#I'm bad at comprehend word sometimes

[wimsiecal]

I cannot tell you how many times my ADHD has deceived me when it comes to reading some of my mutual's usernames. I swear it'll be the same person I've seen for like months or years and I'll be like oh it's that guy dudesomethingorother and then suddenly one day I'll ACTUALLY take the time and look at it again more closely and it'll be like dudesomewhereinwhoresville and I'll be like

Who... are you??? What treachery is this???

[qyriaha]

walking that tightrope in therapy where i'm like yeahhh a really fun example of how i've felt more emotional this week is bc i was uh... gaming. yeah. that. not the other Thoughts

[cardo-de-comer]

soo helloo and i think it's time for me to explain the deal with my characters and this whole "you're not supposed to be here" thing. EDIT: just fixed some stuff. thank you folks for your support, i really appreciate you all <3

i made these characters way back in june and by today they have a lot of lore around them in my head. i even have a dream to make a game with them but it's just a dream for now so i'm gonna try to explain the main things about this story. Obviously this is a long post, although I tried to keep this stuff short. and excuse me for my writing and any mistakes, I don't usually write this much text.

It starts with the world. Alternate 15th century, humanity is almost gone and what's left of it shares quite a big city with demons and angels. However, demons and angels are usually being treated like servants - eventually one gets tired of it all, so everyone knows an uprising is just around the corner. Let's just ignore that for now.

The City has a catch of it's own - it's alive. The walls have eyes and ears and the City knows every resident by heart and soul, both figuratively and literally. Usually City acts through the King, it chooses protectors for itself, ones who have strong minds to comprehend it - they will be called the royal knights, each of them have a company of a /more wiser than the rest of them/ demon and angel to help with their tasks. Only the King and ten royal knights know that the City is alive and very talkative but they don't understand fully what it's trying to tell them. Most of them choose to ignore the voices in their head because hey, that's what you do usually in this situation, otherwise they drive you nuts.

City is also extremely emotional and appearance depends on its condition. Usually it's a sunny day out and the city looks welcoming, but you don't want to be there when the City is scared: it might eat you alive by accident. Now that the environment is aside, time for the main three characters.

Imri is a young lad who will soon be a royal knight. He actually wanted to be a painter when he grows up but well, you cannot disobey the king's orders. Quite emotionless and a man of a few words, he tries to stay on a neutral ground between good and bad - a perfect candidate for manipulation to all three sides, demons, angels and the City.

look at him

Royal knights get to know their angel and demon companions at least a week before they get knighted to avoid any misunderstandings. Imri doesn't mind his friends at all, although one of them caused quite a fuss.

Angel /they name themselves Lyra/ is an overly positive, naive and blindly kind entity. A bit childish and very fond of justice, they try to act as a voice of conscience, not understanding that sometimes this can make everything even worse than it was. There is a feeling that they're trickier than it seems but you can never quite tell.

the latin text all over them is just a part of their design

The demon though... That's not even a demon, that's the Devil himself. Yes, everyone knows who this is, everyone avoids him and he's not supposed to be here at all. Despite being THE Devil, he didn't try to do anything horrific yet and, when he's not joking around, he tries to be the voice of reason, the voice that no one listens to. He seems to know a lot more about this whole world than anyone else but he talks about it only when he wants to.

no one likes him at all, expect maybe Imri who just tolerates his presence like he always does

That's the main three. There is a few secondary characters, Imri's father being one of them.

sir Jastrab /or just Dell/ is one of the royal knights, he's a bit naive, loyal, and a soul so kind that his demon hung himself. Oh well. He lost one hand in what he calls "a work accident" which is partly true but he never goes into details.

He never wanted for his son to be a part of the knights because he knows by experience that it's not an easy job and not every father wants for their child to go insane from the voices in their head.

few people said that the angel accompanying him looks like d20 and so be it

The others are Sun and Moon - local deities, despite being on the sky every day and night, usually they don't really care about what's going on down below. You can still talk to them but don't expect much action. Regardless of all this, they are still loved by almost all living things. They can rarely meet each other but humans always depict them together no matter what. Although maybe humans are right...

creators of the Stars - some part of a human soul that i can't talk about :)

Angels and demons come in all forms and sizes but those are the main population - lesser demons resemble the Devil in some ways and lesser angels look like clovers. Rivals usually but when the revolution happens, they learn to tolerate and work with each other. Humanity doesn't really have a chance.

they hate everyone equally And there is another being, that Imri meets a few times through the story - it's Death. Death is just having fun in this end of the world and there is a lot of work to be done.

this is an old and rough design so maybe it'll change The whole story begins at that day when Imri is supposed to be knighted. Everything seemed fine until Imri gets to hear the City for the first time and realizes that he hears and sees a lot more than everyone else. Completely overwhelmed he blacks out - even the toughest of minds often can't take it - and wakes up later only to find out that the King got killed somehow, angels and demons saw this as the starting point for a revolution and the City starts to panic.

Now Imri, guided by his companions and the voice of scared City that's crumbling and slowly drives him insane, shall travel to the center of it to find out what really happened, getting through demons and angels who are busy destroying the rest of humanity. Fun.

There is a lot more to this whole thing but I cannot tell the entire plot because spoilers, in case if i actually will make something out of this story. Think of it as a game lore. I'm not sure about making sth yet because i operate only on hopes and dreams and i barely have any strength lately but who knows... But now you have at least some context! And yeah, thank you if you actually read all of this, you're a hero.

Now i need to get back to drawing. Thank you all for your support. <3

[goldsbitch]

remember that

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. But everyone need assurance that they are still loved sometimes. The first time Lando almost slept on a couch blurb

warning: couple fight, angst

It was bad. This time, it was really fucking bad.

After weeks of snarky comments being swallowed in, the "it's fine" line being burned into Lando's ears almost on a daily basis and growing minutes Y/N had to wait before Lando decided to respond to her texts, shit finally hit the fan.

They hadn't seen each other for two weeks now. Inevitable fight broke out right as he crossed the threshold. Postponed dates and forgotten dinners lined up. They couldn't help themselves and put it all on the table. First it was the fact she didn't smile upon seeing him, then it was a reminder that he promised to bring something from Italy and forgot. It went on and on and on. She sat at the dinning table, while he leaned over at the kitchen counter.

"Lando, sometimes it feels like I'm in a relationship with your assistant and not you! For heaven sake, this week I had to call him, once again, when I could not reach you. Do you know how embarrassing it is?" she half-screamed into her hands.

Lando took a breath so deep an average yoga teacher would be jealous. "How am I suppose to be expected to pick up on a race day. You know that I get super busy and distracted."

"Funny how you never were when we started dating," she murmured bitterly.

He had to turn away, couldn't watch his love giving up on him just because they were not in the honeymoon stage anymore. "Yes, but now I'm winning races! Closer to my dream that I've ever been. It's different now."

