trying to look the part, but now it felt like none of it mattered. “Her resting face is so rude,” one person said. Another added, “She looks miserable. Why does she always look so cold around Rafe?” You couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop. You knew you had a more serious expression, but it hurt to see it picked apart like this, as if your face wasn’t enough.

You quickly scrolled past more hurtful comments, but the damage had already been done. The video, which had once seemed like a simple moment between you and Rafe, now felt like an invasion of your privacy, like everyone was judging you. You glanced back at the bathroom door, where the sound of Rafe still hummed softly from the shower, completely unaware of the thoughts swirling in your head.

Your hands tightened around your phone, and you felt the familiar weight of insecurities settling in. You weren’t sure why this time felt worse than before. Maybe it was the fact that you were constantly being compared to Rafe’s world now, his fame, his fans, his life in the spotlight. It felt suffocating at times, and the negativity from strangers only made it worse.

You took a shaky breath, trying to pull yourself together. This wasn’t about you. It was about Rafe, and his world. You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t need their validation, but the ache in your chest remained. Before you could sink any deeper into the spiral of your thoughts, the bathroom door creaked open, and Rafe’s voice, still heavy with the sound of water dripping, called out to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Rafe’s voice was soft as he stepped into the room, the steam from his shower trailing behind him. His towel hung low on his hips, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His brows furrowed slightly when his eyes landed on you, the tension in your posture giving you away. You swallowed hard, quickly flipping your phone face-down on the bed as you forced a small, unconvincing smile.

“Yeah, just… tired. It’s been a long day.” Rafe didn’t seem entirely convinced. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he were debating whether to push further. Instead, he let it slide, disappearing into the closet to grab a pair of boxers. When he returned, his tone was casual, though there was an edge of curiosity in his voice.

“Did you want to walk in with me tomorrow?” he asked, tossing the towel into the hamper before slipping on boxers. He moved with practiced ease, his body language as relaxed as ever. It was a question you’d heard countless times before, something routine between the two of you, but tonight, it felt heavier. Different. You nibbled on your bottom lip, his question tugging you back to the comments you’d just read.

She looks out of place next to him… She doesn’t belong there. The words replayed in your head like a taunting echo. You hesitated before replying, your voice quieter than usual. Your fingers toyed with the edge of the duvet as you hesitated. “Uh, I think I’ll come a bit after,” you said finally, trying to sound casual, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. Rafe paused for a moment, his head tilting slightly as he considered your answer.

His brows furrowed just enough to show that he noticed the shift in your tone, but he didn’t push. Instead, he hummed in acknowledgment, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he climbed into bed. Once settled, he turned his attention back to you, his head propped on his hand as he studied your face. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice softer now, laced with genuine concern.

You nodded quickly, your smile brighter this time, though it still didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. I promise, I’m fine,” you said, hoping the words sounded convincing. But even as you said them, your mind was still swirling with doubt, the insecurities clawing at the edges of your composure. Rafe didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he let it slide for now. Instead, he reached out and tugged you gently toward him, his arms wrapping around your body in a warm, familiar embrace.

His lips brushed softly against your temple before trailing down to your shoulder. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, like an anchor. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you nestled into his chest, the comfort of his presence momentarily dulling the ache in your heart. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice almost trembling.

~

Walking into the paddock alongside Rafe’s PR manager, Mia, you couldn’t shake the weight of countless eyes on you. It felt suffocating, as though everyone’s gaze was dissecting your every move, every expression. The hum of chatter and camera shutters blended into an almost deafening background noise, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they were saying—or thinking.

Were they silently judging you? Waiting for you to stumble, to make some minor misstep they could pounce on? The thought sent a sharp pang of anxiety through your chest. It wasn’t just paranoia; you’d seen how quickly narratives could form online, how a single bad photo could spiral into accusations and labels. If you weren’t smiling enough, they’d say you were cold, ungrateful. If you stood too close to Rafe, they’d call you clingy. Too far, and you’d seem distant, uninterested.

Your grip on your paddock pass tightened, glancing briefly at Mia, who was confidently walking ahead, her phone in hand, seemingly oblivious to the tension building inside you. She had a way of carrying herself that made it seem like none of this affected her—like the noise bounced off her shield of professionalism. You envied her for that. The click of a camera somewhere to your left made your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t dare look, afraid of what expression might’ve been caught. You straightened your posture instead, forcing a faint smile that felt unnatural, plastered on for the sake of appearances. The effort felt exhausting, but it was what you’d learned to do in this world—pretend you didn’t notice, pretend it didn’t hurt. As you walked, you could feel whispers trailing in your wake, the murmurs mingling with the mechanical hum of the paddock.

Were they talking about your outfit? Your hair? The fact that you weren't walking in with Rafe? It was a never-ending game of scrutiny, and you felt like a chess piece on a board you barely understood. "Hey, are you good?" Mia's voice pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. Her tone was light, accompanied by a small chuckle as she caught the distant look in your eyes.

You blinked rapidly, turning to her with a startled expression. “Sorry, what?” you asked, your voice slightly shaky. She chuckled again, tilting her head curiously. “Are you okay? You seem nervous,” she repeated, her eyes scanning your face as the two of you approached the Ferrari area. “Yeah! Yeah—I’m fine, just jet lagged,” you replied quickly, your tone a little too chipper to be convincing. You added a casual shrug for good measure, hoping it would sell the lie.

Mia’s gaze lingered for a moment, but she slowly nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Alright, if you say so. I’ve got to go organise Rafe for his interview. Will you be okay by yourself? I think Austin’s around here somewhere,” she said, glancing around the bustling paddock. “Yeah, of course, go ahead. I’ll look for him,” you assured her with a polite smile.

She nodded, giving you a quick wave before disappearing into the chaos, leaving you alone amidst the buzz of mechanics, media personnel, and fans. You continued walking, your eyes darting around in search of a familiar face. The usual hum of the paddock felt louder now, almost oppressive, as you noticed more phones and cameras turning in your direction. A knot tightened in your stomach.

Normally, you could brush it off, but today the weight of their stares was unbearable. Biting your bottom lip nervously, you quickened your pace, practically darting into the safety of the Ferrari garage. The moment you stepped inside, a voice called out to you, making you pause. “Y/n!” Relief flooded your chest as you spotted Austin waving you over from the balcony of the hospitality area.

“Hey!” you greeted him warmly, embracing him in a quick hug. “Rafe should be done with his interview pretty soon,” Austin said, glancing at his watch. You hummed in response, setting your things down on the table before joining him at the railing. The two of you leaned against it, looking down at the sea of people navigating the paddock below. “Yeah, Rafe and I were planning to head back to OBX for a week after—”

Your words trailed off as your eyes froze on a group of girls huddled together, their phones unmistakably aimed in your direction. Their whispering and laughter sent a chill through you, making your shoulders stiffen visibly. Noticing your silence, Austin followed your gaze. His brows furrowed in concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but probing.

You swallowed hard, tearing your eyes away from the girls. “I-uh—I’ll just sit down for a bit,” you muttered, moving back toward the table. Austin watched you carefully, his confusion evident. “Do you know them?” You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. After a moment, he sighed, his tone shifting to something more knowing. “Have you been reading comments again?”

The question made your head snap up, your eyes meeting his. You didn’t respond, but your silence was enough. “Y/n,” he said gently, pulling out a chair across from you and sitting down. “You know those are just jealous people who wish they were in your position, right?” “I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But they still hurt, Austin.”

“I know they do,” he admitted, leaning forward. “But think about it—what they’re saying about you… Is any of it true?” You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to your phone as you hesitated. “They’re not,” Austin continued firmly. “Because they don’t even know you. But we do. Rafe does. Don’t let them get to you. They’re just miserable people trying to make someone else miserable too.”

His words sunk in, easing some of the tightness in your chest. A small smile crept onto your lips, the warmth of his reassurance breaking through the cloud of doubt. “Thanks, Austin. I really appreciate it,” you said, your voice softer now but filled with genuine gratitude. He grinned back, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual confidence.

“Anytime. Now, let’s get you smiling again before Rafe gets back, or he’ll never let me hear the end of it.” You chuckled lightly, feeling just a little lighter as the weight of those comments began to fade, replaced by the comfort of a friend who truly understood.

~

The jets in the bathroom continued to hum, the sound blending into the background as you stared at your phone screen, your chest tightening with every cruel word you read. The image of you and Rafe walking into the paddock, so innocuous and routine, had somehow become the catalyst for a torrent of negativity.

Your throat constricted, and you bit down hard on your bottom lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. But it was too much. The weight of their words pressed on you, an avalanche of insecurities crashing down. You dropped your phone onto the bed as though it had burned you, standing there frozen for a moment, your hands trembling.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Rafe stepped out, a towel slung low on his hips, droplets of water clinging to his skin. His carefree, post-shower demeanour faltered the moment his eyes landed on you. “Hey,” he said cautiously, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” You shook your head, quickly wiping at your cheeks, but the tears had already betrayed you. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His tone was firmer now, his blue eyes scanning your face for answers. He glanced at your phone lying facedown on the bed, and his expression hardened as he pieced it together. “Did you read the comments again?” The lump in your throat grew, and you couldn’t speak, your silence confirming his suspicion.

Rafe let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his damp hair. “Y/n, why do you let them get to you? They’re just a bunch of—” “It’s not just them, Rafe!” you snapped, cutting him off. The words spilled out before you could stop them, sharp and heavy. “This is my life now—being constantly judged, criticised, compared. It’s exhausting. I can’t do this anymore.”

His brows furrowed in confusion and alarm. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying I can’t be with you anymore,” you said, your voice breaking as the words left your lips. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Rafe’s face fell, his confident façade cracking in an instant. “What? No. No, that’s not happening.” “Rafe—”

“No!” He stepped closer, his voice low but desperate. “You’re not doing this because of a bunch of idiots online who don’t know anything about us.” “It’s not just them!” you cried, the dam of emotions finally breaking. “It’s everything! The constant attention, the pressure, the way people look at me like I’m not good enough for you. And maybe they’re right! Maybe I’m not!”

“Don’t you dare say that,” he interrupted, his voice rough with emotion. He reached for your hands, holding them tightly even as you tried to pull away. “You are good enough. You’re more than good enough, Y/n.” “I can’t keep living like this, Rafe,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I feel like I’m losing myself.

Rafe’s grip on your hands tightened as if letting go would make your words true. “I don’t care what they say. None of it matters to me. You matter. You’re the only thing that matters.” Your lips trembled as you looked into his eyes, the sincerity there almost too much to bear. “But what if I can’t handle it?” “Then I’ll help you handle it,” he said firmly, his voice softening as he pulled you closer.

“You’re not doing this alone. I love you, Y/n. I don’t care what those people think. They mean nothing to me—nothing.” You let out a shaky breath as his words washed over you, your resolve weakening under the weight of his conviction. Rafe cupped your face gently, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “We’ll get through it together. I promise.”

For a long moment, you just stood there, your forehead resting against his as you tried to steady your breathing. The pain was still there, raw and jagged, but so was the love in his voice, in his touch. “I don’t know if I can be enough,” you whispered. “You already are,” he replied without hesitation. “You’ve always been enough for me.” And somehow, in his arms, the weight of the world felt just a little lighter.

[inu1gf]

you won’t be able to take your eyes off me

NOW PLAYING: miniskirt by aoa

WHO: gen narumi & soshiro hoshina (separately) (kaiju no. 8)

WARNINGS: reader is wearing a miniskirt, stockings, and heels (wrote this fic while listening to the song cause it gave me inspo) other than that it should be gn!

never did you think you could capture his attention, the difference not only in rank but raw power they held compared to you should’ve deterred you away but when the attention was reciprocated, you didn’t want it to end. dancing around each other, tiptoeing around the line not knowing if you should push the boundary, to see where this could lead.

as time goes along and seeing no change in this dancing routine that was set between you two, it started to weigh on your heart. does he just want to someone to occupy his time with? is he just doing it to mess with you? to waste your time? to have fun and see what he could do without crossing the clear line between you two. you can’t have that. that would just mean what you thought was a genuine connection, he thought it was a game. you weren’t just gonna stand by, wait for him to come back, and have the cycle repeat again.

out of sight. out of mind.

now what was just a slight peek between the curtains between the two of you, were just closed and locked windows. he wasn’t gonna be able to see that side of you no more. not a moment longer were you going to think of him anymore.

it took a while and you had to show that you were no longer occupied, you finally landed a date. you honestly didn’t think of it as anything serious. just a a little toe dip into the dating pool once again. even though you were ready for a new thing, you literally just got out of a one sided situationship so diving in head first on the first date wasn’t really a smart idea.

going through the process of aligning schedules, making plans, and deciding on the time, and with a little bit of help with outfit planning and a bit of confidence boosting, you were ready for a night out. now you just had to report to your higher ranking officer to give additional notice that you were spending your off day off base.

even if you weren’t on duty or in uniform, it felt a bit weird to not straighten out your clothes and posture before needing to make your presence known.

knock knock knock

“state your name.”

“it’s officer [name] reporting.”

“come on in.”

when you opened the door should’ve had a feeling that he’d be in the room…

expecting to see vice captain hasegawa at his desk, you were not sure why the two-toned-haired idiot you were trying to avoid was seated in a place like it was his office. then again you weren't all that surprised when seeing a stack of files on both sides with vice captain hasegawa standing behind him keeping watch.

upon entering both turned your direction to you, different expressions but it was all the same to you since you decided he was just captain narumi to you now and not gen (is what you told yourself but your heart felt like it was going to jump out your chest and land right in front of him for him to sign his name right on it).

“sorry to interrupt captain narumi and vice captain hasegawa. just wanted to report that i will be heading off base, can’t give a specific time but i will be back and i will be present for morning training.” in salute position trying to maintain being fixated on the wall behind both men, you couldn’t trust yourself to not have your expression change if you made eye contact nor could you stop your thoughts from crushing the confidence pep talk that kikoru and rin gave before leaving your room.

what you didn’t notice was the look over gen gave you when you stepped through the threshold nor could you have noticed the fast-paced heartbeat and heated ears that donned him once he saw how breathtaking you looked. having only seen you in either your regular civies or defense uniform, it would’ve made him beamed with pride had the change in clothing style been for him, but seeing as you haven’t even spared him a glance in a matter of weeks, he was happy to at least be in the same room with a good 6-foot distance separating you two.

as of late the only time, you would even allow yourself to be near him (at a wide distance but still being in the same room) is if it’s he finally decided to grace the first division with his presence and oversee training, or he’s dragged to a meeting and scuffed at the neck like a kitten by hasegawa. as if a switch flicked in your head, one day you couldn’t help but be next to him no matter the time or place, and now you couldn’t be in a room with him unless you had to.

he doesn’t even know why he is having such a hard time bringing up the situation or just speaking to you in general. this isn’t him. sure he can’t stand when his vice captain talks to him as if his title as captain of the first division doesn’t exist but with how you two danced around the line he didn’t know whether he should make his move or even how he should do it. like come on, holding his rank as both captain of the first division and japans strongest anti-kaiju combatant, and he doesn’t mean to brag (he totally does hope it wows you even more) most if not all, hold him in high regard and entrust the safety of the entire freaking country and defense force to him. this should at least boost his points with you. its not like you don’t know what he can’t do having been on the battlefield together. his speed and durability. his strength and endurance. his skilled martial arts mastery and intellect. never been one to shy away from flaunting his abilities that clearly sets him ranks above the rest (okay big head we get it you’re the best at what you do), it should show that what he can do and has to offer can push you more to him. so why is it that you are trying to pull away from him?