"I'm glad I met you back then, because obviously you'd not date me if we met now," she couldn't stop those words that rotted in her coming out.

A beat. Maybe it was time to actually break the rule for once and go to sleep angry, because it was getting out of hand. "You know what, that's probably true and it breaks my heart that once I start doing well, you're suddenly not the supporting girlfriend anymore."

A crushing blow. "Tell me how am I suppose to support you if you don't even answer my phone! We used to talk for hours!

"Maybe understand that I can't!"

"I do! But you can't assume that I'll let you push me away completely!"

Lando thew his hands up in desperation. How could she not see it? "I'm coming here to you whenever I have a slightest chance! And I come what? You constantly dragging me through the mud."

"Oh interesting you mention that. How sad that your assistant had to remind you of my sensitive skin before you having him book me an "apology mud massage" when you cancelled on me few weeks ago," se shot, knowing it would hit the target.

"How do you even know that!" he said, unable to comprehend that he did not even control his paid assistant, not mention his own life anyway.

"Well, I talk a lot to you assistant! And he slips up!" It was a weird friendship between people who both wished they could get a little more info out of Lando.

"That's it. I can't deal with this now," he said, with the intention to sleep on the couch for the first time in their relationship. He didn't even know why he chose that action, walking towards their bedroom and dramatically bringing a pillow and a blanket over to the sofa, but if this is what couples did when the fought, there must have been a reason for it.

It absolutely infuriated her. Sparked up something she hoped she'd never feel. "Oh, sleep tight." she spitted with bitter undertone.

"I will!"

//

They walked around each other in silence, him getting ready to sleep on the couch and her cutting her skincare short this time and spending more time debating whether to close the bedroom door as they usually would or leave it open. Just in case.

He could hear her shifting back and forth. It angered him a little bit, since he was the one playing a cruel joke on his already tired muscles.

Thousand things she wanted to say and only one came to her mind in a form of an actual sentence. There goes nothing. "Do you still feel good about this?"

"What?" he whispered, not expecting her to speak to him again before the next day.

"Nevermind, forget I asked."

"About what!" He hated when she did this. If you didn't catch up at the first moment, she did not give you a second chance.

"Do you still feel good about us, being together?" She cursed herself for asking this. Dangerous questions brought up explosive answers. She wished for a reassurance and a rejection. She snuggled deeper into her blanket and turned around to face the door. As if wishing for him to stand there and coming back to her.

Lando hated her question. In fact, it made him furious again. But it was a peace offering, he had already learned that before. "Even here, lying on the bloody couch, because we're fighting...It's the place I wanna be at."

Anxiety kicked in Y/N. "What, you mean like away from me?"

He laughed lightly. She was always thinking the worst. "No, silly. The exact opposite...We could both be at thousand different places at the moment. But we're not. And for me at least, it's because like---I want to be with you. I hate that we'd drifted apart lately. I'd love to be in bed with you, laughing without a care in the world, like we usually do. But, we can't do that now. And yet, I'd rather be left on the couch if I know you're next door than all alone in my bed." His words hit like small drops of rain after a long draught.

She whispered, choosing her words carefully. "You're my twin flame. You make my soul light up in fire, make me feel like I'm the sun. Do you know what my biggest fear is?"

Lando also tuned into sweeter tone, one that was more familiar from days filled with sunshine. "What, my love?"

"That we're gonna burn out. You and me, ending up like an epic love story. The good ones work because they end in tragedy."

"You're always so poetic," he smiled, proud to think he was her love story.

"There is no other way to describe how you'd changed my life. Flipped it upside down the moment you walked into the same room."

Lando chucked. "Yeah, remember that?"

"How could I not."

"You were not having a good day."

Finally, she spoke loudly again. "So, what? Everything was going to shit and the event we were doing had to be perfect before the 'important people' arrived".

"Such an ego boost to know I was your priority before you even met me," he uttered, happy to push her buttons.

"Oh, and you were so cocky! Just laughing around, like we were some sort of comedy sketch."

"Well, I'm sorry, have you heard yourself when you're upset? The way how your voice goes up seven octaves higher?" he laughed, his breath feeling lighter now.

"Coming from you, that's rich! You were giggling in a tone so high the elderly couldn't hear you!"

"I'm so happy I managed to bag the grumpiest person in the building. And bare in mind there must have been around 500 people there."

"980 if you could in staff as well."

He let out a heavy sigh. "You with your pristine memory."

She paused before responding. "Yes. Wish I didn't have that sometimes."

"Wish I had at least a pinch of that."

Silence fell in both rooms. Heavy breath and wondering eyes. The lack of their touch suddenly being more obvious than before. Playing a contest who will reach out first.

"Lando?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Can you back here, please?" she said, somewhat nervously. Lando took a pause. There was nothing he wished for more. It hurt to fight. But he figured a relationship needed that sometimes. As the poets say, you loose a woman when you forget to cherish her. He liked to think this went both ways. And they both started slacking a bit. He could only affect his own behavior, with the hope that she'd also come to the same understanding.

"I'd like nothing more in the world, my love."

[nightmareweaverz]

What Is Love? (Mr. Gap x GN!Reader)

(Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me)

This contains spoilers!!

CW: brief mention of murder, one single swear word, romantic gestures but it's all SFW, reader is a serial killer Word count: 1923

Hi, hello, I ended up writing fanfiction for this game after all. And it's for Mr. Gap because I love this dumb void creature obsessed with body parts. He's a love interest in the game, don't boo me, I'm right. Might continue this one later, maybe? Not sure if it's a one shot or not yet.

How long has it been since you’d decided to return to the other world indefinitely? You’re not entirely sure. Time is hard to measure here. You sleep when you are tired and you eat when you’re hungry. You’re at least certain you’ve slept many times since then. Sometimes you wonder whether decades go by as you remain here, among ghosts and monsters. 

If you’re entirely honest, it isn’t so bad. You can massacre whoever you please and nobody bats an eye. There’s no need to hide bodies, build alibis, get rid of evidence. 

Yet, at the same time, with every new set of hallways and decaying rooms, you begin to sympathize more with the likes of Mr. Stitch and Mr. Machete. You’d once wondered why someone would give away clothes for free or play hairdresser in this world. Now you find yourself yearning for something similar, a purpose or at least a way to pass the time. 

At least you aren’t alone. Mr. Gap has become an expected presence in every crevice, hole and gash you gaze into. He’s still a mischievous little jerk, of course, but there is comfort in knowing someone nonthreatening is at your side at all times. And he keeps your boredom at bay sometimes. 

One day (or perhaps night), you’re walking through the maze of hallways and rooms of the Other World, searching for a way to entertain yourself. You hope to encounter a new face. Or perhaps an old one. Part of you still hopes you’ll run into Mr. Crawling or Mr. Chopped again, as unlikely as it may be. 

Room, after room, after room, you walk. Until, eventually, your legs grow tired and, with a long sigh, you lean against a wall. Mr. Gap’s face appears in a nearby hole. 

“What wrong?” he inquires. 

“Bored,” you confess. 

“Me fun. Give your heart.” 

You scoff. “You not fun.” 

He shoots you a disgruntled look of disbelief, which begrudgingly makes you snicker. He thinks too highly of himself if he believes constant demands for body parts is considered entertainment. Messing with him on the other hand… 

You set your crowbar aside, then curl your palms in the shape of a heart, which you then present to Mr. Gap. 

“What you do?” 

“This is heart.” 

“That is hand.” 

“No, this is heart. Above world heart.” You grin mischievously. 

He looks entirely unimpressed and partially confused. “That not heart.” 

“This heart humans show when lots of like someone.” 

He goes quiet for a bit, still staring at your hands like they’re an unsolvable riddle. Then he stares at your face, even more confused. “You lots of like me?” 

Oh. You hadn’t considered that’s how the explanation would come across. You were only trying to poke fun at him. How do you talk your way out of this one? Would he get mad if you said no? Would it even be true to say no? You don’t think you’re ready for that type of introspection. 

“That…” you search for the right words in the very limited vocabulary of the Other World’s language. “Not… know…” you finally force out. 

“Why this heart show?” 

Now it’s your turn to grow frustrated with him. “Why you want heart?” 

He’s already given you an answer to that question in the past. Because it’s fun. Something you failed to comprehend. Perhaps the same way he failed to comprehend your idea of “like.” So before he can answer, you grab your crowbar and march off. 

Unfortunately, the question pops into your mind again as you continue to wander aimlessly. Can someone like you fall in love? 

You've taken so many lives, simply because it was fun or convenient or you got sick of their attitude. You've done the same thing in this world. 

The hunched over figure of Mr. Crawling pops into your mind. Then, the smiling face of Mr. Chopped. And, eventually, Mr. Gap's annoying grin. Those are people you wouldn't kill. They are people you want to keep around. Perhaps people you would kill for instead, if needed. But does this attachment go deep enough to be called love? 

Perhaps you aren't sure of what that feeling is anymore than Mr. Gap and it’s all feigned knowledge. 

Your feet are hurting by the time you finally find a proper place to rest. You've lost track of time. 

Though your body is tired, your mind remains restless as you set aside your crowbar and sit on the bed. This is a far cry from the entertaining activity you’d hoped to find. 

“What wrong?” a familiar voice inquires beneath the sheets. You lift them up to reveal Mr. Gap’ face once again. 

How do you even explain your issue to him? 

“Feeling not know.” 

He goes quiet for a bit. “Teach me lots of like?” 

Is he saying he wants you to explain love to him? How do you even begin to do that? Perhaps you can narrow it down to romantic love at least. 

“When lots of like, person special. Say nice words. Want to protect. Want to follow. Do special touch. Help person when need.” 

The limited vocabulary makes it especially hard to put it into words. You aren't sure how well you'd explain it to another human either. 

As expected, Mr. Gap looks puzzled. “Nice words? Special touch?” 

He's focusing on the more romantic aspects, it seems. You prop your head against your hand, thinking. “Nice words not have here language. My language have nice words.” 

“I see…” he murmurs. “Show special touch?” 

You pout at him. “Why?” 

“Want to know.” 

So he's just curious. Or, knowing him, he heard the word “special” and decided he wanted it to be about him. He does have a bit of a big ego, always taking pride in startling you, often shoving pages of articles about him in your face. You cross your arms and turn your back to him. 

“What wrong?” 

“You bad. Me need help, you want heart. Me need help, you want hand, you want head, you want leg. Me not show special touch.” 

“Me nice,” he says, sounding offended. You don't have to turn around to know he's giving you that astonished look he makes whenever you criticize or baffle him. 

You laugh mockingly. “Not. Goodnight.” And with that, you shove down the sheet, blocking him from view. He's always poking fun at you, it's about time he got a taste of his own medicine. 

. . . 

When you wake up, Mr. Gap is nowhere in sight. It isn't entirely unusual. He has moments when he's off doing his own thing. Deciding to do the same, you take off in search of something interesting to occupy yourself with. Preferably not another mind boggling question. 

Hours pass, probably. Residents appear every once in a while, some friendly, some hostile. None of them scare you anymore. You only interact with them to pass the time. Until you eventually come to a stop in a room full of debris and objects from the human world. There, you sit down and begin to search for anything worthwhile. Maybe something to read. 

To your luck, you gather several magazines and books. Your arms are full by the time you feel a tremor shake the room. Another earthquake. You waste no time getting out of there with your new haul. 

But as you stop to set everything down, you realize you've left your crowbar behind, in the now collapsed room. A few curses rush out under your breath. 

“Hello.” 

You turn around to find Mr. Gap peeking out of a hole in the wall. “Want attack tool?” He waves the tip of your lost crowbar around. “Take, take.” 

“Take? You not want heart?” 

“Not want!” 

Huh. Maybe he took your criticism yesterday to heart. You grab the crowbar and mutter a “Thank you.” 

That wide, unnerving smile of his spreads over his face before he fades off into the darkness. What is he planning now? 

For the next few days, he continues to go out of his way to bring you things, take you places and fulfill any requests you might have without demanding any body parts in exchange. Relying on him almost becomes a habit. However, you have a slight suspicion he's not doing this out of the goodness of his heart or because he felt particularly sad about your accusations. These nice gestures must be leading to something. 

And surely enough, at some point, during one of your breaks from wandering, he appears before you, looking particularly delighted. 

“Me nice. Show special touch.” 

How typical. You narrow your eyes at him. 

“No?” he asks, the smile fading from his face. 

Part of you wants to lecture him on doing all that to prove a point. The other part suspects it won’t do much. 

“Okay okay. Me show,” you give in. Maybe this will make him act nicer overall. You can't deny the fact that he's helped you a lot lately. 

“Thank you.” 

You position yourself directly in front of the hole in the wall and then point at him. “Hand.” 

He blinks. “Not give my hand.” 

Of course he thinks you want his severed hand. 

“Me touch your hand,” you clarify. At that, he finally understands and sticks one of his hands out. 

His palm feels cold and damp to the touch when you press yours against it, but his skin is oddly soft. You interlock your fingers. His own remain limp in the air for a moment. Then, upon observing what you're doing, his fingers press down against the back of your palm, mimicking yours. It's not an unpleasant feeling. 

Are his nails naturally black or does he paint them, you wonder. The image of Mr. Gap painting his nails makes you snicker internally. 

“This one touch,” you explain. “Human person do this with special person.” 

He stares at your interlocked hands, intrigued. “You know more?” 

Naturally, you do, but you hesitate as the next gesture comes to mind. Your own curiosity is beginning to kick in, ushering you to try it. Will it awaken anything in you? 

Driven by that curiosity you say: “Yes.” Then, reach into the opening in the wall with your free hand. 