“…captain. captain narumi? CAPTAIN NARUMI?” finally registering that it was you who was calling him back off of whatever cloud he seemed to have found himself on since you came in, he looks at both you and hasegawa in confusion.

“yes, do you need something from me?” trying to make himself look like he wasn’t just spiraling into a hole of turmoil trying to see what could he have possibly done to have you in front of him dressed up so attractively appealing for someone.

“nothing sir. just wanted to wish you both a great night. hopefully, my intrusion didn’t slow down your progress on your work. i’ll get out of your hair and be on my way out.” with a quick salute, you leave straight away not wanting to waste anytime to get to your date (you may not truly like the guy but it’s not like you’re so cold-hearted to just leave him standing after all the planning that went into this date even if you don’t feel like going out now).

with your uver estimated time being 5 minutes away, you tried to speed walk as fast as you could to the entrance doors while simultaneously trying to keep the miniskirt kikoru slipped you in from riding even further up than you could handle. now just hearing the clacking of the high heels, you couldn’t focus on the sounds around you, trying to make it to the exit as fast as possible. nothing could have prepared you for the sudden pull on your arm into the quiet and empty hallway, would anything have prepared you for the sharp deep red eyes that you have been trying to avoid looking at for weeks.

“so what the first time in ages that you speak to me and you can’t even look at me and ‘captain’ or ‘sir’? haven’t heard you call me that since you first arrived. what happened to just narumi? what happened to gen? what’s with the sudden name change? sudden change in everything as a matter of fact? what happened? just tell me what went wrong!” a frenzy of questions snowballed right at you giving you no time even react to the first one. you couldn’t even look away from him when his presence and energy was just demanding your full focus and attention on nothing and no one but him.

“i can’t do this right with you, captain. my ride is going to be here in less than 4 minutes. as of a few minutes ago, i’m not on duty to have my off time disrupted. if that was all you had to say, please let me go. i have a date i can’t miss.”

date. (what?!)

a date. (where?!)

you’re dressed nice and pretty for a date. (why?!)

you’re dressed up nice and pretty because you’re going to a date. (when was this decided?!)

you’re dressed up nice and pretty because you’re going to a date thats not with him. (with who?!)

as he spiraled down his flurry of emotions that seemed to show on his face and eyes even with his mop of hair practically covering a good portion of his face, you were able to bear witness to each one. one right after the other tugging at your heart. making your brain go into its state of unraveling on the tight knot it held on your feelings for him begin to rise its way back out. you just couldn’t hold back on what you had been holding onto.

“please captain just please let me go. please don’t hold onto me anymore. please stop practically taking all my attention. please just stop giving me hope in whatever you lead me to believe this even is.” from the tight hold his eyes held onto yours to trying to focus on the high ceilings to blink away at the tears that threatened to fall and make a mess at what took hours of your support team working on to make sure that even if you were suited up in your usual uniform, you’d be able to battle anything that came your way. yet you seem to be losing the one you started one-sidedly.

“you want me to let you go after you walk in, looking smoking hot by the way, and finally talking to me after weeks of no response from you, only to find out you are going out on a date with some random who probably doesn’t know you as well as i do? i don’t care if i have to throw you in my office and break the handle to keep you in there, you will not be leaving my side. especially for some date with someone that’s not me. when did this even happen? how did this even happen? i’m pretty sure i’ve been dishing out more duties to you just to keep you occupied until you finally had enough to just come to yell at me about it.” he’s been dumping workloads on you on purpose? “anyways you’re not leaving. you are not leaving me. you understand that? now what’s this about ‘me giving you hope’? why would i stop? i thought what we had was something. im into you. you’re into me. why stop that? why try to go on a date another some other guy when that’s the step we’re supposed to be on? cancel that uver. they could be outside right now for all i give a crap. you’re sticking with me and we’re hashing this out. now.” not even letting you fight back, he starts to pull you into the familiar direction where his room is. one that you thought you would never be in again.

the closer you get, the more erratic the pounding in your chest, and the more your mind races having you think it was just the cycle repeating itself.

finally deciding to drop your weight in the opposite direction he was pulling you to (didn’t really do much in all honesty) does he decide to finally look at you again, seeing you in the heart-wrenched state he put you in. “i’m dressed for a date not a situationship lecture from the one who i was in a situationship with. so unless you’ve decided to actually take my feelings for you seriously then i won’t be going in there.”

“give me 30 minutes. i’ll take you on the best date you’ll ever have. by the time it’s over, you’ll never think about being on anyone’s side but mine.”

you didn’t even realize you were standing outside his door, until he faced forward opening his room, having you sit on his throne as he gathered his clothes and such, making the light bulb in your head come to light as you realize that you’re going on a date with gen. not the poor guy who has now been waiting for a response to his texts for the past 15 minutes.

it shouldn’t have surprised you that he’d be here with captain ashiro, it really didn’t phase you as much as you thought it did. not wanting to show how it affected you, you fixated your gaze onto captain ashiro herself, but it was like he was invading your sight everywhere you went. with his back towards you not even wanting to acknowledge your presence, the clenching around your heart was a dull ache, but it was nothing new. you’ve already steeled your nerves when you decided that if he wasn’t going to do anything with what you thought was something good between you then you weren’t gonna waste your time.

“sorry to disturb you, captain ashiro and vice captain hoshina. the officers advised me to give notice just in case so i wanted to report that i would be off base for a few hours.” you didn’t know if it was because you were standing under an air vent or just your nerves running rampant, but it was just making the chills drive up your legs that not even the stockings covering your legs could provide a small ounce of warmth.

“it’s just us here so you don’t have to call me captain. you look pretty by the way. where you going?” it wasn’t known to most of the division that you and ashiro were friends. after a run in at the convenience store for some dried shredded squid where you both reach for the last one in stock, it sparked a quiet friendship between you two, and leading to you both meeting a few times cooking dishes for her, where you would use the shredded squid, after finding out she can’t really use a kitchen knife to save her life.

having heard his captain compliment someone out loud, soshiro doesn’t fully turn to you but just half way so he can see you in his general peripheral vision, and what his captain said was no lie at all.

now standing in a common hand-on-hip pose just seeming more slightly relaxed, he starts his trail at your black red bottom high heels that make the sheer black stockings that hug your legs in a way that has him weak in the knees, having to hold onto the desk he was starting to lean on, paired with a miniskirt and blouse that accentuated the lovely curves he can’t help but fantasize about when he’s alone with nothing but himself and his thoughts.

what pulled him out of his current position was your response.

“just a date with someone from the operations department.”

just a date.

just a date.

JUST A DATE.

“what the fuck.” who said that? did he say that? he didn’t mean to say it out loud, but as quick as he said it he masked his surprise, in case it slipped off him, and adjusted himself since he started to feel two sets of eyes on him. he could feel them burning on his side.

“this section on the report is wrong. i’ll go check it out to see how to fix it. I’ll leave yall to it.” giving this the only time to be able to turn himself facing to you, he got to see you in your full glory. you look as beautiful as you always do everytime he sees you.

Just as he gets ready to salute his captain, you salute back to him and start to head towards the door before him.

“I’ll let you know how it goes, shiro!” with a little wave to both captains, you rush out the doors and zip through the halls making it in time outside as your uver driver arrives.

if the drive didn’t feel like it had gotten you to your destination too fast, then it was the date that felt like it went painstakingly slow. all they did was talk about themselves, how they had done this and that, and how if they were given the chance, they would’ve done this better than hoshina. hoshina. how you honestly wished it had been him here, instead of the self absorbed person who’s done nothing but waste about 3 hours of your time.

you would’ve left halfway through but if it wasn’t for the gnawing ache in your heart of having to accept that even if you try to be with someone who wasn’t him, you wouldn’t have been able to open your heart to them the way you bore your heart open to him.

it seemed like you didn’t have to sit and suffer in silence any longer because it seemed like even thought they couldn’t get enough of hearing the sound of their our voice, they hated that you didn’t egg them on to continue their endless stream of compliments they wanted to shower themselves in. just slapping a few bills on the table, they left without so much as a glance to you, but you weren’t going to complain about it either. sure it was possibly the worst date you’ve ever been on, but at least you can finally get yourself out of this outfit. sure it was the best thing you’ve wore out since joining the force, but to have it wasted on a date as horrible them, all you could do is hope that whoever decided to take you out next will be worth the amount of effort you put in dressing yourself for.

who were you kidding? as if you’d ever subject yourself to another one like that ever again. sure they may not all be self absorbed and do nothing but waste your time, but at least after each date it wouldn’t have you feeling guilty for wasting theirs as well because no matter how many people you choose to be with, they’ll never be able to occupy the empty space in your heart that he decided to make his place in.

making your way back to base was easy enough if it wasn’t for man himself standing next to the entrance doors.

“well wasn’t that quick. what’d they do? stand you up?” as if that was the greatest joke he ever heard, he couldn’t help but do that cute laugh that he does, clutching at his sides while little by little slightly bending at the knees.

“ ha ha ha! laugh it up. and for your information, he didn’t stand me up. we had a nice time.” lie. “, and he treated me to that restaurant i’ve been wanting to go to.” half lie. “i see the promise of a second date in our near future. so laugh it up while you can. save it for someone who can’t get a date. wait a minute… isn’t that ‘someone’ you?” thinking that should have at least stunned him, you started to make your way past him, but what you didn’t count on was the sudden grip and spin you got in return now having to face the man himself. eyes open and fixated on yours. unmoving. it was a test checking to see who would make the first move…

but you’ve had enough with games.

enough with the side glances.

enough with second too long stares.

enough with the unmovable mocking grin he seemed to give anytime you were caught looking in his direction.

enough with the flirty inside jokes.

enough with the flushed face when he pays just a little more attention to you than he did with others.

enough with waiting.

enough of tail chasing you seemed to be doing just to get him to look at you the same way you look at him.

enough with just being strung along.

enough with him.

“if that’s the case then, why would you be with him and not me?” it seems like today was just full of surprises. there was no way those string of words came out of his mouth. however, if that question didn’t throw you in a loop then the second one did the trick.

“what can i do to make you stay with me?” you couldn’t even back away. with the tightening grip he had on you as if you were just going to sprint in the opposite direction if he were to weaken his hold on you and in no way would you have stayed as well.

did it really have to take him seeing you actually going on a date for him to finally make a move?—but again, if you wanted to hear anything on a already bad day after a bad date, then might as well have it done now.

“are you fucking serious right now?” you don’t care that you are about to get disciplinary action for what you just said to your superior, but who wouldn’t react that way when it was what you needed to hear a few weeks ago for the man himself. no longer were you just going to hide behind the little actions you’ve been doing to keep distance between you two. no not anymore, and if you had to hash it out in from of the division building then so be it. already too frustrated from the crap date and crap ride back just to be stopped by the problem itself only to be landed right back where you started, you just need the weight to be lifted off your chest so you can finally just breathe.

“what do you want? what is it to you that i went out on a date or that ill be going on more? who are you to tell me anything? if anything, you don’t get to dictate what i do outside of my duty to the squad. i’m pretty sure for someone who’s as intelligent as you then you should know how i feel about you and if you anything about me, you should know im not going to wait around anymore just for you to make a move so if you are done with whatever you have right now then just leave me alone” tone getting louder and louder, you don’t seem to notice how his hands went from your shoulders and gently sliding up to hold the sides of your face.

you only notice it when you feel a cold pressure on your lips and then seem to move on their own as they continue to lock with his. heart feeling fuller and your chest feeling lighter. you couldn’t help the tears that started to glide down your face and he couldn’t help himself when he felt them on the pads of his thumbs.

there was no stopping them. what had you agonizing for weeks came to a stop with just one kiss.

apologies coming from him just seemed to make the tear come in steady streams and when he saw that maybe they wouldn’t stop for a while, as if he was holding something so precious (in his case he was), you felt the bottom of your feet lift from the ground and he started to move. to where? you didn’t know. all you can see is the red tint on his ears and feel the tightening grip under your knees and shoulder.

it wasn’t until he adjusted his grip did you glance around to see where you were at.

vice captain hoshina soshiro

he was leading you into his office.

it wasn’t a new place to you. many times you’ve been in here. either waiting out the time as he completes his paperwork so he can give you some more pointers on your swordsmanship (you figured that if there was anyway to get closer to him, it was to learn the craft that he cherished deeply) or just to be in his presence as you helped him with whatever he needed from you (he always made up tasks just to have you around him just a minute longer).

you expected him to just sit you on one of the chairs he has in front of his desk. what you didn’t expect him to do was make his way around it and feel him sit down on his chair with you still in his arms. you didn’t expect him to adjust you so that sitting in his lap. you didn’t expect him to cradle you closer as if he was trying to meld you into him. you didn't expect the small featherlight kisses he lays on your face to get you to calm down.

there were many things you didn’t expect for him to do.

if only those were the only surprises he was going to lay on you, but nothing topped what he said next after resting his forehead onto yours.

“look i know it’ll take a lot to trust what i have to say and i don’t expect you to make it easy. if you can give me time, i promise ill be able to show you just how much you mean to me. i want to be able to make you see that i am yours. that i will always be yours. i hope that you can see just how much i want you to be mine.”