His cheek is just as cold and damp as his hand, perhaps the effect of dwelling inside crevices and hollows all the time. Gently, you tug him towards you and he follows, gaze flickering between your hand and your face. You lean closer as well. 

His lips are dry against yours. And you feel no breath from him. Whether it's because he's holding it in or he never breathes to begin with, you aren't sure. You don't linger for long, but something odd stirs your insides for the brief moment you spend kissing him. 

How suitable, for someone like you to be exploring love with a sinister void dweller who knows even less about it than you do. Oddly enough, you don't dislike it. 

“This lots, lots special,” you explain after you've pulled away and let go of his hand. 

He uses his now freed hand to touch his lips. A smug look is slowly overtaking his face. This arrogant little jerk. 

“Me special,” he concludes. 

“Not,” you argue. “You ask. Me show.” 

You have a bit of a staring contest between your glare and his smug grin. 

“Me want your heart,” he says finally, still with that smug look. 

“Oh, fuck you!” 

It's going to take a long time if Mr. Gap is to become anything akin to a lover.

[wrayah]

wriothesley x fem!reader

prompt: An overworked Writohesley finally accepts to get an assitant to help him around. Work begins to become smoother thanks to you, however you also make things harder for Wriothesley thanks to your innocent seductiveness. A small clothing mishap becomes the perfect moment for Writohesley to solve the throbbing problem in his pants.

notes: HERE IT IS THE (somewhat) SEX CRAZED WRIO I PROMISED YOU ALL !! can you guys tell i'm obsessed with this man ?? now please ask me for other characters i have no idea what to write now ( ;´ - `;)

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut (mdni 🔞), dom!wrio, pet names, penetration, oral, no protection, ejaculation, curse words, handcuffs, overstimulation (kinda?)

Wriothesley wasn't very fond of the idea of hiring an assistant, he could handle his work all by himself, he had been doing it for a while and could keep going that way. He simply couldn't comprehend why Sigewinne was so insistent, why she kept nagging him and telling him he should get help.

"'You really should consider it!" Sigewinne scolded Writohesley from her seat across from him, her tiny hands holding a cup of warm tea. "As the head and only nurse of the Fortress, it is my duty to take care of the people who work here, and that includes you!"

He chuckled at her puffed cheeks, she looked adorable when she was mad, and it was a challenge to take her seriously sometimes. He sipped his tea before looking at her, smiling.

"I'm okay, you don't need to worry. I don't need help-"

"Yes, you do! I can clearly see that you are extremely tired, and I have caught you working way past time lately!" She interrupted him, her tone stern but also caring. She looked at him in the eyes, dead serious. "How long has it been since you got a good night's sleep?"

His eyebags wouldn't let him lie his way out of this one, he couldn't actually remember the last time he went to bed and woke up feeling replenished. He frowned and looked down, having no answer to Sigewinne's question.

She scoffed at his reaction, closing her eyes and sipping her tea. She then placed her cup down, looked back up at him, and smiled. "Now that we've reached an agreement, I'll ask the guards to put up the flyers."

Writohesley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index. "Fine."

And that's how you got into the Fortress of Meropide as Wriothesley's assistant.

You had been working as the Duke's assistant for a few weeks now, helping him handle paperwork, running errands for him around the fortress, and on the surface, basically helping and doing everything and anything to make things a bit easier for him. It wasn't all that hard, a bit hectic but you actually enjoyed what you were doing.

Your presence had completely changed Wriothesley's routine, he was now able to finish his paperwork in time every day and got to sleep correctly again. Sigewinne had teased him continuously about how he was doing better now thanks to her idea, and he couldn't help but admit that she was right, he did need help.

On top of allowing him to get back on his feet and feel alive again, it was an actual pleasure to have you around. He was reluctant at the idea of an assistant at first, he got to know you however with time and was actually not disappointed. You were a smart and gentle individual, always ready to help and accomplish tasks with a smile on your face, even the tedious ones. Whenever you had free time, you would bring him tea along with some sweets, which he highly appreciated. This imposed a timeout on him, which wasn't actually so bad. He enjoyed chatting with you, whether it was about work or whatever else.

Everything was going well, except for one thing. Everything was great, everything you did was perfect. You were perfect.

Writohesley couldn't keep his eyes off of you at times. Generally, he thought you were beautiful, your smile melted his heart, the way your cheeks reddened whenever you stammered or were unsure softened him, and the way you dressed pleased him, especially when you wore somewhat revealing clothing- shit.

It was hard for him to keep focus on work at times because of you, but forced himself to stay put. He could handle the situation well, but it was challenging at times.

On hotter days, like today, you would wear skirts without tights, leaving your thighs exposed for Writohesley to admire. Your skin looked so soft, and the way they looked when you sat made him want to dig his fingers into them so badly.

He could handle admiring your form, it wasn't the first time he had seen a beautiful woman in his life, he just had to put in a little more effort to stay focused.

He did almost lose his mind at one point though.

He was reading a dossier, holding it with his right hand and toying with his handcuffs with the other, spinning them around. He looked up at you once he was done to give you a new order but he caught you looking intently at his handcuffs, a light blush on your cheeks. Once you noticed his gaze, your eyes darted to his and you lightly cleared your throat, cheeks brightening. Oh, the dirty things that must have been going through your mind.

Ever since then, those same dirty fantasies have invaded Writohesley's mind, making his work, as well as something else, harder. All he could think of was cuffing you up and manhandling you.

He shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. Focus, Wrio, you need to finish this by noon.

"Is everything alright, sir?" You enquired, sitting across from him also handling a report file.

He looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours. Your gaze was caring, worried, and so sweet.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, um, could you get me some iced tea, please?" He needed something to soothe him as well as the growing heat in his pants.

"Of course!" You replied, a big smile on your face. You got up immediately and turned to make your way out of his office. You accidentally bumped some files on his desk in the process though, papers falling to the ground before you.

"I'm so, so sorry! I'll-I'll gather everything!" You stammered, bending down to pick up every loose paper and file, unintentionally flashing Writohesley while doing so.

He could see everything, the back of your exposed upper thighs, your beautifully shaped ass, your laced panties-covered crotch. Oh Archons, how could he keep his composure before such a sight?

Wriothesley cleared his throat again, this time to grab your attention. You squeaked, stood up, and spun around quickly, a messy pile of papers in hand. You were expecting to be scolded for your idiocy. You gulped as you looked into his darkening eyes, his face was deadly serious. You were done for.

"Don't think that what you just did is, let's say, inappropriate?" He questioned, a slight smirk emerging. Your terrified expression turned into a confused one, which he chuckled at. You weren't even aware of what you were doing to him, how cute.

"Your skirt is quite short you know, you should have kneeled down instead." Your eyes widened, realising what had just happened. You frowned and looked down, face becoming as red as a tomato. You placed your hands behind you, covering your behind with the papers.

"I-I'm sorry! I-... I didn't intend to give such a view..." You were so embarrassed you were barely able to pronounce the last part. You sighed ashamed. You wanted to dive into the deepest parts of the sea and stay there.

Toying with you was fun. "You know, it's not the first time your clothes have bothered me. To be fair, you sometimes dress quite inappropriately for work." He took out his handcuffs and began playing with them like last time, catching your attention once again. He grinned, canines showing. "Don't you think that, as your boss, I should reprimand you?"

You bit your lip, intrusive thoughts clouding your mind. That didn't go unnoticed, it only made his smirk grow wider.

"Go on, finish cleaning your mess up." He instructed, eyeing the rest of the papers on the floor. You did as told, kneeling down this time.

He got up from his chair as you placed the paper mountain on his desk. You watched carefully as he came up behind you, you didn't dare to turn around though.

"Hands behind your back."

"H-huh?" You turned your head to look at him, his frame hovering over yours, eyeing you down.

He cocked his eyebrow. "Want me to repeat? Hands behind your back." His voice was stern, he was doing his best to hide his lust.

You did as told, and soon enough you felt the cold feeling of metal around your wrists. He had handcuffed you. You choked a little on your breath, not expecting this to happen. Your darkest fantasies were coming to life, but you couldn't let your mind get the best of you, you were already embarrassed enough.

"You see, being naughty like that isn't very nice, you've been making things hard for me lately." He placed your hands on his clothed dick as he spoke, rubbing against them. Your breathing was shaky, and his pants felt so tight against him, that you couldn't help but imagine what he was hiding underneath.

"Since you're to help me, I thought you could also help me with this." He pressed his dick against your hands once more, letting out a shaky grunt. "Will ya?"

You nodded timidly, still not believing what was happening. "Good. Come on now."

He leads you back towards his desk as if he were leading a prisoner. Being treated this way was making you feel hot and bothered, but you loved it. He put his hands on your shoulders and with slight pressure instructed you to kneel down before his chair, which he would sit on soon after. He began undoing his belt, his pants coming soon after, all the while being attentively observed by you. He chuckled as he saw your big eyes look at his shielded cock, mouth agape with impatience. He finally slid his bottoms down a little, revealing his girthy dick to you, tip slightly swollen and shimmering with precum. You bit your lip at the sight, mouth-watering. He was so close, it was so close.

His hand came to caress your cheek tenderly. "Open your mouth for me, baby. Tongue out."

You opened up, tongue sliding out. You looked up at him, waiting for his next command. His hand travelled up to your hair, grabbing a handful lightly, before tugging your head down towards his dick.

As your tongue finally met his throbbing tip, you flicked it against it, tasting him. Salty but tasty. You began licking his tip, tongue swirling around it, pressing against his slit, doing all you can to take in all of that sweet precum. Wriothesley moaned lowly above you, hand caressing your hair now, encouraging you, praising you.

"Come on, don't be shy, take me in." Your mouth wraps around his wet tip, making its way down slowly. He was thick, but there was so much saliva that you were easily able to swallow him whole on the first way down, making him curse under his breath. You began slowly bobbing your head up and down, tongue against the underside of his dick.

"That's good baby, keep going." It felt so good he couldn't help but let his head fall back, breathy moans and curses leaving his lips as he tugged on your hair, instructing you to pick up the pace. You were doing your very best to go fast, but he was so big and your mouth so small that your cheeks began to hurt and so your pace began to falter.

He looked back down at you with glazy eyes, only to be met with lustful eyes looking back up at him, your mouth around his dick, drool dripping down from it. Fuck. The sight made something snap inside of him, it made him feral.

He got up from his chair, standing up before you, making sure your mouth never left his dick. You let out surprised noises around his cock, making him groan from the vibrations. He placed both his hands on your hair, gripping it hard enough to keep your head still and thrust into your mouth. You moaned around him with each thrust, both from pleasure and from slight pain, but mostly from pleasure.

"Look at me, baby." His husky voice sent electric shocks all day down to your core, making your thighs squeeze together. You looked up at him, the mere sight of his expression being almost enough to make you cream.

You look at him, tears in the corners of your eyes, cheeks red, drool all over, was enough to send him over the edge. He buried himself deep within your mouth and, with a loud groan, his cum sprung out onto your throat and into your mouth.

"Fuck." He panted, thrusting slowly to get every single last drop of his cum out before sliding out.

He grinned as he saw your puffed-out cheeks, your mouth filled with cum. He put his hand on your chin, grabbing it gently. "Swallow. All of it."

Your eyes widened at the command yet you swallowed the thick liquid without hesitation, small tears coming up from how weird it felt when it slid down your throat. He grinned and patted your head. "Good girl."

He picked you up from the floor with ease, making you gasp. He placed you down, feet on the floor, facing his desk, your legs against it. Your hands were still bound behind you, and your wrists started to ache a bit. He pressed up against your back, hands grabbing at your hips as he nuzzled your neck, taking in your fragrance. You tilted your head to the side, giving him enough room to pamper your neck with kisses. He licked long slow strips along your veins. You moaned, your core growing warmer with every passing second.

You felt something hard poke your hands, he was still hard. Mustering up some courage, you grabbed his cock with both your hands, it fits perfectly between them. You started pumping it, long slow, and sloppy strokes. He groaned against your neck, biting down hard. You both moaned and groaned, you from his sucking and biting on your neck, him from you pumping his dick.

He suddenly pulled his hips away, freeing his length from your heavenly grip. One of his hands went to your back, pushing your upper body downward against the table. "Stay there."

"Yes, sir." You whispered, body engulfed in pleasure.

He bent down, face in front of your clothed crotch. He pressed his nose against your wet panties. Oh, you smelled intoxicating. He pulled your panties and skirt down, the cold air of the room hitting your hot pussy suddenly, making you shiver.

Writohesley licked his lips as he admired you in all of your glory, folds glistening from how excited you were. He leaned forward, placing both his hands on your thighs, and lay his tongue flat on your pussy, licking slowly up.

"Mh, you taste so fucking good." He groaned against your folds, suckling on your sensitive bud. You were becoming a mess, unable to control the sounds leaving your body as he lapped at your wet pussy. You almost screamed when his teeth grazed your clit.

He suddenly got up, spanking you with one hand as he did. "Quiet down, will ya. Do you want everyone in the Fortress to know you were being bad? Do you want everyone to know that your boss is punishing you?"

You shook your head no frantically, going to bite your lower lip in order to keep quiet, but he placed one of his hands on your mouth all the way from behind. With his other hand, he pumped his length a few times before lining it up to your entrance, his tip getting wet as he pressed against you. He pushed inside you, not letting a single second go to waste. He needed you. Your moan was muffled by his strong hand, eyes rolling back. He was filling you up so well, touching your cervix with his tip with the first push. His other hand was on the handcuffs, holding them tight to keep you in place. He pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his head inside, and then snapped his hips forward, pushing back in violently.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” He whispered into your ear. Your little screams were silenced by his hand, he repeated the same movement over and over again, until you could barely hold yourself up, your legs trembling. His low grunts and your muffled sounds filled the room along with the wet obscene sounds your cunt was making with each thrust.