A/N: my first fic so any constructive feedback would be much appreciated!! sorry if they seem a bit too ooc i tired staying in character as much as i could without going too flowery and corny >_< hope you like it and if you have any requests, send them in! and ty to soshiros bbygirl for beta reading;*

[cookiescribble]

Take Me Home

A/N: fun fact, I wrote this entire thing while i was sobering up after getting way too drunk at a friend's party. mod ghost can attest to this. - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer’s girlfriend comes home drunk after girls’ night, and he helps take care of her while politely turning down her advances. (based on 7x16)

CW: mentions of alcohol and sex

~~~

Spencer was all too happy to take care of his godson. He didn’t even need a reason. So when JJ said they were having girls’ night, he really didn’t mind babysitting. 

The girls came back late. Like, middle-of-the-night-into-early-morning late. 

JJ unlocked the door and came into the house, trying to be as quiet as she could be so she didn’t wake anyone up. She thanked Spencer for babysitting. 

“I really appreciate you watching my baby… and now you have to take care of your own baby” she snickered. 

Spencer gave her a confused look until he saw his girlfriend stumbling in behind her. She gave him a big smile before tripping right into his arms. He stood her up as she continued giggling, trying to be quiet so she didn’t wake up the house. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” She kept giggling and wrapped her arms around him, mostly to hold herself up, but also because she was happy to see him. 

JJ patted Spencer on the shoulder. “She fell in the bathroom a couple hours ago. Good luck.” 

He took a deep breath and gave JJ a little smile before escorting his girlfriend out the door and into his car. As he was buckling her in, she pulled on his collar a little and said, “you look extra nice tonight, is this a new outfit?”

He laughed and rolled his eyes, shutting the door and getting in the driver's seat. “It’s the same outfit I was in when you left 8 hours ago.” He started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. 

She fidgeted in the seat a little as she looked at him. “No, I don’t remember you looking this good when I left…” she reached her hand out to place it on his thigh, smiling mischievously at him. 

He cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the road. “That’s the alcohol talking. Did you know studies have shown that people who have consumed a moderate amount of alcohol find the faces of members of the opposite sex 25% more attractive than their sober counterparts?” He glanced at her again for a moment before adding, “and you’ve definitely consumed more than a moderate amount of alcohol, so you’re basically looking through rose-tinted glasses right now.”

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s not the alcohol. You’re just hot.” She continued to stroke along his thigh before he reached down and placed her hand in her lap, giving it a little squeeze before he let it go. 

“You guys were out awfully late tonight. You know we have to go out in the morning, right?” He asked as he pulled into the parking lot of their apartment. He got out of the car before opening the passenger door and helping his girlfriend out of her seat and towards the apartment. 

She waved him off, saying “it’ll be fine, I’ll be up and ready in time.” She let him lead her towards their front door, smiling when she felt his hands around her waist. 

When they were in the apartment and Spencer closed the door behind them, her hands were all over him. She stood on her tiptoes to give him sloppy kisses on the lips. He had to keep his hands on her so she wouldn’t fall over. “Baby…” she started, her hands moving under his shirt. 

He took her hands and pulled them away, despite her pout of protest. “Sweetie, not tonight,” he said. 

She pouted more. “Why not? I can’t be handsy with my boyfriend? We’ve been dating a long time, you know.”

“4 years, 3 months, 22 days” he responded instinctually. “But, you’re too drunk right now. We can’t do this when you’re this drunk.”

She crossed her arms. “I am NOT drunk.” She said definitively, as if that would convince him. 

He smiled and shook his head, crossing his arms. “Okay. Let’s assume that’s true.” He took his hands off her waist so she could stand on her own, pointing at the end of the hall. “Walk to the end of the hall and back.”

She huffed a bit before stumbling down the hallway and back. “See, I’m fine!”

He stifled a laugh. “I would hardly call that walking.” She rolled her eyes at him while he continued talking. “Stand on one foot.”

She hesitated for a moment before lifting one of her legs up, immediately falling into him. When he gave her a smug look, she pointed at him and said, “Hey, in my defense, I can’t stand on one foot when I’m sober, either.”

He laughed and nodded. “Well, that’s true. I’ll give you that. You’re just clumsy.” He held her by the waist again. “Can you count backwards from 1,000?”

She furrowed her brows. “Are you serious right now? Would you really rather give me a sobriety test than have sex with me tonight?”

He kissed her on the forehead before guiding her towards their bedroom. “Yes. It was more for my own amusement than anything else.” He sat her down on the bed before looking through the drawers for her pajamas. “You can’t even stand on your own right now. What did you expect?”

She huffed before responding. “I expected a boyfriend who would be happy to see me.”

He shook his head at her theatrics before handing her pajamas over to her. “When did I say I wasn’t happy to see you? I’m always happy to see you.”

She crossed her arms, not moving. “You’re not acting like it. And you know you’re not a cop, right? I don’t think FBI agents usually give tests like that.”

He laughed. “I know. I was merely demonstrating your inebriation through a common field sobriety test.” He took the pajamas back from her and placed them on the bed. “I could never take advantage of you like that. I can help you with your nighttime routine, though.”

She made a face like she wanted to be mad at him, but she couldn’t be. “You know, most guys would love that they could get their drunk girlfriend into bed this easily.” 

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. I don’t need to, though. And you’re way too drunk to consent.” He stood her up and brought her clothes to the bathroom. “How would that be enjoyable, anyway? You can barely even think straight; I would just be worrying about you the whole time.” He put some toothpaste on her toothbrush and handed it to her. “And, with the numbing effects of alcohol, you wouldn’t enjoy it that much either; you’d barely be able to feel anything.”

She looked at him for a moment before taking the toothbrush and starting to brush her teeth. “I guess you’re right… you know, sometimes I hate when you’re right.” 

He laughed, hugging her close to him while she finished brushing her teeth. “I know. But it’s okay, I’m still here, sweetheart.” He swayed her back and forth a bit, as if he was calming down a fussy baby. 

She rinsed her mouth after she brushed her teeth, looking at their reflection in the mirror. She could see how tired she looked. “… Thank you. I’m happy you’re here.”

He kissed the top of her head and moved her so she could hop up onto the sink and he could help take her makeup off. He washed her face and smiled when she closed her eyes as he massaged the soap into her skin. “Comfortable?” 

“Mmm…” she mumbled, the circular motion of his hands on her face starting to lull her to sleep. 

He chuckled, gently patting her face dry with a towel when he was done. He helped her off the counter and started to help change her clothes. 

When he took her shirt off, she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him. He just laughed and helped her into her pajamas. “Yes, you look great, but no, I’m not changing my mind.”

She sighed and pouted a bit more. “You’re no fun…” she said before yawning. Without even looking at him, she said, “wipe the smug look off of your face; I know I’m tired, that doesn’t mean I agree with your decision.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean. You’re not even looking at me.” But he was grinning, and they’ve been together long enough that she knew exactly what face he’d be making. 

“I know you have that I-told-you-so look on your face. I don’t need to look at you to know that.” She turned to him, confirming what she already knew. “Let’s just go to bed.”

He nodded and held her as he guided her back to the bedroom. He lifted the covers so she could get under them before turning off the light and getting under the covers with her. He turned to her and kissed her cheek a few times. 

He could tell she was still upset. He held her in his arms and let her rest her head on his chest. “I know you’re all moody from the alcohol, but I think you’ll thank me later.” 

She grumbled and crossed her arms. “You think I’m moody? Is that why you’re being so mean to me?”

He gave her a confused look. “How am I being mean to you? Did I say something wrong?” He always struggled with social interaction, so he was worried something he said had come across the wrong way. 

She huffed. “It feels like you don’t even like me tonight. All you’ve done is push me away. I was so happy to see you and I couldn’t wait to get home and be with you and you don’t even care.”

“Honey…” he started before pulling her on top of him and wrapping his arms around her waist; he knew it was her favorite way to cuddle, so he figured it could help while she was being overdramatic. “I’m so happy to see you. The only reason I’ve been pushing you away is because I know the effects of alcohol on the human brain and how it impairs judgment. And I know we’ve been together a long time and you say it doesn’t matter, but it matters to me.”

She looked at him for a moment and sighed quietly, realizing how dramatic she was sounding. “I guess I’m using my emotional brain while you’re using your logical brain, so it made me feel like you didn’t care.”

He kissed her forehead and hugged her closer to him. “I do care. I love you.” He kissed her cheek to try to get the point across. “If it helps, you being all over me has made the decision a little… difficult.” He blushed lightly and shifted his position a little. 

She giggled and nudged her nose into his. “It helps a little. I’m glad I had at least a little bit of an effect on you.” She yawned and buried her face into his chest. “That’s… all I needed to hear, I guess.”

He stroked her hair as he saw her close her eyes. “Get some sleep, sweetie. I already know you’re gonna be cranky when we go out tomorrow. You should at least get a little sleep. 

She groaned, but she was too tired to argue with him. Besides, he was right. Like he always was. 

…

She wasn’t the only one who was cranky the next day. 

All the girls were so hungover, they could barely tolerate being there. And Spencer’s enthusiasm was only making it worse. 

“Why are you yelling?”

“Make him stop…”

Derek laughed and asked, “What did you guys drink last night.”

“The green fairy…” Penelope answered, groaning. 

Derek laughed again, pointing to Spencer and his girlfriend. “Well, you two must’ve had fun when you got home.”

She grumbled in response, making Derek laugh again. “No?”

“He made me take a sobriety test.” She rolled her eyes, but her sunglasses blocked her eyes from being seen. 

Derek raised his eyebrows, looking at Spencer. “Seriously?” He looked back at her. “Did you pass?”

She scoffed, throwing her hands up a little. “No! I was wasted!”

Spencer laughed and hugged her from behind. “It’s true. It was pretty amusing, though.”

“Man, she must’ve been thrilled about that,” Derek answered sarcastically. 

She sighed, leaning into Spencer a little. “At least he made me breakfast. He did that right.”

Spencer rested his head on her shoulder. “I did everything right. You just don’t want to admit it.” He grinned, sounding a little smug. 

She looked at him pointedly, leaning up a little to speak quietly in his ear, so only he could hear her. “Hey, if you keep acting like that, we’re not doing anything tonight either.”

He laughed and responded softly. “You know you don’t mean that.”

She grumbled. “Okay, fine. But can you at least stop being so smug? It’s making me even crankier than I am from the hangover.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Okay, okay. Deal.”

Everyone chatted casually for a bit before shifting their focus on the race, eagerly awaiting the end of it.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Yandere House"wife" Satoru x Reader

Call it a happy accident, the way Satoru transitioned from being a full-time sorcerer to being the man you come home to after he does domestic chores all day. You two talked about it for a little while. There was a time when Satoru would come home late at night almost every day. And he would wind down, take a shower, crawl into the bed into your arms and just pour out his heart to you. He would say he hates his job. He hates how repetitive these days were becoming. Meetings upon meetings in the morning, and then having to exercise curses that never stood a chance for the next 6 hours. You soothed him, of course. Or at least as much as you could.

Then you proposed that maybe he starts taking days off. So you'll go to work and he'll stay home to heal his mind as much as he needs to. He would do anything for you, so of course he tries it out just to make you happy. And a few rest days turned into a few weeks. A few weeks turned into a couple of months. You don't remember the last time Satoru went to work by now, his phone blowing up every day from the people and job he kind of abandoned. He didn't care anymore.

He realized that he was happiest doing these mundane and very human tasks every day. And his motivation to keep going was just you. If he was bored, he would do the laundry that was full. I mean, the washer and dryer was just down the hall, why not? Washed the few dishes in the sink. Maybe he'll stop by the store to restock the fridge. You recognized how much of a....housewife he was being when he would retell his daily tasks to you before you two went to bed. "Oh, so I've got a little housewife now?" The neurons in his brain crackled when he heard that word escape your mouth.

Housewife

You raised your eyebrow when you watched him whisper the word underneath his breath. "You alright?" No, he wasn't. Well, he felt fantastic at the thought of his only purpose being his favorite person's provider and nothing else. But other than that, not really. He shamelessly enjoys having that title over his head. So he decides to play the part.

In the morning, he'll wake up before you, stare at your beautiful face for around 10 minutes before getting up to prepare your lunch and make you breakfast. NO, he can't cook. But he does know how to follow instructions. You wrote him some recipes you loved and he takes extra care to follow every single step to the exact measurements that you want. And when you smile at the breakfast, or make that sigh of relief, his heart jumps. Want more coffee? Do you want tea instead? He could pour you a flask of hot coffee before you go. And don't forget your lunch, either. He had fun making the panda shaped molds of rice.

And when you give your kiss goodbye and he finishes begging you to stay for a mandatory 5 minutes, he begins cleaning up the kitchen. He washes the dishes and clears the laundry if there's any. Mops the bathroom and cleans the tub, toilet bowl, and sink until they're sparkly and clean. Vacuums carpets and turns on a humidifier with your favorite scent lightly wafting throughout the place. Though he usually does this 20 minutes before you come back home so the smell is fresh in your brain when you walk in the door. He checks off the grocery list, visits a few people from his hitlist that he knows either hooked up with you in the past, broke up with you, or just tried to fuck with you in general. Sold a few organs from said people from the hitlist's bodies and goes back home to clean himself up and relax.

Relax meaning checking your location every five minutes, doing a mandatory 10 minute phone call on your lunch break to either try and persuade you to skip the rest of the work day to come back home, have phone sex(you talk him through his orgasm), or just let you talk and he'll listen. After the phone call, he'll eat his first meal of the day. He knows you don't like when he doesn't take care of himself, so he eats as much as his big heart desires. Which usually consists of your scraps of breakfast and dinner that you don't finish, so it feels like you two are bonding over the same meal(even though you aren't there). He does like eating with you and next to you, but it just feels more intimate when you two eat from the same plate. By the end of his meal, he's usually rock hard and close to tears at the fact that you won't be here to help him get off again for the next few hours.

So, he takes a cold shower(or two, if it's serious(and when I say "two" I mean he hops in, finishes, and then has to go back because it rises again with a vengeance)). And after his cold shower, he goes to the gym and does his weight resistance training. He knows you love every part of his body and his beautifully sculpted muscles(your words), so he takes good care of them. Then if he has free time, he'll watch some tv, pop up at Jujutsu Tech to piss everyone off for a few minutes, buy some sweets and desserts you two can share and then go back home to take a nap.

He wakes up about 30 minutes before you come back home so he can cook dinner. You told him you wouldn't mind having something "simple" tonight. And if he thinks carefully, this could mean anything from a boiled stew to TV dinner. Based off of your tone and how you said this sentence, he'll assume you wouldn't want something crazy to eat, so he actually buys some deli sandwiches from a shop not too far away. And when you got home, had Satoru take your coat, shoes, and jacket, you told him you were actually excited to eat. "It's been a while since we went there, huh? Oh, it's still warm!" The bread was toasted the way you liked and everything in between.

You were so lucky to have this man take care of you. You told him you loved him and if there was anything he wanted in return for his hard efforts to keep you happy, you'd do it. He shyly shook his head, a small blush overcoming his soft cheeks. He finished eating his sandwich before you and you noticed how silent he went. You softly grabbed his hand and he immediately looked up at you in question. "You alright? You're being quiet." You raise your hand from his hand to wipe a bread crumb from the corner of his mouth. "Yeah......actually, no. I just miss being able to grab your ass every second of the day, because your job doesn't allow your boyfriend into the building."

"Satoru, you know I can't take work off, I have to take care of us." Satoru flails and grabs your hand. "But babe, you know I have enough money to buy us 16 houses! You don't need to work!" You roll your eyes. "Well, I don't want to be in the house all day rotting away."

"We can rot together." "No!" He's a romantic at heart. He stands to walk off at your rejection and you grab his hand to pull him back. "Baby, you know I didn't mean it like that." "But.....you said we can't rot together...." "I know, but we can just be here right now and enjoy each other. We have all night and even some time in the morning. Right?" He sighs at your words and nod. ".........why are you hard?"

"Because you noticed I was quiet." You roll your eyes. He was also an attention seeker. How could you forget. "Really?" He nods. This time, you sigh, and you walk over to the living room couch, patting your lap. Satoru happily bounces over and plops down his weight on you. "Oof!" Sitting sideways on your lap, you caress his back with one hand and palm his hard on through his jeans with the other. His body immediately relaxes underneath your touch, and you smile up at him. "My baby has been working so hard today, hm?" He nods and stares at your hand. "I'm glad you're being productive. What did you do today, Satoru?"

"Today, I cleaned up the kitchen and did the laundry.." You unbutton his pants when he starts talking. But before you pull them down, you pause. "And what else?" He realizes what you're trying to do and swallows stressfully. He just wants you to take care of him. "And I mopped in the kitchen and the bathroom. I vacuumed, too." You pull his pants down enough to pull out his rock hard cock. It was warm and heavy in your hand, the tip straining with the blood swollen up to it. It was red and glistening with pre, threatening to drip down.

You gently wrapped your hand around him, slowly jerking him up and down, and a whimper slips out his lips. "Come on, baby, keep talking." He grabs your arm that's holding his cock and grabs at the couch with his other. "Um...I also........that's it." He cuts himself off, and his eyelids flutter shut when you put a little more pressure onto your hold, your thumb swiping over his tip.

"Hm? Are you sure?" You know he cut himself off. Which only means he's hiding something from you. He nods his head in response, and you let go of him. He whines at the cold that surrounds him now and looks at you. "Whyy???" "I don't know, baby, I think you're lying to me." You give him a look of fake concern, and your hand instead travels south to very gently fondle his sack, which immediately gets him to squirm.

"I'm not!!" You scrunch your eyebrows. "Are you??" He goes silent, and you stare him deep into his eyes. He can't reciprocate the eye contact and stares at your hand. You stop touching him, and he looks back up at you with sad, glistening puppy eyes. "I went through the list." Your eyebrows shoot up before you start scolding him. "The list??? I thought I told you to get rid of that thing? Satoru." When you first moved in with one another, you found his hit list full of people you used to talk to. He planned to kill them off one by one to have you to himself. You never truly got mad at him for it, because most of those people on the list genuinely were big pieces of shits that you wanted to burn in hell.....but technically it still wasn't okay for him to just do that behind your back.

"No, please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just-" you lightly push him off of your lap, which was basically his equivalent of being shoved off of a cliff and his heart drops when you stand up. "NO! No. Wait, baby, please. Let me make it up to you. Please don't leave me like this." He trips onto his knees but still makes record speed in crawling over to you. He grabs your closest leg and hugs it tightly. You could feel his cock(which was still out) rub against your pant leg. So dramatic, you think.

You look down at him, and he stares up at you with those stupid big blue eyes. "......" He takes your silence as his que to convince you. "I can make it better, look!" He shifts in front of you, still on his knees, and begins to unbutton and pull your pants down. You lose balance and stumble back into the dining table behind you, using it for balance as Satoru yanks down down your pants, his eyes staring at the goal.

"Satoru, what the hell are you doing?" Funny enough, your words contradict your actions, and you instinctually spread your legs farther apart for him to have more space in between. He grabs your legs and places them on top of his shoulders, and you scoot back onto the dining table for more comfort, cups and silverware clinking as you clumsily push them back.

"I can help like this." He pushes his tongue as far as he can past your lips, getting a strong first taste at your pussy. A firm and slow stripe from your hole up to your clit and you hiss, gripping onto the table. Satoru moans loudly and closes his eyes to enjoy himself as much as possible. He shifts impossibly closer to you, hugging your thighs to both sides of his face to be buried deep and makes out with your sensitive bud. You could feel him occasionally exhale his warm breath onto you before firmly flicking his tongue onto you again.

You begin whining at the waves of pleasure crashing down on you. Drool and your essence cover Satoru's chin. His cock twitches endlessly against the hardwood floor, more of his pre dripping onto it the more he gets you to moan. "Get up." His eyes snap open, and he pulls away to look up at you. Your fingers dig into his scalp, and you pull him up, earning a wince from him. He knows what you want and leans in to let you taste yourself on his tongue. In the middle of the kiss, he suddenly flinches at the feeling of your hand once again grabbing his cock. You separate the kiss and his gaze trails down to your pussy.

You took his cock head and pressed it in between your lips, rubbing it up and down against your entrance. Your eyes seemed to glisten in a way he hadn't seen in a long time and you maintained eye contact, whispering to him. "You gonna be a good boy and fuck me how I taught you?" Each word that slipped out of your lips was enough to make him insane, and he was ready to do whatever you commanded. He robotically nods and you laugh at his reaction.

You press a soft kiss to his chin, letting him spread your legs on top of the table. He softly spreads your lips and makes eye contact with your hole. Heat radiates from you and he soaks up every last bit of it. All he can see, think of, and hear is you. "Beautiful." He whispers underneath his breath. You caress his arm to snap him out of his mind and he leans down closer to you, his head now pressing to your entrance gently. "Please show me." And he takes it upon himself to shower you with the affection you deserve in hopes to satisfy you again.

Did I cook????? Cuz I feel like I wrote this way too fast.

[bunny-jpeg]

unconventional payment

charles leclerc

cw: no smut, mafia au, au-typical violence, mafia boss!charles, gambling, smoking, blood, scary!charles, forced marriage

basically charles beats the shit out of your fiance for selling you away to get rid of a gambling debt! enjoy!

this bunny runs on tags, comments & reblogs! feed the bunny! (also tell me if you want more of this, i wrote this on a weird whim)

it was very clear that your current fiance had a gambling problem, it start off quite innocent, a few dollars here and there. then it grew to jewellery and eventually the necklace your grandmother gave you went missing. any paycheck he got went down the drain within a few days and you had to stretch your budget to cover for it.

it was at that point you should've packed up your things and left. but you moved with him to monaco to live a nice life. without him, you really had nowhere else to go. so you stayed and watched the money drip away like a leaky tap.

you were furious when you lost your apartment, you snapped your jaws at him like a dog. but what else were you supposed to do. you shoved him and yelled with tears in your eyes. how dare him. how dare this selfish man play you like a fool!

until he told you he could win it all back, but the stakes were higher. not only was your engagement ring on the line, but your hand in marriage too. the highest stake of them all, you.

you dressed nicely for the event at the casino, your hands shook as you got ready. he had pawned most of your nice clothes for cash, and the thought made your blood run cold.

you ended up having to take the bus to the casino because your fiance had sold off his car to pay for his habit. it was at this moment you should've turn away and got the first flight back home. your parents would be happy to see you.

eventually you were seated at the table with your hopes held high. you kept your head high as you sat across the table with the mafia boss that your fiance was tangled up in.

he was handsome, when he spoke, it seemed like he was speaking to you. his voice laid over your shoulders like a heavy blanket. it scared you a little.

you reached for your fiance and said, your voice a little tight, "please. win this." you earned a reassuring nod and a kiss on the roundness of your cheek.

and then he went and lost it, all of it. you held your head high as you looked at this pathetic man you once called a fiance. you said with all the strength in your voice, "congratulations, dear. you have truly fucked me over." and did not break into tears as you felt the strong hand of the boss' bodyguard against your back.

it was only when you were shuffled into the car that you broke down. sobs raked your body as you hunched over in the leather seat of a car that was probably financed by all the money you fiance lost.

the boss got in soon after, his hand in yours. it was far more gentle than you expected from a man who probably killed for fun. his other hand wiped your tears. he sighed, "don't cry, mon petit oiseau."

you sniffled and pulled away from him, with venom in your voice, "how could i not be, i just got sold off like a prize winning hog! so you can what, sell me on the black market!"

the boss looked at you and reached for you, but you pulled away. you made yourself smaller. you pleaded for him to not touch you, so he didn't. he however got closer to you in the backseat on the car and took off his suit jacket and gloves.

he placed the jacket over your shoulders and placed the gloves in your lap. he said in a soft voice, "you hold onto these for a moment." then got out of the car. he softly closed the door behind him.

you heard a noise outside and moved towards the car door that the boss exited out of. you opened the door and near the casino, partially concealed by the wall of the building. it was the boss, holding your fiance to the ground while he punched the living daylights out of him. the sound of his fist hitting your lover's face was disgusting and honestly scared you.

but deep down, a sick part of you liked seeing your bastard of an ex-fiance get beaten down for everything he had done. everything he had done to you.

the boss let go of your fiance when he caught the sight of you. and got back up. he looked down at the other man and gave him a sharp kick in the side before he rolled up his shirt sleeves further. he said, "a man who is willing to sell his woman deserves worse than death. you should be lucky to be alive, but if i see you in my casino ever again."he shook his finger at the other man, "they'll never find you."

both men looked to you and your ex fiance tried to say something, but the boss' voice cut through, "oiseau, close the door. i will be with you in a moment."

you swallowed, you really didn't have options now did you? you closed the door and sat in the back quietly. you shook a little, but exhaled deeply to compose yourself.

you looked to the boss' bodyguard in the front seat. you asked, "does he do this a lot? like, take women as payment."

the bodyguard rolled down the window to exhale his cigarette smoke, "no. usually he just kills them after a while." the man's accent was dutch and he appeared like he had seen this a million times, "if you're worry about him selling you, he won't. you're a little too old for the market."

"seriously!!" you exclaimed.

the bodyguard laughed, "i'm joking. i'm joking! he doesn't work in that field. you're fine. the agreement was your hand in marriage. he can't very well marry you if you're sold off somewhere."

you rested back in the seat, you curled the jacket closer around your shoulders and sighed, "this is insane. this has to be a dream. how did he even know what i looked like? i could've been... hideous!"

the bodyguard flicked the cigarette out the window and shifted in his seat, "oh... you don't know."

you tensed, "what don't i know, mister bodyguard?" as if tonight hadn't rattled you enough.

he looked over his shoulder, those blue eyes of his looked haunting in the low light of the parking lot. he reeked of cigarettes and cologne as he replied, "your fiance a few nights ago showed my boss, me and another gentleman nude photos of you. i could see why my boss and the other man were so willing to jump at the chance to have you all to themselves. honestly, you got the better option. charles is a good man. you were a gamble worth taking in his eyes.

your heart sank, the man you had been with for close to five years had paraded around your nudes to a bunch of mafia strangers? you thought your eyes were going to bug out of your head.

"how many photos?" as if that would make a difference.

the bodyguard shrugged, "i'd say about five, six? it was hard to look away in all honesty. he was also very drunk when he said that you were a fool for letting this go on for so long."

"oh... okay."

you had enough. you opened the door and found the boss still beating the shit out of your fiance. you stepped out with the jacket on your shoulders and his gloves in your hand. you walked towards them.

after everything you gave up to be with him, everything you let be stolen from under your nose. he had the audacity to parade your naked images around like you were some kind of whore. tears stung your eyes once more.

the boss was breathing heavily and your ex-fiance's face was almost unrecognizable. you placed a hand on the boss' shoulder and your words pierced through the cloudiness of his mind.

"honey." you said, you leaned forward to the man and said, "i don't think you should mess up your hands too much. these gloves look expensive and i'd hate for you to get blood all over them." you showed the gloves to the boss.

he looked over to you and the corner of his mouth turned upwards. he pulled away from your fiance, and carefully curled your hand around the gloves, "well then, why don't you take care of them until my hands are healed."

you trembled, he was quite scary up close. you held your voice as you said, "well, then maybe you should stop punching garbage. i'm assuming you have a home to show me, now?"

the boss fully smiled as he gravitated closer to you. away from the other man. he draped an arm over your shoulders and guided you back to the car, "of course, of course." as you walked back, he looked over his shoulder as your ex-fiance and then spat on the ground away from you. your ex fiance better get out of the country fast, or else charles would stick to his word.

back in the car, he draped an arm around you and looked into your eyes. his smile for you held as he said, "you really are something. may i kiss you?"

you felt heat crawl into your face, "you punched the shit out of my fiance and now you want to kiss me?"

he replied, "he wasn't much of a fiance now was he? sold you away like he did all of your valuables. like that necklace."

"he told you about it?"

charles nodded, "all about it. how much it meant to you. how much value was in it. every little detail about the thing. it was honestly so touching that i couldn't bring myself to sell it. now, why don't we go home? i'll give it back to its rightful owner." he moved closer to you, "think of it as a wedding gift. to the future mrs. leclerc."

you licked your lips and said, "you won't take it away?"

he shook his head, "no, no. even if we get a divorce, you have my word that you'll walk away with the necklace. i believe family is important and heirlooms should be kept and not sold away."

you swallowed, "alright then, mister leclec. you may kiss me."

he chuckled and broke out into a boyish grin, "your little fiance wasted such potential." he moved hair out of your eyes, "but don't worry, oiseau, you'll spread your wings and go to new heights with me." then kissed you gently on the lips.

and then into the night, you left your old life behind. thoughts of your ex fiance were pushed into the back of your mind as charles buckled you into the seat and kissed you on the forehead with such a tenderness that it was hard to believe both of his knuckles were covered in blood and bruised. <3

tbc?

[corroded-hellfire]

I can't remember if you already answered or wrote this, but when was the first time Ryan and Luke called reader "mom"?

+ AYW request for ya--Eliza has started saying "mama," which prompts Ryan & Luke to discuss what they call Reader and whether or not they want to call her "mom."

+ When was the first time Reader referred to Luke & Ryan as her sons and when was the first time Luka & Ryan called Reader their mom?

+ What was the first time like when Ryan and Luke started calling Reader "mom"?