His grip on your mouth and chains suddenly tightened, his pace picking up. He was practically fucking you into his desk right now, each thrust more powerful than the last. You were barely keeping yourself together, drooling into his hand, eyes barely open, cheeks flushed; you were a mess beneath him, and he loved seeing you like this. With each thrust, he stroke all the good spots, making you come undone rapidly. The feeling of your cunt clamping down on him drove him crazy, he wanted more of it, more, more. 

“Look at your tiny cunt, hugging my dick so tightly. Are you coming for me, princess?” You could only moan and groan in response, making him chuckle at your condition. He kept going, his pace never slowing down, milking your pussy of its juices. 

After the second wave of full blown pleasure washed over you, your legs began to wobble, you couldn’t keep yourself up anymore and your knees started to bend. He didn’t let you fall though, he quickly let go of your face and hands and held you up by the hips effortlessly.

“We aren’t done yet babygirl.” The side of your face rested on the desk, your mouth agape, raspy, breathy moans leaving your mouth. Your throat was dry from all the screaming, you surely wouldn’t be able to talk properly afterwards. He pounded into you rapidly, his rhythm becoming sloppier with each passing moment, he was getting close too. For someone who had instructed you to be quiet, he sure was being loud now, but neither of you cared. 

“So good, so fucking good for me.” He groaned, leaning forward, placing his forehead on your shoulder. His rapid breathing on your back sent shivers down your spine. You felt another orgasm building up, and you knew Wriothesley was close too. 

“Wrio- I’m going to…” You could barely speak, every word you uttered being followed by loud gasps.

“I know, baby, I know. Just wait a little.” He hushed you, gripping your hips with so much strength his knuckles were turning white. After a few more pushes, he was losing it, groaning loudly on your shoulder. “Come for me, y/n. Come!”

You moaned loudly, your third climax hitting you like a truck. Your walls clenched his member, that was the last straw for him. He bit down on your shoulder, moaning as he did so. His cock pushed deep inside you and stopped there. His cum came spurting out into you, the warm and thick liquid filling you up, some even dripping out of you and onto the floor. 

After a short while, his teeth finally let go of your flesh and he pulled out slowly, more cum dripping onto the floor as he did so. You opened your eyes as best as you could and looked back hazeley only to find a flushed and panting Wriothesley trying to catch his breath, still holding you up.

He then picked you up and sat you down on the desk, taking a set on his chair afterwards. You both sighed of relief, finally relaxing a bit after that experience.

He looked at you and smiled kindly, then looked at the mark on your shoulder and his smile turned upside down. “Sorry about that.”

You put your hand on your shoulder, massaging it to soothe the stinging pain. “It’s okay, it isn’t too bad.” Your smile made his worries die out. 

You started to feel a bit chilly, after all your bottoms were still on the floor. Before moving to dress yourself, a question came to your mind. You looked him in the eyes. “So, should I stop dressing the way I do from now on?”

Writohesley smirks, his head resting on his fist. “I won’t forbid you from dressing the way you want, but you must assume the consequences that will come with it.” 

At first, you blush, knowing well what he was referring to, but then you return the smile, answering with a confident tone. 

“Oh don’t worry, I will.”

© wrayah, 2024

[httpsghostie]

Beneath the Surface

Part one

Part two

A/N: First post! English isn't my first language so I'm sorry in advance if there's anything wrong with the writing.

Can't stop thinking about this man, it's unhealthy at this point

Brought you something filthy, hope you enjoy

Requests are open and appreciated!

Summary: Simon, your father's best friend, shows up in the middle of the night to give you a shoulder to put your legs head on.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: smut, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female!reader, unprotected sex (don't b silly wrap your weenie), p in v, implied age gap, choking, breeding kink (?

masterlist

NSFW below the cut

It had been an exhausting day and you felt like everything just decided to go wrong, all in one day. It started small, your sleeve getting caught in the door handle when you were cleaning the house, then it became a snowball. Accidentally hitting your foot on the corner of the bed, stumbling on the bucket and falling over it, spilling the dirty water all over the floor. At the end of the day you were overwhelmed, even the shower decided not to work properly, and you couldn't stand being near anything that could breathe. 

But there you were, endlessly trying to achieve the perfect eyeliner look because your college friends wanted to party. Failed attempts and sore eyelids lead you to a breakdown, and your attempts were soon washed away by your tears. Everything was too much and you just wanted a good night of sleep on a simple friday night. You sobbed in the bathroom as you tried to calm down, but your eyes were puffy and your face was swollen. The makeup was left on the bathroom sink and you went straight to your room to put on something more comfortable. 

Your parents weren't home, somehow when your dad was around he'd take your mom on late night dates. Simon, on the other hand, didn't have a wife or kids to come home to, and being your father's best friend, you probably saw the man even more than you saw your dad. He was almost always around when he was deployed, he had the keys to your parents house and he'd just show up. 

That wasn't exactly the best moment for him to appear in your living room when he realized the scream you let out. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare 'ya" he said. The room was lit by the TV screen and hopefully he wouldn't see your crying face. You sigh and walk to the kitchen, looking for something to eat, you end up making some popcorn and when you sneakily try to go straight back to your room, a cold hand grabs your arm. 

"Spit it out" he said. He knew you, usually you were happy and outgoing around him, and now you were just irritated and, of course, he couldn't comprehend. Your father didn't know but you were really close to Simon, he was kinda the cool uncle while your actual dad was strict and kind of annoying sometimes, Simon really made your high school years better just by being around when he could. 

"Not your business" you said, storming out. He followed your steps to your room, where you sat down on the bed and pulled a blanket over your legs, the bag of popcorn on your lap. He stood by the door frame, leaning against it, arms crossed as he eyed you. 

"Someone's grumpy" he tsked. "Come on, love, tell me what's wrong" he said as he came into the room and closed the door behind him. Something about him calling you love always caught you off guard, but now that you were in fact an adult with full knowledge of your feelings and needs, it made your stomach flip. 

"Nothing, Simon" you rolled your eyes at him as he sat in front of you on the bed. He made you a confused frown and laid a gentle hand on your knee. You could never keep things from him, his gaze burned you inside whenever he felt you were lying. "Just.. bad day, ok?" You sigh. 

"Bad day, huh?" You felt him mocking, but you couldn't care. "Elaborate." It felt so stupid to be angry because all the small things went wrong during the day, when you knew he had bigger problems to deal with in whatever army life he signed up for. 

"Everything went wrong today," you start, "I don't know, everything was either irritating me or hurting me, I even spilled the dirty water on me and the clean floor-" he cuts you off, laughing, you give him a killing stare. He holds the bridge of his nose and makes a disgusted face. 