+ What was the first moment like when Ryan and Luke first called Reader "mom" or how did the Munson boys react when she called Ryan and Luke "my sons"?

I love how so many people wanted to see this 💜 This does get kind of cheesy and corny at the end (more so than usual), but I couldn't get the song out of my head while writing this, so it gets put in lol

Words: 4.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Say it again, say it again,” you gush, grinning at your daughter. 

“Mama!” she gleefully replies.

You clap your hands together and she copies your motions with the same enthusiasm. 

“Still making her say it, huh?”

You look up and see your husband leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and a playful smile on his lips.

“Like you didn’t have her saying ‘dada’ over and over when she first learned it last month.”

“Dada!” Eliza chimes in. 

“Hi, sweet pea.” Eddie steps into the room and leans down to press a kiss to the top of her head. 

The little girl preens at all the attention she’s getting. Her short legs happily bounce as she wiggles from side to side on the couch. 

“Mama, Dada, Mama, Dada,” Eliza singsongs. 

“My little smarty pants!” You grin and gently tickle her soft belly. 

“You girls have fun,” Eddie says, mussing up Eliza’s curls before heading down the hall. 

“Well, do you want to?”

The shaky tone of Luke’s voice has Eddie coming to a halt a few feet away from the younger boy’s bedroom. 

“I mean…yeah. I think so,” Ryan replies. “Do you think she would mind?”

“I don’t know,” Luke says. “I don’t think so. But it feels weird to ask.”

“We’ve said it a lot trying to get Eliza to say it. It felt…”

“Good,” Luke finishes for his brother. 

Eddie’s brow furrows as he tries to piece together what’s troubling his boys. He doesn’t intend to eavesdrop on the two of them, but it’s become second nature to pay close attention whenever Luke is talking in case there is a scheme in the works that needs to be foiled. 

“She’s always felt more like our mom than Mom does,” Ryan says. 

The words are the key Eddie needed to unlock the stronghold. It makes complete sense now. The boys have been encouraging Eliza to say “Mama” for weeks now, so they’ve been referring to you in that way in front of their sister. Eddie feels like an idiot for never considering the internal storm that must’ve brewed in his sons. It’s no secret that they feel that you’re their mother more than Brittany ever was, but it’s become so normal for them to just refer to you by name. But Eddie can’t blame them for wanting to use the more official title they’d like to bestow on you. 

Slowly, Eddie walks past Luke’s door, acting as if he was always going this way straight from the other room, without making a pitstop to solve a puzzle. 

A long yawn further reminds you of how tired you are as you pull the blankets down on your bed. Curling up between the sheets is all you’ve been able to think about for the last hour. 

Your husband walks into the room, unhooking the black watch from around his wrist. He’s already comfy in his green plaid pajama pants and holey Dio t-shirt. 

“So, um, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Eddie says, placing his watch on his nightstand.

“What’s up? You climb into your shared bed and get comfortable on your side, facing him. 

“Well, I heard the boys talking this afternoon.” Eddie lifts the blankets on his side of the bed and slips in right next to you. He clicks off his bedside lamp before getting comfortable and laying nose to nose with you. “They were talking about you.”

“Me?” you ask, a frown pinching your face. “Did I do something?”

“Not at all, baby,” Eddie is quick to assure you. He reaches out and gently trails the rough pads of his fingers against your jaw. “They were talking about how Eliza finally said “mama” and how they refer to you that way for her.”

Dread pools in your stomach. 

“Oh no. Did that make them uncomfortable? I never asked them to, they just started saying it to help her learn. I feel so—”

“Baby, baby,” Eddie says, gently cupping the side of your face. “No, that’s not it at all. Actually, it’s kind of the opposite.”

“What do you mean?” Your face is still pinched up in concern, so Eddie gently rubs his thumb over your scrunched up forehead.

“They were saying that it felt good when they called you that. That you’ve always been their mom more than the witch ever was.”

Love’s warming touch cocoons you in an embrace as you process Luke and Ryan talking about calling you “mom.” It’s not something you ever would’ve forced on them. They call you by your name, it’s been that way since you’ve met. 

“They were wondering if you’d mind. And that it would feel weird to ask you about it,” Eddie adds. 

“The boys…” you trail off, needing to clear the emotion out of your throat before continuing. “The boys want to call me ‘mom’?”

“It looks that way.” Even in the dim lighting of the bedroom, you can see your husband’s grin. It’s contagious. 

“I feel kind of speechless,” you admit. “I never expected it. I mean, they already have a mom. I guess I just thought that was her and I’m…me.”

“Do you not want them to call you that, princess?” Eddie asks, his tone completely devoid of judgment. 

“No, no, it’s not that!” you’re quick to assure him. “I would be…so honored if they wanted to call me that. I just don’t want them to think I’m trying to overstep or take their mom’s place.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says with a laugh, “they wish you would take their mother’s place. Brittany may have birthed them, but you’ve given them more maternal love today alone than she’s done their whole lives.”

“They’re my boys. My sons,” you say, unable to keep a smile off your face at the words. 

“And you’re the mom they always wanted. The one they deserve.”

That causes the tears to finally spill over. You lean forward and bury your head in the juncture between Eddie’s neck and shoulder. He slips his lean arms around you and holds your body against his own. 

“I’d be so happy if they called me that,” you whisper against Eddie’s skin. “Ecstatic. But I don’t want them to feel pressured to do it.”

Eddie nods, one hand rubbing up and down your back.

“Why don’t we wait to see if they bring it up? Luke said it would be weird to come out and ask, but they might bring it up in another way. I just wanted to talk to you about it so if they do bring it up, you’re not caught off guard.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” You tilt your head up to gaze at your husband through the pale moonlight shining into your room. “You raised such wonderful boys.”

“You mean, ‘we’ raised,” Eddie counters. “You’ve been around for more than half of their lives now.”

“Sometimes it feels like yesterday that Luke was four years old and trying to convince me he needed candy to live.” You chuckle at the memory. “They’re becoming little men now, though.”

“That they are,” Eddie says with a sigh. “Guess I should teach them how to use basic tools and shit then, huh?”

“Well, who’s going to teach you?” you tease with a playful smirk. 

“Wiseass,” Eddie mumbles as he rolls you onto your back and hovers over you. 

“I learned from the best!”

It takes just over two weeks for the subject to come up. Eddie is at work, Eliza is spending a little time with her grandpa before he has to get ready for work, and you’re picking the boys up from basketball practice at Hawkins Middle School. 

You step into the gymnasium and are immediately choked by the stench of over a dozen boys going through puberty, and not all of them have discovered deodorant yet. 

Luke is still running around on the court, where a few kids linger, and Ryan is sitting on the bench, talking to a friend. It doesn’t surprise you. Ryan was initially excited to join the basketball team when Luke first brought it up. But now, a few months in, Luke is loving it and Ryan would rather be doing almost anything else. But he made a commitment to the team and Eddie told him it’s the right thing to do, to honor that commitment. So, he’s counting the days until the end of the season. 

You catch Ryan’s eye as you walk over to the sign out sheet, so he says goodbye to his friend and comes over to join you as you scribble down your name. One of the parent volunteers glances down and then smiles up at you.

“Munson?” The perky blonde woman asks in a chipper voice. “You must be Ryan and Luke’s mom.”

Just as she says this, Ryan reaches you and smiles up at you in greeting. 

It’s not unusual for people to assume you’re Luke and Ryan’s mom, so navigating answers like that have become second nature, and in most cases, it’s just easier to say yes. But with this, you see an opportunity to broach the topic with the boys.

“Yeah, I’m their mom.” You grin and wrap your arm around Ryan’s shoulders. See? I’m saying it. I would love for you two to call me that. 

You feel Ryan lean more into you and you breathe a sigh of relief that he’s acknowledging what you said as well. 

“Luke!” The volunteer calls out onto the court. “Your mom’s here!”

The eleven-year-old turns his head in your direction, sweaty curls whipping around, and gives a smile when he sees you. He waves to his friends and jogs over.

“How was practice, boys?” you ask as you head with them toward the gym doors. 

“Good!” Luke says, an extra spring in his step because he’s wearing the new sneakers he just had to have. “I’m getting better at shooting.”

“Atta boy.” You muss his hair, then have to wipe the sweat clinging to your hand on the side of your jeans. “What about you, Ry?”

“Was alright,” he replies with a shrug. “Got bored.”

“Where’s Liza?” Luke asks as the three of you get into the car.

“At Grandpa’s. We gotta go pick her up so he can get ready for work.”

Ryan buckles his seatbelt in the front passenger seat and turns on the radio. It’s quiet except for Stacy’s Mom coming from the speakers as you back out of your parking space and head off school property.

As you pull up to the first red light you’ve encountered, you turn down the music a few notches so the boys can hear you.

“Is that blonde lady from practice a team mom?” you ask.

“Who?” Luke asks.

“The lady who called out to you that your mom was there.” Why do you feel so nervous? This is Luke and Ryan. Your boys. 

“Oh! Yeah, that’s Gavin’s mom,” Luke says. “I think she does sign-ups for if other moms wanna bring snacks or something.”

“Yeah?” you ask, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “Would you guys want me to do that sometime?” The light turns green, and you start down the main strip of Hawkins, towards Forest Hills. 

“You wanna be a team mom?” Ryan asks, looking over at you. 

“Hell yeah,” you say with a nod. “Show those other moms what it’s like to raise the two best boys in Hawkins. But I’ll only do it if you want me to. I don’t want to embarrass you guys or barge in on your activities or anything.”

“No, it’d be fun!” Luke interjects. “Whenever you bring snacks, everyone will go, ‘Thanks, Ryan and Luke’s Mom!’”

“Um, if you want them to call you that,” Ryan adds softly. 

This is it. The opening you’ve been waiting for. So, why do you feel so tongue-tied all of a sudden?

“Guys,” you speak slowly and deliberately, wanting them to know just how much you mean this, and that it’s not some throw away comment, “I love when people call me your mom. But…does it bother you?”

“No!” They’re both quick to answer simultaneously. 

“We like it, too,” Luke adds. 

You nod and adjust your hands on the steering wheel, psyching yourself up to get the next words out. 

“Listen.” You pause to clear your throat. “If you guys ever want to call me that yourselves, that is perfectly okay. I would never force you to call me that, of course. But if that’s something you’d like to do, that’s good with me.” It’s actually much more than good with you, but you don’t want to bear down too heavily on them. 

“Really?” Luke asks, voice almost as soft as you’ve ever heard it. “We can?”

“Absolutely,” you assure them. “You’re my sons. You can call me whatever feels right to you.”

“Yeah?” Ryan asks.

“Yes.” You say the word with more confidence than you’ve ever said it before. The conviction of the answer rivals that of when you said “I do” to Eddie. 

“I’d like that,” Ryan admits, a sheepish smile growing on his face. 

“Me too,” Luke says.

“I think I just…” Ryan trails off, so you take a quick look at him before looking back to the road. “I think maybe another version of it. Because, like, when I think of calling someone ‘Mom,’ I can’t help but think of her.”

“Yeah, it’s like she ruined the name,” Luke agrees, nodding his head vigorously. 

“That makes sense,” you tell them. “There are definitely different variations of the word. Whatever feels best for you is fine with me.”

“What about, ‘Mother-I-Wish-I-Always-Had?” Luke suggests with a small playful giggle.

“That’s quite a mouthful!” You laugh as well, looking at your younger boy in the rearview mirror again. 

“I mean…” Once again, Ryan trails off, but this time he’s fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt.

“What is it, Ry?” you ask. “You know you can tell me anything. Or ask me anything.”

“Well, it felt nice when we were trying to help Eliza say your name.”

“Yeah!” Luke seconds. “Calling you ‘Mama.’”

“Is that too childish?” Ryan asks, a slight tremble in his voice. 

You turn the car into Forest Hills trailer park and wait until you come to a full and complete stop outside of Wayne’s place before speaking. Wanting to see both boys better, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn your body to look at them from your seat. 

“It is not childish,” you assure him—assure both of them. “I liked hearing you guys call me that, too. When you were helping your sister.” You smile and tilt your head to the side. “I actually feel like that name suits me better than ‘mom,’ anyway. It feels right to me. Like, I’ve been waiting my whole life to be called that.”

“You’re better than ‘mom’.” Ryan confirms with a nod. 

The urge to reach out for him is too strong, so you gently cup the side of Ryan’s face and gently rub your thumb back and forth over his cheek bone. Luke unbuckles his seatbelt and moves forward—closer to you, signaling he wants the same affection. You’re more than happy to give it to him. 

“You’re my sons,” you tell them. “You’re my everything. You, your sister, and your dad. You guys are my whole world. And there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. So, if you ever want to talk about anything—and I truly mean anything, no matter how weird or uncomfortable you think it might be—you can come to me. I’ll always be in your corner, no matter what. And nothing you tell me will ever change the way that I feel about you. There’s not a force in this world that can do that. You guys are stuck with my love forever.” 

Trying to drive home the point as much as you can, you look them straight in the eyes to make sure they know how serious you are. Ryan nods and gives you a small smile. Luke has unshed tears gathering at his lash line, and when he nods as well, they pool over and run down his cheeks. You’re quick to wipe them away for him. 

“Is there anything else? Anything else you guys want to talk about while we’re here?” you ask.

“No,” Ryan says softly but strongly. 

“Nothing for me,” Luke echoes. “Oh! Except that I love you.”

Now your eyes start to fill with moisture. 

“I love you, too.” Your words are quiet because you know if you speak any louder, you’ll start full out crying. “Both of you. So much.”

“Mamaaaaaaaa!”

Little hands pound against the driver’s side window, and you look over your shoulder to see Wayne holding Eliza just on the other side of the car door. She’s leaning in towards you, possibly trying to figure out how to get through the glass.

With a soft chuckle, you roll down the window and raise an eyebrow at her.

“Is there something I can help you with, madam?” you ask. 

“Mama!”

“That’s me,” you tell her. A pleasant buzz in your stomach reminds you of just how true that is. 

“We were waiting for ya inside, but she knew you were out here and was adamant about seeing her mama,” Wayne says, adjusting the one-year-old in his arms. 

“I am sorry I took so long, Your Majesty,” you tell the young toddler. “I was having a conversation with your brothers. Is that okay with you?”

“Mama!” is her only response. Then she pauses, thinks about it, and adds, “Dada!”

“He’s not here, squirt,” Ryan says. “But I think next we have to get you working on my name.”

“Mine’s easier,” Luke argues. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Ryan says with a shake of his head. “She’s learning names from oldest to youngest.”

“She skipped me then!” Wayne laments.

“Cause ‘Grandpa’ is harder to say!” Luke informs him. 

“Alright, Little Miss, let’s get you buckled in your seat so Grandpa isn’t late for work,” you say. 

When you pop open your door, Wayne shakes his head and gestures to the back seat.

“You stay there, I can get her in,” he insists.

Luke leans across Eliza’s car seat to open the back door for his grandfather. Wayne leans in and Luke makes sure all the straps and snaps are out of the way, so Eliza won’t be sitting on any. 

When Eliza realizes her brother is there in the backseat, she squeals in delight as Wayne sets her down. Between the older man and the youngest man, they’re able to secure Eliza snugly in her seat.

Wayne presses a kiss to Eliza’s head and reaches to rub over Luke’s curls before he stands up straight and closes the car door. 

“See you kids later,” he says.

You’re included in that, you know. To Wayne, Eddie is still a kid, which means you’ll always be one in his eyes too. But that is something else that you are perfectly okay with. 

“Everyone buckled in?” you ask. 

The boys answer the affirmative and you shift the car into drive. 

“Let’s go home.”

Eddie was running late at work, so he doesn’t walk through the front door until you’re setting dinner on the table. 

He lets out a long sigh and rubs a grease-stained hand over his face. 

“Hey, baby,” he greets you. 

“Hi, gorgeous.” 

You walk over and give him a proper kiss hello, which has his tired face pulling up into a small smile. 

“Dinner’s ready. Why don’t you get cleaned up and then all you have to do the rest of the day is relax.”

Eddie grunts in agreement, nodding his head before he shuffles down the hallway.

You chuckle to yourself as you finish getting dinner on the table.

“Okay, Liza Bean!”

She’s happily roving around the kitchen and living room in her pink walker, but she scoots over to you at the sound of her name.

“Time for dinner.”

You scoop her up and bump the walker with your leg to make it roll into a corner and out of the way. Eliza gets set in her princess high chair and her tiny hands bang on the tray as she awaits her food.

“Gotta wait for the men of the family, you.”

She coos when you press a kiss to the top of her soft, downy baby hair. Eliza continues her drum solo as you take a few steps into the hallway and call, “Boys! Dinner!”

The middle schoolers make it to the table before their father, so you start doling out the food onto everyone’s plates. Eddie saunters out, looking much better and more energized now that he’s no longer covered in dirt and grime. 

Eddie takes his seat at the head of the table and manages to give your ass a light swat as you walk past him. You giggle, despite hearing Luke pretending to gag. 

Once you take your seat, you pick up your glass of water and take a sip. 

“Want some peas, Liza?” You spoon a handful onto her plate, and she immediately grabs one and smooshes it into her mouth.

“Mama, can I have some more applesauce?” Luke asks.

Eddie’s breath hitches as his eyes meet yours. The warm and elated smile you give him tells him all that he needs to know for right now. Pressure forms behind his own eyes and he clears his throat before spearing a chunk of meatloaf with his fork. He does his best to push the emotions down for now, but he can’t help but beam from ear to ear. 

“That depends,” you respond to Luke as you pick up the jar of cinnamon applesauce.

“On what?” Luke asks. 

Your grin grows to match Eddie’s.

“Say it again.”

It takes Luke a second but then he laughs.

“Mama, can I have some more applesauce, please?”

“Mama! Mama!” Eliza cheers.

“You guys,” Ryan whines, giving an over-the-top roll of his eyes to show he’s not being serious. “You're gonna drive her crazy. Be nice to Mama.”

You feel as if you could explode from all the happiness growing inside of you. All three of your babies calling you “Mama” right in a row? A giddy light-headedness takes hold of you, and you can’t help but giggle girlishly. 

“I’m Mama,” you say to no one in particular as you hand Luke the jar of applesauce. 

“Well, now I feel left out,” Eddie says, letting his fork drop onto his plate. 

“Mama,” Eliza says, looking at her father.

“Oh yeah, you little wisecracker? Rubbing it in?” Eddie narrows his eyes at her and the baby giggles.

“You can say, ‘mama’ too,” Ryan tells him.

“Ah, I’m not gonna say it just for the hell of it,” Eddie says with a dismissive hand wave. “There has to be a reason.” 

He picks his fork back up, but as soon as he spears another piece of meatloaf, he drops it again, the utensil clinking against the ceramic dinner plate. 

“Wait! I got it,” he says. 

You raise an eyebrow at your husband as he sits up straighter and clears his throat. Whatever is about to happen should be interesting.

“Mamaaaa, just killed a man! Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he’s dead!”

Both you and the boys start laughing, which makes Eliza laugh as well.

“Mamaaaa, life had just begun!” Luke continues the song, “But now I’ve gone and thrown it all awaaaaay!”

“Mamaaaa, ooooooh!” Ryan picks up the next piece. “Didn’t mean to make you cry! If I’m not back again this time tomorrow, carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you say as you stand up. “Bravo, everyone.” 

You give a slow clap as you walk over to your iPod dock on the counter. Its music kept you company while you were making dinner, but now it’s about to serve another purpose. Little clicks fill the quiet as you scroll through your small silver iPod and make sure to increase the volume from where you had it before. 

“If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to do this right,” you say as you come upon the correct song. “And we need to start teaching Eliza how to headbang, even if she doesn’t have a whole lot of hair to whip around yet.”

The moment you press play, the opening notes of Bohemian Rhapsody fill the air. As you walk back to your seat, you slowly wave your hands in front of you, as if you were conducting the tinkling music. 

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality

Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see

Luke slides off of his chair and walks on his knees over to you, hands clasped together just below his chin as he sings the next line to you.

“I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy.”

His theatrics make you chuckle, and you run your hand down the side of his face. 

Because I'm easy come, easy go

Little high, little low

Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me

“Okay, we all ready for the next line?” you ask, tugging Luke up off the floor and half onto your lap. 

Ryan nods and you grin as Luke wraps an arm around your shoulders and leans his head against yours.

“Two, three…” Eddie counts down before everyone at the table—sans the very confused and entertained baby—belts out the next line.”

“Mamaaaaaaaaa!”

[firestorm09890]

there's a part of canto vi I've been thinking about since it came out, and it doesn't actually have anything to do with Heathcliff.

this

She is bitter as fuck and as time goes on she's getting worse at keeping it down. Sinclair's the one who started it, by talking about how sad it is that they'd never get to see color, and Rodya starts to get a little irritated over it (yeah, sure, pity the Backstreets folk and their poor miserable little lives, privileged nest boy), but she's obviously trying not to straight up call Sinclair a privileged nest boy because she doesn't want to. But then Yi Sang and Ishmael join in on talking about how sad this place is with no color and she just can't keep her opinion down.

But that makes the atmosphere tense, and she hates a tense atmosphere, so she changes the subject and her tone, not giving a damn about how obvious it is. also, haha, ice and cold references.

And actually, this doesn't really have much evidence to support it, but I wonder if she holds a higher level of resentment for Sinclair in particular.

Canto II had some discussion about how Rodya wishes she was special (and while I think what Sonya said about her killing the tax collector just to feel special is absolute bullshit, I do also think there is some truth to her wanting to feel special), and introduced us to the concept of The Sign in a way that was vague and more like foreshadowing than actually introducing it. Then Canto III was all about The Sign, and how special Sinclair is, and since then we've had people talking about signs and stars and a new birth of the world and it's all stuff Rodya doesn't get to be part of.

I don't think she wants to hold resentment for Sinclair, and she especially never wants him to know, but going back after all this time and rereading this one interaction with him in Canto II felt pretty jarring.

the more important part of this is the way it feels like she's making a joke at Heathcliff's expense, for being poor, like even though she's also from the Backstreets she feels she's "above" it.

She absolutely does not feel this way.

On my way to find the first passage, I reread some other interesting stuff:

Once again, there's the harsh juxtaposition between casual, fun-loving Rodya, and tired, poor man's advocate Rodya. Almost everyone on the team speaks through the lens of a Nest dweller (I have to wonder if learning that Heathcliff was apparently raised in a mansion made her even more bitter), and the way she's so short with her mention of the Sweepers makes me think she's thinking about how painfully obvious it would have been to any other Backstreets dweller. And then, right after, dropping back into her casual voice, and Sinclair revealing that Rodya used the fucked up Backstreets creature to tease him...

Other obvious moments of Rodya being bitter as hell about rich people include this part of S.E.A.

and this part of her observation logs on Spiral of Contempt (actually, nearly everything in that log that isn't about the physical abnormality has to do with how much she hates how rich people look down upon the poor)

Hong Lu's canto comes after Don's, and then after his is Ryōshū's, who, based on her source material, probably served one of the most awful, contemptuous rich people the sinners have access to, and I really hope at some point here Rodya gets to snap in a big way

...hey so I wrote this entire post at 1 in the morning and then saved it to drafts because I didn't want to post something at 1 in the morning. the Timekilling Time trailer came out about two hours later, featuring both Rodya... and the long-awaited return of the Yurodiviye. so now it's past 3 in the morning for me but I'm posting it now anyway because ohohoho seeing the Yurodiviye again has given me SO much energy

I have a feeling all this is going to be very relevant extremely soon

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Bang!

pairing: virgin!felix x experienced!afab!reader

genre: fluff, smut

word count: 3.8k

warnings: nipple play, oral (m receiving), fingering, protected sex (a first in my fics haha), second hand embarassment

a/n: inspired by felix banging his head on every table he comes close to😂

idk how many times i will write virgin felix let me live okay (i wrote this on a whim)

~check out: Masterlist

Deep breath in. Long breath out. Deep breath in. Long breath out. Deep breath- oh fuck this.

Felix can't breathe. Not when he's standing in front of your door, ready to knock as his hand pauses mid-air.

How will he look you in the eyes when you appear in front of him? He couldn't even sleep last night.

There was no scenario he didn't run in his head over and over again. Like what if he does something wrong and it turns you off? What if he accidentally hurts you? He would never forgive himself. What if he's not good at all, too awkward and inexperienced for you? What if you don't like his stuff? What if he can't please you at all and you're disappointed and you leave him?

His mind went to some really dark places as he kept overthinking about everything and comparing himself to your exes while he secretly stalked their social media in bed.

Despite feeling discouraged, he manages to finally knock on the door and he stands still, listening to his rapid heartbeat and your footsteps nearing the door.

You're so estatic to see your boyfriend that you yank the door open a little too enthusiastically, making Felix jolt before he chuckles nervously at your smiling face.

"Hey."- your expression softens when you see him looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Hey. Um, I made these for you."- Felix lifts his hand up, holding a cute bag with little hearts on it and you peer inside, already knowing that in the tuperware lay his famous brownies.

"Aw, Lixie thank you! You're too sweet!"- you chuckle, leaning closer to him to peck his lips.

You notice he's stiff, he must be nervous because of the talk you had last night where he told you he was ready to take the next step in your budding relationship.

You were more than ready to take things to the next physical level, especially since you've had relationships before and even though Felix dated, he said he wanted to wait for the right person.

Him calling you the right person for him and trusting you with something so delicate like his first time, made you love him even more and you felt honored he chose you.

You were determined to make everything as relaxing and pleasurable as it can possibly be, you even made his favorite dinner and picked out a fun movie to relax beforehand.

Felix was relieved to find out you'd eat dinner first because that gave him some time to calm down (freak out even more) and he was trying to hype himself up the whole time as you talked about your day.

The food you cooked for him was delicious but he didn't want to eat too much in case he throws up because his stomach was swirling with butterflies, making him feel nauseous.

You could see that he was still so nervous, his leg was shaking under the table during dinner and he was mostly avoiding to look into your eyes.

He helped you clean up before the two of you moved to the couch to watch the movie.

You sat close to him, wanting to cuddle like you always do when you watch tv together but Felix jumped a little before settling next to you.

"You okay?"- you ask cautiously, your hand on the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair and he shivers.

"Fine. Completely fine."- he says but you shake your head and pause the movie.

"Love, we don't have to do it tonight if you're not ready. I don't want you to feel any kind of pressure because I really don't mind waiting."- you tell him truthfully as you gently hold his hand and Felix's eyes fill with love as he looks at you.

"No, I'm ready, I am! I'm just a little nervous."

"That's understandable."- you say before you give him a small smirk, your hand on his cheek.

His eyes flutter as he leans into your touch instantly and stares at you like a lovesick puppy.

"Let me help you relax, hm?"- you whisper as you lean in closer, pressing your lips into his.

Felix kisses back, and the kiss is sweet and gentle, just like him. Your hands hold his precious face as he hesitantly places his on your waist.

You kneel on the couch, hovering over him as he runs his hands gently up and down on your sides. You swipe your tongue across his bottom lip and Felix parts his lips, letting you in.

You play with his tongue, circling around it with yours, licking at his mouth and gently sucking on his tongue. You can tell he's getting worked up as you play with his hair and he squeezes your waist a little, fingertips digging into your back.

You decide to throw your leg over him and sit in his lap, pressing your core against him and Felix jolts, whimpering into your mouth as you stimulate his growing erection.

And here he was, worrying about his thing having performance anxiety. That was one worry he could check off in his head, because there was no way he wouldn't get aroused with you on top of him like that.

You could feel him through layers of clothing, and it made your arousal drip on your panties.

You couldn't wait to see him, touch him, taste him, feel him. You roll your hips experimentally against his, dragging your clothed pussy against him and Felix grunts, his head falling back as his hands grip at your hips.

His eyes are closed, his eyebrows furrowed and his face is flushed. You can tell he's holding back as you slowly grind against him.

"Lix, look at me."- you say, gently touching his cheek and he opens his eyes, embarassment and arousal painted inside them.

"Does it feel good?"- you ask, pressing harder into him and feeling him grow more with your movement.

"S-so good."- he's quiet and stares at your breasts as he answers.

You grab his face to make him look at you and the sweet innocent bambi eyes he gives you make you want to devour him whole.

You lean his head back a little and bring your lips to his hot skin, leaving kisses on the column of his neck.

Felix starts breathing harder as he holds in his moans, afraid that he might let out embarassing sounds. His fingers are digging into your hips and as you bite down on his sensitive skin, he accidentally grinds up into you, bringing more friction to the both of you.

You moan and his cock twitches in his pants at the sound, his eyes falling to your breasts again. You can see he's entranced by them so you decide to indulge his silent wish as you reach down to the hem of your shirt.

His lips part as you pull it over your head, and Felix sees the lacy blue bra you're wearing. It's almost like you have nothing on because he can see your nipples through the lace and his mouth waters at the sight, his cock leaking in his boxers.

"Oh wow."- he says then chuckles.

"You like? I wore it for you."- you say, your hands sliding down to rest on top of his.

"I'm really lucky."- he says, his face completely red as he looks at you sweetly.

"Me too."- you smile as you grip his hands and slide them up to your breasts.

"Can I?"- he licks his lips and you giggle at his sweetness.

"Ofcourse. They're yours."- you say and Felix leaks in his boxers again as he squeezes your breasts gently.

"Mine..."- he says, his face mesmerized as he massages them. You moan, arching into his touch, his hands feel perfect on you like he was made just for you and you were made just for him.

He swipes his thumbs against your nipples and you whimper, making him flick his eyes up at your face. When he sees the look of arousal on your face, he feels a bit more confident as he starts playing with your nipples, lightly pinching them and rolling them between his fingers.

"Ahh, Lixie!"- you whine, your hips moving against him again and he thinks he just might cum in his pants before you even get to take them off and that would be freaking embarassing so he tries to forget about himself and focus on giving you pleasure.

He moves the lace to the side, revealing your nipple before he leans in closer, his hot breath hitting your skin.

"Okay?"- he asks and you nod as he presses his lips on your nipple. His tongue darts out to play with the aroused bud and you whine, your hand gripping at his hair.

Felix's eyes glaze over as he grunts lowly, enveloping his lips around your nipple and gently sucking on it.

Pleasure courses through your body, down to your core that's clenching around nothing, your juices seeping onto your panties.

Felix closes his eyes and sucks harder, you keep gripping and releasing his hair as he moans around you. His hips start grinding up into you as he gives your other nipple the same treatment.

You think he's completely forgotten about what you two planned to do because he keeps sucking on your nipples, entranced with them and you gently caress his back and whisper his name.