"Have you showered?" His mood lightens you up and you chuckle, pushing him playfully. 

"Yes, I've showered." You say. "Cold shower, by the way." 

"What's wrong with the shower?" He asks and you shrug. "Aye I'll take a look at it later, 'k?" You nod. "Anything else that's bothering you?" God, it's like he could see through you. 

"I was going out with my friends," you explain shyly, "I couldn't finish my makeup and got frustrated, so I texted them saying I was sick." 

"And are you?" He tilts his head at you, you shake your head. "Why did you lie then, huh?" 

"Look I don't need a lecture on what to do, alright, Si? I just need to rest." The bag of popcorn on your lap became cold when you first took a handful to eat. 

"Want a massage?" He smirked. Of course you wanted a massage from those big, calloused hands of his that would fit perfectly around your neck. You stared at his hand and bit your lower lip, nodding. 

He gently pulled the blanket down from your legs and adjusted himself. You turned the TV on and he started to massage your feet. You let out a soft whimper as he ran his fingers against your skin, just now noticing how he shifted uncomfortably under your calves. 

Of course there was one more thing your dad didn't know: how touchy his best friend was with his daughter. You could say it was because he was a skirt chaser, or probably just touch starved, but the explanation didn't matter when his hand was traveling up your thigh under a blanket when you and your family were trying to watch a movie together. It was never more than this though, occasional touches that left you aching for him, hot and bothered. 

A movie played on the screen as he continued to massage your feet. There was something so sexual about him, the flexing muscles on his arm, his chest going up and down with his breathing, the growing bulge on his pants you could feel with your ankle and made a pool of arousal on your panties. 

Your shorts were... well, short, and he couldn't help but stare at you while you closed your eyes and imagined that monster of a man pinning you down and fucking you rough. More hums and soft whimpers escaped from your throat and they were going straight to Simon's dick. A malicious hand caressed your inner thigh and you opened your eyes with a confused, but hopeful look. He wasn't looking at you, and your stomach dropped when you saw a sex scene playing on the screen. You close your legs unsubconsciously and he looks at you. 

"'M sorry, love" he takes his hand off your thigh and chuckles. The nickname sent you over the edge, something snapping inside of you. He feels the way you shiver and how tense you seem, so he takes that bag of barely touched popcorn and places it by the bedside table and then land a warm hand on your waist. "What's on your mind, princess?" 

Well, nothing besides him naked, wasn't it obvious? But you couldn't say that, your mind was racing back and forth, and when you were unable to form a believable sentence, he caught you staring for too long. 

"Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled as his fingers traced circles on your waist. You can't remember the last time he tried doing this to you, but you know damn right you should've taken the chance to get laid, but God was it hard to understand this man. He'd tease you and pretend it was nothing, he'd leave you begging for him and say he couldn't touch you. Sometimes you just wanted to punch him for that. 

And yes, you found other ways to get satisfied. Got yourself a boyfriend during recess when neither Simon or your dad were around to pester the poor guy. But eventually they came home from wherever they were, and your father wasn't exactly happy about it, nor Simon, in fact, Simon was even more pissed than your dad. 

You couldn't say how many minutes you spent eyeing the man in front of you, but he grew impatient. The hand on your waist was gone and now spreading your legs to his liking, his body now towering over you. 

"If you don't tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours I'm gonna have to find out for myself." He said in a low, seductive voice. 

You gave in. Your hands grabbed the back of his neck and you kissed him feverly, a sloppy, wet kiss, he pressed his body onto yours and you could feel how hard he was on your lower body. But Simon was eager, he couldn't wait for it anymore, he needed to be inside of you. 

He yanked your shorts off, throwing it somewhere across the room, you also took his shirt off, revealing his perfect toned muscles and the scars that adorned it. He unbuckled his belt with one hand as the other one successfully removed your shirt. He didn't even bother taking his pants off, he just pushed them and his boxers down enough to let his dick free. He aligned it with your wet cunt, smearing your arousal all around your folds. 

"'S fucking wet already, huh?" He rubbed two fingers on your clit as he jerked himself off with his spare hand. "Can't imagine what you were thinking 'bout" he smirked. 

He put his tip on your entrance, looking at you for a sign of approval. You nod. He slowly pushed his length inside of you until it bottomed out. You clenched around him as you moaned. His body started moving faster as you adjusted to his size. He was big, you've felt it before with your hands, but you've never actually seen it. 

"Fuck, Si," you moan, "faster." You sounded like a desperate whore and he enjoyed it. You weren't exactly used to him not teasing you until you were on the verge of tears, so when he started to pound into you, you couldn't hold your moans. 

"Needy little slut." He grabbed your hips in place, almost using you like a fleshlight. He groaned, his chest rising with the heavy breathing. Fuck, that man was hot. 

His hands let go of your hips and held the back of your knees, so you were spreading even more. He watched as his dick abused your swollen and wet cunt, and he could cum just at the sight of his pretty princess getting ruined by his fat cock. You felt the cold metal on his belt hit the back of your thighs as he gave you deep thrusts. 

One of his hands traveled to your folds, his thumb drawing circles on your sensitive clit. As he was fucking your brains out, you dig your nails on his shoulders and earned a few moans along with a smirk. 

You were both really close when you heard a car park in the driveway, your eyes widened at Simon as he didn't seem to have listened to the sound of your parents getting home. 

"Fuck, Simon, my parents" you tried to push him away but his grip on you got stronger. He placed both of his hands on your neck and squeezed it. 

"Shut up" he whispered, not altering his pace. "Cum f' me, love" he demanded. Your hand rubbed your clit as he fucked you even harder. It was impossible to hold it back anymore and you reached your climax under him, your legs shaking from the overstimulation of his non-stopping thrusts. You heard the front door getting open. "'M gonna fill this pretty cunt of yours, huh? 'S that what you want?" He whispered in your ear. You could only slightly nod. "Good girl." He gave you a few more deep, shaky thrusts as he spilled his load into you and pulled out. 

"Y/n? We're home" you heard your mom shout from downstairs. Simon quickly pulled his pants up and put his shirt back on, throwing you your shorts that were across the room, tossed on the ground. He quickly got out and went to the bathroom, pretending he was fixing the shower. 

"Simon?" Your dad shouted in a worried and anxious tone, he obviously saw his friend's car in the driveway, and what was his friend doing here in the night when his daughter was alone? 

"Here" he shouted back from the bathroom, your dad ran upstairs to check if everything was alright and found Simon trying to fix the shower. 

"Everything alright? Heard noises" your dad asked. 

"Y/n gave me a call, she wanted to shower but apparently the shower wasn't working" you overheard Simon explain. He stepped out, turned it on and let the water run for a bit. "It's working now." 