He leans back to look at you, and he looks fucked out already.

"I- um, I'm sorry, they're so pretty. I could suck on them forever."- he confesses with a shy smile and you chuckle, grabbing his face.

"You can do that later. Right now, I'd like for us to go to my room and continue there. What do you say?"- you ask and he nods quickly.

"I'd love that."- he says and you giggle, feeling giddy as you stand up and hold his hand, dragging him to your room.

You gently push him to sit on your bed before adjusting your bra.

"I want to show you something first."- you say as you start unbuttoning your pants and Felix gulps.

You slide them down slowly and his mind is dizzy when he sees the matching panties and your cunt wrapped with the lace like a little present just for him.

He groans at the sight, his cock is painfully hard as you make your way to him.

"Take your shirt off, baby."- you say and Felix obliges immediately.

"These too, you don't need them."- you pull at his jeans with a smirk and he swallows as he slowly unbuttons them and slides them down.

Arousal gushes on your panties when you see his hard cock straining in his boxers, a patch of wetness where the head is.

"Lixie."- you bite on your lip, hands on his thighs and he lets you part them as he looks up at you through his long eyelashes.

"Y/n..."- he whimpers quietly as you massage his thighs.

You slide your hand towards his erection, and look at him, seeing panic appear in his eyes.

"Is it okay if I touch you, baby?"- you ask gently, your hand stopping on his inner thigh.

"Yes, yes please."- he says, nodding quickly.

You cup his cock with your hand and Felix moans, leaning into your touch immediately, his legs opening up more.

"Mm..."- he presses his lips together as you start palming him, you pussy throbbing to feel him inside you.

"Relax, baby."- you coo at him, squeezing his cock and caressing his face. "Let me hear your pretty moans, Lixie."

His lips part as he looks at you sweetly, moaning quietly as you work his length.

"Let's get rid of these."- you hook your fingers in his boxers and he nods.

You slowly slide them down, his hard cock slapping against his abs, the tip glistening with pre cum and Felix turns away from you, his eyes squeezed shut.

"So pretty."- you mutter and get down on your knees between his legs, your hand wrapping around him.

Felix looks at you and gasps when he sees your lips close to his tip.

"Y-you don't have to do that."- he says and you bite on your lip.

"I want to Lixie. I wanna make you feel good."- you say.

"B-but I feel good already."- he gulps and you chuckle. He's too sweet that it makes you wanna please him even more.

"I know baby but I can make you feel even better. Do you trust me?"- you ask, slowly jerking his twitching cock.

"Ah- yes, yes I trust you!"- he whimpers, hips lifting up into your hand.

You lean in and lick at the pre cum oozing out of his tip, making Felix shiver. You play with his tip as he observes you with lustful eyes, before you wrap your lips around him, taking him in your mouth. He can't even look at you anymore, thinking that he'll bust as soon as he sees your face and your lips wrapped around his cock so sinfully as you bob your head and take more and more of him in.

You moan around his length, stimulating him as your other hand cups his balls to get his attention, you want him to look at you and Felix jolts, legs shaking a little as he grips the blanket under him and finally looks at you.

"Oh-" -he whimpers, seeing you drooling all over his cock, almost all of it disappearing inside your hot mouth, and when you look up at him with a dark look in your eyes, Felix crosses off you not liking his stuff, because you're obviously enjoying yourself.

"B-baby... I'm gonna cum if you continue."- he whimpers.

You pop off of him and smirk.

"You taste so good, Lixie."- you say as you bite on your lip with a sly smile.

"Oh yeah?"- he asks, his face red.

"Mhm."- you lift up and grab his face, crashing your lips on his and kissing him fervently.

He kisses you back desperately, and you can't wait anymore so you push him down and lean back.

Without words, you unhook your bra and toss it somewhere aside and Felix gulps as he looks at your breasts.

His hands are on your hips as he sits up and hooks his fingers in your panties.

"Let me."- he says and you nod as he slowly slides them off, your slick dripping down your inner thigh and Felix can smell your sweet juice.

He licks his lips, feeling hungry for you even more.

You smirk at his face and manouver over to lay down on the bed as he follows your movements.

"Come get a better look at what belongs to you, Lixie."- you smirk and Felix groans, his cock twitching hard and leaking again as you spread your legs.

Your glistening cunt is on display and he looks mesmerized again as his hand moves on it's own, fingertips on your wet folds.

"You're so wet."- he whispers.

"You did that."- you whisper back.

"I did?"- he asks.

"Yeah, you did baby. It's all for you."- you moan when he experimentally presses his thumb into your clit.

"Here?"- he asks, and you nod, your eyes falling to his cock and you can see that he's so hard, so ready to be inside you.

He circles his thumb on your sensitive nub, picking up on your reactions and making mental notes of what you like the most.

Your cunt keeps gushing with arousal and Felix feels pride swell in his chest as he runs his middle finger on your dripping folds.

"Can I?"- he asks for permission like the sweet boy he is and you nod.

"Please."- you whine and Felix slowly pushes his finger inside your wetness.

"Ah Lixie!"- you moan as he starts slowly pumping his finger, his thumb still on your clit.

"You sure you've never done this?"- you pant as he speeds up a little.

"Yeah."- he chuckles.

"So good! I need more Lixie, please."- you whimper, hips lifting up into him.

"Your wish is my command, baby."- he says, slowly pushing another finger inside you, your cunt stretching around him as you moan his name.

Felix checks off not being able to please you because he's obviously doing something right.

"Lix- Lixie, I need your cock!"- you become desperate and Felix's face flushes with warmness, traveling down his neck, to his heart, then to his navel right to his hard cock.

"O-okay."- he slowly pulls his fingers out and without thinking he wraps his lips around them to taste you.

You moan at the sight and Felix feels a little embarassed but you look so ready for him that he throws the embarassment in the back of his mind.

"There's a condom on the night stand."- you turn your head towards it and he nods grabbing it, before kneeling between your legs and pausing.

"What is it?"- you lean on your elbows as Felix looks unsure again.

"Can you- can you help me put it on?"- he asks timidly and you nod with a reassuring smile.

"Ofcourse, baby."- you say, grabbing the condom from his hands and opening up the wrapper with your teeth.

Felix smiles excitedly and nervously as you smirk up at him, the fact that he'll be inside you in mere seconds making his brain explode.

You slowly roll the condom on and he whimpers, biting on his lip as his eyes flutter shut.

"Come here."- you beckon him, your legs wrapping around his hips, bringing him closer and making his tip rub against your wet pussy.

There's just a moment of silent exchanges of looks full of love before he sinks his cock into your heat, stretching you perfectly, filling you up.

Both of you moan as he slowly opens you up and bottoms out.

"Oh my god. You're so warm and tight."- he whimpers into your ear and you let out a small chuckle, your pussy clenching around him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to say that out loud."- he grunts.

"It's okay Lixie. I wanna hear how good I feel to you."- you run your hands through his hair as he admires you.

He leans in for a kiss, something familiar in this new moment before he slowly starts moving his hips.

Your lover is all around you and inside you and both of you get lost in the moment, moving together into each other's bodies.

Your cunt wraps perfectly around him and you keep getting more wet making him slide more easily inside you, and Felix speeds up as he looks at your face contorted in pleasure, pretty moans spilling out of your lips.

He feels so prideful and happy that he's making you feel so good that more blood rushes to his cock, making him throb inside you.

Your moans get louder and more high pitched, he must be hitting the spot and bringing you to your high.

He gets so excited seeing you like that, that he fucks into you faster making you keen as you dig your nails into his back.

Bang!

Felix hits his head on the godforsaken shelf you installed randomly one day just so you can put some books and trinkets on it. He halts his movements groaning and cursing under his breath, and for good measure a book falls right on his head because of the force of his head colliding with the shelf.

The speed with which he pulls out of you and rolls over to face the wall, grabbing at his head, groaning loudly in pain and embarassment as he pulls his legs up in a fetal position, leave you stunned and you wonder for a moment what just happened.

A laugh bubbles in your throat and you stiffle it, cursing yourself in your head before you cautiously roll over to your side and hover above Felix.

"Lix?"- you say.

"Lix is not here."- his voice is muffled as he buries his face in your blankets.

"Baby. Are you okay?"- you ask, your hand on his head, gently caressing him and he hisses.

"No, not really. That was the most embarassing thing that ever happened to me."- he whimpers, his eyes teary from the pain and embarassment he feels. "I just lost the last ounce of confidence I had. Probably also gave myself a concussion."

"It's okay, things like this happen in the bedroom all the time. This isn't a porn movie or something."- you try to comfort him.

"Y/n, just laugh at me. I can hear it in your voice."- he sniffles and you sigh.

"I won't laugh at you, I promise, I'm sorry, okay? It's my fault for putting the stupid shelf there."- you wrap your arms around him and Felix wants the earth to open up and make him disappear right this instant.

"No, it's my fault for being clumsy and embarassing."- he whimpers. "And my head really hurts now."- he adds, thinking that this wasn't one of the scenarios he prepared for.

"We can put some ice on it. I'll give you some painkillers. Just look at me first."- you say, caressing him.

"Nuh-uh."- he refuses to budge as you try to turn him around.

"Come on Lixie, it's not that serious. We can continue later."- you lean in and kiss his shoulder.

"You still wanna continue?"- he finally turns to look at you and your heart hurts at his teary eyes.

"Ofcourse I do."- you coo at him as you pull him into your arms and he buries his face in your chest.

"Me too but I need to gather all my brain cells back first."- he mumbles into your skin and you chuckle as you hold him, gently caressing his head.

"They're around somewhere."- you joke, trying to relax him. "We'll find them. We have all night."

"We do, yeah?"- he looks up at you with his big bambi eyes, making your heart swell as you lean in and kiss him lovingly.

You're sitting in the kitchen, him in his boxers and you in one of his shirts you borrowed as you hold the bag of frozen peas on his head.

He drinks the painkillers you gave him with water and looks at you, his face red and eyes full of regret and embarassment.

"I knew it couldn't be perfect. I'm sorry y/n, I really wanted to make you feel good and-"

"Lix, nothing is perfect. Stuff like this happens a lot, trust me. At least we have a funny memory we can always remember."- he sighs and nods.

"And you did make me feel good. So don't worry. This is just like... intermission."- you say and he chuckles. "There's still a whole other part of entertainment we will get to."- you add, smirking as you lean closer to his face.

"I feel like that's gonna be my favorite part."- he says and you agree, chuckling with him.

"Let's just not entertain ourselves under the shelf anymore because I don't think my head and my pride can take any more blows."- Felix says and you laugh as you lean in to kiss him.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny

Hope you like this lovey💕🤭 @lixies-favorite-cookie

[cyberstudious]

2025, week 1 (dec 30th - jan 5th) ✨

for this year, I felt inspired to take a page out of @lostlibrariangirl's book and try weekly posts! I like the idea of collecting little moments throughout the week & reflecting on them at the end.

this week was very strange and kind of difficult, tbh. I blame new year's day falling in the middle of the week - my routine-loving brain did not have a good time haha. I was also struggling to get some work projects done. I find that some projects flow really well, and others seem to drag on forever and make me question my purpose, but I suppose it all balances out in the end. I'm hoping that things will feel more normal next week, now that all the holidays are over. swinging between feeling super exhausted and super motivated is not fun :(

one of the things that I did this week was fill out a goals page in my 2025 planner! I wrote down a lot, but I think they're all achievable, and it's okay if I don't get everything! it'll still be nice to look back at the end of the year and see what I've done. there are some cybersecurity courses that I want to work through, and I want to properly get back into language learning this year, but I wrote down some fun goals, too! here is a small selection of what I want to try and do in 2025:

complete the TCM Practical Malware Analysis and Triage course

read a book in Spanish

reach 50 birds on my life list (this is a totally arbitrary number, but that's like 1-2 new birds per month which I think I can do if I really try) (a subgoal of this is trying to spot an american woodcock bc their range technically overlaps with where I live and they are so goofy looking. I want to see one of them doing that funky lil dance in person so bad)

mend at least 1 item of clothing

get a technician amateur radio license (everyone on my dad's side of the family is licensed, and I think it would be a fun hobby to get into as a combo of learning the science behind radio & also learning to help with communications from a disaster preparedness perspective)

I think 2025 is going to be a year where I have to keep reminding myself that I can do anything, but not everything. I also want to make it a year of reaching out and forging connections with people in my community & online friends. the world feels like a very heavy place more days than not, but we can get through it together.

some highlights from this week:

drinking lots of tea

settling into my 2025 planner

getting back into language learning with clozemaster & busuu

outlining & starting the first draft of a fic that's taken over my brain the past few weeks lol

finishing two projects at work so I can start fresh next week

[wh0rrorb4by]

big brother - kuroo

tw: stepcest but take it however u want lol, naive reader, virginity loss, dubcon(?), umm i need big bro kuroo in my life

18+

ugh. thinking about kuroo as your older (step) bro and how annoying he’d be. constantly making fun of your height, eating the last of everything in the house (even when you wrote your name on it!), hogging the bathroom in the morning or waltzing in while you’re either in the shower or only half-dressed. he literally has no boundaries with you!

he reads your diary and holds it over your head when you demand he give it back, making you jump and paw at him for it. and if you don’t give him a kiss on the cheek he’ll read it. it’s so embarrassing! he doesn’t need to know about your fantasies, or how it makes you giddy when his friend bokuto playfully puts his arm around you and calls you affectionate nicknames — especially baby sis. God, kuroo never let you live that one down. you thought your face was going to catch on fire when he pinched your cheeks and asked if you got excited when he called you that, too. it was humiliating, and you swore he placed a ban on bokuto coming within 20 feet of you after that.

he’s such a clingy big brother, too. always hugging and grabbing at you, making you sit on his lap so he can squeeze you, holding you down and tickling you until you’re squirming and squealing — and he won’t stop that unless you give him a kiss on the lips. it’s so annoying. and he’s always coming into your room in the middle of the night to “check on you,” but really it’s just so he can crash in your bed and keep you close to him all night. he caught you by surprise the first time he did it, walking in to see you whining and humping your pillow like you were in heat. you’d never been so embarrassed in your entire life. you started crying, thinking he was going to tease you like he always does, but he only let out a breathy chuckle and told you it was okay, that it was normal. he even told you that it was hot, that guys love little virgins who get themselves off so cutely, and asked why you even bothered with a pillow when he was just across the hall.

that’s when you started to realize that even though he’s annoying, he really is a nice big brother. you couldn’t imagine any other brother letting his little sister tag along with him to everything, or letting you cry in his arms when you were all worked up and just couldn’t cum on your own. it broke his heart when you told him you think you’re just defective, that you’ll never be able to please a guy if you can’t even please yourself. you guessed he just felt bad for you when you cried, that he really had a soft spot for his little sister, because he offered to teach you how to touch yourself. you were grateful to have such a smart big brother, too, because after just looking at your hands he found that the problem was that your fingers are just too small! you need big, long fingers to really make you feel good. better yet, you need a long, thick cock to really give you a good orgasm — and who better to guide you through your first time than your big brother, who’d taken care of you your whole life? you were nervous to accept at first, but he eased your little mind by telling you that only bad brothers leave their baby sisters all needy and empty and insecure about still being a virgin, and besides, he’d take better care of you than anyone else could. and he was so right — you were shaking and whining and cumming all over your sheets by the time he bottomed out inside you and taught you the proper way to rub your little clit. kissing with tongue really helped you get more into it, too.

by the time he fucked you open enough to really start thrusting, you were all dizzy and dumb and wondering why you didn’t come to him earlier. and when he was whispering praise in your ear and sucking marks into your neck and filling you up with his warm cum, all you could think about was how grateful you were to have such a good big brother.

[touchme-teezme]

Why Me?

PAIRINGS | collegeboy!yeosang x fab!reader

TAGS | plot with some porn, kissing, fingering, unprotected sex, angsty & high tension dialogues bcs reader and yeosang are in situationship & figuring it out, reader is a player and avoidant, yeosang gets attached too easily. oopsie.

RATING | NSFW 21+ (Minors pls DNI/if it makes you uncomfortable don’t read thx)

SUMMARY | Yeosang realized he had feelings for you at the worst possible moment—now he’s spiralling and needs an outlet. Lucky for you, you’re here. Unlucky for you, it comes with a cost.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | oK this was plot heavy. lowkey in my feelings when i wrote it and i didn’t rlly want smut to be the focal point of all the stories — especially if i didn’t think it fit the members. so we’re trying something new out with yeo’s part. i hope you like it hehe enjoy freaks (complimentary). if you catch any mistakes, no you didn’t. i proofread with vibes not scrutiny.

💌 click here to see my Love Interrupted series masterlist [ot8] — check out the other parts!

inspired by pink matter & bad religion by frank ocean

(frank come home pls i can’t do this anymore.)

Yeosang wasn’t the nosy type—he liked to think he was above that.

Normally, he’d get himself to stop missing you by scrolling through your posts or replaying your story highlights like a perfectly chill (totally not obsessed) person. But today curiosity dragged him into the abyss that was your tagged photos.

And that’s where he saw it. Them.

The two others you were seeing on the side. He’d heard rumours but didn’t believe them until he saw Lee Chan’s hands on your ass as you were hugging him or a selfie where you were a little too close to Choi Yeonjun.

Even he never had a photo with you where your cheeks were squished against each others.

“Relax,” Wooyoung had told him that night he confided in his friend, “It’s normal. They’re probably just on her roster. You guys aren’t exclusive anyway.”

Now, every time he lay flat on his back, staring at a ceiling, his mind went into the same place:

How did you meet them? How long have you been seeing them? Do they know what you like? Or worse—did you touch them the same way you’re touching him right now?

And seriously, how the fuck did you and Yeonjun even meet?

“Yeosang, i’m talking to you.”

“Huh?” His head jerked up at the sound of your voice, only to find you staring up at him from between his legs, mouth hovering just shy of the fabric of his underwear.

His pants were bunched at his ankles, and he was sprawled out with his knees hanging off the bed—one hand casually tucked under his head.

The angle was doing the most to show off how much gym time he and San had clearly been clocking lately.

“I asked if I can—“

“Uh… Y-Yeah, yeah go ahead.”

You sighed, rising from your knees to gracefully mount his body. Straddling him with elegance, you leaned down, your face inches from his clearly preoccupied gaze.

Speaking of gazes, his eyes were your favourite. Your knuckles grazed his birthmark, then you casually swept his hair back.

"What's going on?"

He reacted instantly, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply as he leaned in. You felt his hands glide down your spine, past the hooks of your bra. He shook his head, "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Something’s definitely going on because I was about to suck you off and you haven’t looked at me once.”

Yeosang gently placed his hand on the back of your head and flipped you over, landing you on your side.

He then adjusted himself, kicking off his jeans with a nonchalant flick of his ankle. Scooting closer to your flushed face, his silence was starting to make you a tad more nervous than usual.

“Is everything okay?” You shifted closer to his body.

“I wanted to ask you something, and I need you to be honest.”

“Oh. Sure.” Your eyebrows rose. “But maybe we save the serious talk for after, you know, the fun stuff?” You started trailing your fingers along the faint ridges of his abs.

He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his as he stared down at your joined hands. “Do you…” He trailed off, recalibrating mid-sentence. “How long are we going to keep having fun?”

“Well,” you said, blinking like it was the most obvious answer in the world, “A few rounds, a few hours—though if you do that thing I like, I might have to keep you here a bit longer.”

You leaned in for a kiss, slow and deliberate, your lips skimming his bottom lip. His hand slipped to your ass like muscle memory, but instead of diving in, his brain just had to keep working.

“No, not this,” he mumbled between kisses before pulling away with all the self-control and focus in the world. “I mean… this—as in, us. How much longer are we going to keep this going?”

“Oh.” You paused, your eyes darted between his face and the diminishing gap between your bodies. “I don’t know… as long as we want to?”

His jaw tightened, his expression unreadable.

“Do you not want to anymore?” You asked.

“It’s not that,” he sighed. “I’m starting my internship next semester. I just… I needed to know if I have a reason to turn down that offer in Busan.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, all you could hear was the faint hum of the city beyond your creaked window.

“Well,” you said. “I told you…if you want to, you should.”

“So you think I should go?”

“I think you should do whatever makes you happiest.”

“And what if what I want doesn’t make you happy?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced a shrug. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“But it does. It matters to me.” His voice dipped, tinged with frustration, though his gaze softened into something you hadn’t seen before.

“So… what do you want me to say?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” His voice cracked just enough to make your chest tighten. “That you want me to stay. That this is something important to hold on to or that…” He gestured vaguely to himself, as if it physically pained him. “…that I’m not just someone you fuck when everyone else is busy.”

Oh.

You sighed, sitting up to rake your fingers through your hair while pulling your knees to your chest.

Maybe it was one of the guys you’d been seeing who ran his mouth. Word gets around campus pretty easily when you have mutual friends. It’s also not like you were deliberately hiding it, but you somehow still felt a little ashamed for him to find out.

Yeosang, on the other hand, looked like he’d rather dissolve into thin air. Maybe insecurity had sucker-punched him or he was catching feelings and scared you’d bolt the moment he brought it up.

“I don’t know why I said that,” he muttered, voice soft and far away. “I’m sorry I brought it up.” He shifted to sit next to you, his posture mirroring yours.

“It’s fine,” You tried to sound reassuring, but the weight of his question hung in the air.

You glanced at him, and damn his side profile wasn’t helping you think straight. “So, what is it? You don’t want me seeing anyone else?”

His sharp inhale said it all. “I can’t tell you what to do, but just so you know, I’m not seeing anyone else,” his voice was rough, like he was trying to swallow the words before they came out. “I don’t even want anyone else. I don’t know how you do it, how you can… be with anyone else.”

Yeosang turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “I just… I want to know if it could ever be… just me.”

He’d meant it when he swore off relationships — especially after what happened to San, he believed that was more than enough to convince him that relationships weren’t worth it.

But the more he saw you, the more his wishes began to crack. The more he wanted it to be only him you came back to.

“What am I to you?” he asked finally, the question breaking the silence.

You swallowed, searching for words that felt like truth but wouldn’t cut too deep. “You’re…” The answer wavered, unsure even as it left your lips. “You’re someone I care about. A lot.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to kiss him, trying to drown out the conversation in the only way you knew how.

His fingers gripped your hips tightly, grounding you against him, and you felt a flicker of guilt at the way you were avoiding his question but it melted away when you felt his tongue slip in.

When you pulled back, he was breathless and flushed, his chest heaving as if he’d just surfaced from underwater. His hands stayed firmly on your love handles, and his forehead leaned against yours.

“For fuck’s sake…” he muttered, the frustration thick in his voice. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair like that would somehow untangle the mess in his brain. “Why me?”

“Yeosang?”

He realised right then and there, there was no changing your mind.

He snapped back to reality, his grip tightening as his hands slid down to your thighs. In one smooth move, you were on your back and he was settling himself right on top of you.

Yeosang settled between your thighs. He rocked his hips, grinding himself against you, seeking friction and relief as your lips wouldn’t leave his alone.

You cupped the side of his face, looking up at him between breaks of the kiss to slide a gentle slow finger into his mouth for him to suck as he held your stare.

Your other hand pushed away the curtain of hair falling from his face, admiring his bare beauty in your touch.

You liked how he reacted to your touches, how at a single command he kneels, he’d do anything for you if you’d ask — maybe that’s what scared you in return but you’d never tell him that.

You both eventually fell on your sides, not a single word besides the usual moans and gasps of “yes”, “like that”, and yeosang’s personal favourite: “i need you right now.”

Before you knew it, your back faced him and you were both entirely undressed.

He held you tight, pressing his face into the sweet spot where your neck met your shoulder. His lips trailed kisses there as his hands explored your familiar curves. Your hips ground back against him, rubbing your ass over his erection.

His fingers danced across your stomach before slipping lower. You groaned, feeling his fingers open to a ‘V’ to graze the sides of your entrance with light strokes.

His focus on you was primal and hungry as he started circling the your folds in a distinct pattern. He sunk two fingers deep inside your slick clenching heat, earning a breathy whine that was turning him on relentlessly. Your breath was hot against his ear as you watched him work, your inner muscles clenching greedily.

Yeosang knew your body the best out of the others. He always paid attention to your physical reactions to what you really like and what hurt you. After a while, he got the hang of it pretty damn quick.

Between the gentle caresses and firmer strokes, he was driving you higher, teasing you mercilessly—and yet, he hadn’t even gone all the way. But holding out much longer wasn’t an option; the things you were saying were wrecking his focus, leaving his restraint hanging by a thread.

You’re the only one I want.

You make me feel so good.

I want you so bad.

Don’t get him wrong, the sex was great — but even with you naked in his arms, swearing he was the one you wanted, he didn’t feel it. Because desiring him wasn’t the same as making him yours—and you never would.

You held his face behind you, anchoring your hand on the nape of his neck as he pounded into you with his hard throbbing cock into you at an angle that was blurring your vision.

He was eagerly grabbing a handful of your breast, teasing your nipple between his fingers as he sucked onto your neck, whining against your skin.

He pushed your knee higher. Gripping your side like he was holding on for dear life, he thrust into you with the determination, only to pull out slowly, and savouring the moment.

The increasing pace turned your moans into a symphony of pleasure, loud enough to give the neighbors an unsolicited introduction to Yeosang’s name. They might not have seen him, but they sure knew who he was now.

The sound of skin meeting skin, punctuated by the occasional slap of his hand against your ass made you grin.

“Fuck! Yeosang!” You exclaimed.

“I know baby, I know,” he replied, his voice a low, reassuring rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

His focus unwavering. It was as if he had a singular mission: to bring you to the peak of pleasure and join you there.

He eventually sent you over the edge. You bit down on your lip as he showered you with open-mouthed kisses on one side of your face.

“Shit… Yeosang, that was— you felt so fucking good.” You barely caught your breath.

You held his face over your shoulder and he smiled back, feeling your thumb stroke the side of his face before coming in for a rewarding kiss.

Yeosang had it all—looks, charm, the perfect height for you, and you always had a soft spot for the shy types. Sure, his borderline obsession with video games wasn’t exactly your favorite thing, but hey, at least it wasn’t destructive.

Still, no matter how great he was, Yeosang realised the truth you’d never admit: a relationship wasn’t exactly your thing.

Still, his visit to your neighbourhood didn’t end on that note.

After a few rounds of small talk and a necessary bathroom breaks, you were back to your usual routine — with a few new surprises.

It included him kneeling before your parted legs as you sat on the edge of the bed, watching him savour, and lick up your core. It wasn't long before your leg found its way over his shoulder, trembling and quivering as you held onto the back of his head.

Then came the moment when he held your wrists behind your back, taking you from behind. Fucking. Hell. The spanking returned, accompanied by a string of praises in that low voice of his and it turned you on more than anything else he’d ever tried.

You were so caught up in the bliss and pleasure of the moment, reveling in how he truly outdid himself tonight, that you missed two things:

Yeosang had whispered "I love you" at the peak of his final climax.

And this was going to be the last time.

Yeosang was so haunted by the painful realization that if he ever walked away, you wouldn't miss him.

After all, there were plenty of others ready to take his place by your side, as if he were just another face in the crowd.

He knew you were never going to change your mind, even when he was the one on the line.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, you were fast asleep. Yeosang watched the steady rise and fall of your bare back, the room quiet except for your soft breathing. The faint jingle of his belt buckle broke the stillness as he slipped into his jeans.

He caught sight of himself in your full-length mirror in the corner, you sound asleep behind him, and all he felt was emptiness. The faint marks on his neck and chest—your handiwork—didn’t even draw the usual smirk.

He slipped his shirt back on and crept out of your place, the same way he’d done countless times before.

Standing on the corner of your street, he pulled out his phone and fired off an email accepting the position. One press of “send”, he raised his arm, hailing a taxi without a second glance back.

A yellow coloured taxi pulled up just as he tucked the phone back into his pocket. He climbed in, saying the name of his street and sinking into his seat, completely worn out.

The driver nodded without saying much from the rearview mirror where a string of beads with a tassel hung. The car pulled away from that street.

He stole another glance at Yeosang, whose watery eyes and faraway stare made it seem like the weight of the world was crushing his shoulders.

“You okay, kid?”

“Yeah,” Yeosang muttered, leaning against the glass. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

His phone buzzed in his jeans pocket, and his gaze dropped to the screen—Wooyoung’s name lighting up, accompanied by that dumb photo he’d set as his own contact picture.

He’d hoped that by the sixth missed call—during the time Yeosang had your arms pinned behind your back—Wooyoung would finally give it a rest.

But if there was one thing everyone knew about Wooyoung, it was that his commitment to annoying his friends was unmatched.

“Fucking finally, where are you?” Wooyoung’s voice came through, loud and chaotic, with the telltale background noise of a busy restaurant.

“Home,” Yeosang lied, voice barely above a mumble and cleared his throat. “Why?”

“Perfect, so you’re close. Everyone’s already here—your roommate, Hwa, the usual. San and Mingi bailed though. Typical. Anyway, you promised you’d show up tonight, so—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Yeosang cut him off, not in the mood for one of Wooyoung’s endless rambles.

Wooyoung, sharp as ever, caught the attitude immediately. “Don’t be a dick. We’ll just see you at the club if you’re gonna take forever.”

“Yeah, sure. Bye.” Yeosang ended the call before Wooyoung could get another word in. He didn’t even flinch when he heard Wooyoung start to curse—cutting him off mid-sentence was the point.

The driver glanced at him as they pulled to a stop at a red light, an eyebrow quirking in silent judgment. “A lot going on, huh?”

Yeosang’s eyes stayed fixed on the city lights, streaking and blurring as they sped past. “You have no idea.”

The driver shrugged, settling back into his seat. “Well, it’s a long drive to where you’re headed. I’ve got time.”