You have absolutely no clue what the fuck he did with the shower in such a short period of time, but the effort was well appreciated. He tried to excuse himself out, but your dad insisted for him to stay the night. You waited in your room until your parents went to bed to get out, the back of your thighs were marked from his belt and your neck was red from his grip, not to mention the oozing cum on your thighs that your panties and shorts weren't able to hold. 

Simon was in the guest room when he heard you walk to the bathroom to get yourself cleaned, and of fucking course he wouldn't let you do it alone, he's finally got a taste of you after all these years holding back and he won't stop until he's fucking his cum inside you again as the running water muffles the sounds of how good he makes you feel.

[ddarker-dreams]

omg i love your yandere giorno series!! I was wondering if you could write a little thing where giorno witnesses his darling having a lowkey mental breakdown/epiphany because she realizes she’s in love with him? sorta like expanding on the little moments in the other fics where reader questions her feelings for him. and she just confesses to him that it’s so hard to accept what he’s done but she can’t help but love him

i'd recently been wanting to expand on the scarlet ribbons yandere bad endings and this meshes well with a christmas-y idea i had 👁👁

This time of year packs your schedule to the brim.

Being the wife of Don Giovanna comes with its unique obligations, which you once stumbled through with the naïveté of a newborn doe. Time and difficult lessons sanded away your inexperience. These trials weren't unlike those he'd undergone since ousting Diavolo, reality proving itself a stubborn foe against youthful idealism.

After what felt like ages apart, he reunites with you in the evening, where he notes some unusual behavior.

For starters, you're eerily silent. While he's no stranger to you giving him the cold shoulder, it's never without reason, like when he restricts your travel for citing security concerns. He can't recall doing anything to earn your ire. If anything, you'd been uncharacteristically amicable recently, regarding him as a collaborator rather than your warden.

Natale was almost like an armistice. You get to engage in charitable pursuits, while he oversees their seedy underbelly. Ultimately, everything is about business, image, and prestige. He doesn't insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise.

It's when you (and your conspicuous Stand) sneak a glance his way for the third time that he speaks up.

"Is something troubling you?"

He could whittle away at your defenses over an extensive campaign, but, feeling the day's exhaustion weigh him down, he opts for a direct approach. You consider him, your Stand peering over your shoulder with suspicious eyes.

"... Your meeting went long," you comment.

He nods, sensing that you're getting at something. When you refuse to elaborate, he offers to show his hand.

"There were some mild disagreements," Giorno replies. "They've been put to rest."

"If what I suggested is causing tension—"

You cut yourself off when he sits beside you on the loveseat, leaving little room between your persons. It's an unusual line for him to cross. He rarely infringes upon your physical space, owing to a courteous code of conduct that you struggled to comprehend. He thinks you want him to be terrible; a cartoonish villain that you could pour all your energy into resisting.

"I'll see it through," he reassures, the tenderness in his voice reserved solely for your ears. "I think the scholarship program is an admirable idea. The funds are there, it's simply a matter of ironing out the details."

You shuffle around. "It's not a lucrative venture."

"That's inconsequential."

"I'm sure your Capos feel otherwise."

"They can be shortsighted," Giorno argues. "And they don't have the final say — I do."

"That's..." you trail off, gnawing your bottom lip, "Why are you so...?"

Giorno, realizing that he's approaching the heart of the issue, can't let this chance go. He sees you contemplating retreat, as you cross your arms over your chest and squeeze your lips shut. If he were a fully benevolent man, he'd grant you your reprieve. Maybe he'll come to regret pushing you too far. Nonetheless, you are his vice, and even he can't always suppress his selfish yearning.

"So...?" he encourages, nearly crooning the word.

You shake your head. "I never know how to feel about you. Hating you used to come easy, now it's just... pointless. Impossible. I don't know. Sometimes, I think I might even lo—"

Aghast, you slap your hand over your mouth, cutting yourself off.

For his part, Giorno wasn't expecting such a vulnerable admission to nearly slip out. Not wanting to push his luck, he leans back, allowing you some space. You appear to be in deep thought. Your Stand has since dissipated, leaving you truly alone.

It's then that he recalls one of the final requests Bucciarati made of him:

"Please ensure her safety and happiness in my stead."

In the years that have followed, the latter has proven trickier than the former.

His hand finds yours. You jump, snapping your head in his direction, shock rippling across your countenance. He responds by giving your hand a firm squeeze. You don't reciprocate, nor do you pull away. Instead, you stare at where your bodies are joined, almost in a trance.

Giorno feels the cool band of your wedding ring flush against his skin. You made efforts in the past to be rid of it, though his Stand's ability ensured it'd always find its way back to you. He wonders at what point you decided to abandon that little rebellion.

Perhaps the revelations surfacing tonight have something to do with it.

Eventually, you exhale a shaky breath. "All this planning has me worn out. I'm not thinking straight. So please... forget I said anything."

And because he cares for you above all else, he nods, prolonging the farce you've both been cast the leads in.

[huhmiya]

MEMORIES | matt sturniolo

pairing: bf!matt x f!reader

summary: it has been a year since you passed away, and matt still hasn't been able to move on from his feelings for you but when he cleans his room, he stumbles upon a box filled with memories of you.

warning: use of y/n, upsetting for some people, crying, swearing, mention of overdosing

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. sorry about this one and I’m shit at making sad ones so lemme know

WORDS: 1.1k

huhmiya on wattpad

matt - blue | nick purple

-

The last time Matt saw you was a year ago now, when you overdosed due to the overwhelming stress in your life, feeling like it would be better to leave this world.

It pains him every time he witnesses happy couples around him, either in person or on social media, as it reminds him of the happiness he once shared with you. He longs to feel your touch again, even if it's just a hug.

His eyes always well up with tears when he thinks of you. Sometimes, he still comes across edits or photos of you, as people still associate you as his girlfriend from that time.

Each memory of you makes his heart ache more and more, knowing you're no longer here due to a senseless reason.

The idea that you overdosed because you didn't feel attractive or thought you were a bad person is something he can't comprehend, nor can others.

A tear rolls down his cheek as he reminisces about you, a small sob escaping his lips. Despite trying to appear strong by wiping away his tears and pushing away the thoughts, the pain lingers within him.

His brothers never understood why Matt couldn't move on, but they also never truly experienced the depth of love that Matt felt for you. He believed that you and him were soulmates.

Sitting alone in his room, attempting to hold back tears, Matt noticed the mess left behind from a night of gaming with his brothers.

As he surveyed the chaos, his gaze fell upon an empty soda can, a simple object that triggered memories of you, as you used to enjoy that particular drink.

A mixture of frustration and sadness overwhelmed him, leading him to groan and slap his head in an effort to suppress his emotions and prevent himself from breaking down once more.

In a moment of quiet reflection, Matt scrutinized himself, feeling foolish for being so affected by seemingly insignificant reminders of you.

These small triggers often brought him to tears, leaving him feeling vulnerable and powerless.

All that weighed heavily on his mind was the memory of the last day before you passed away. He had been recording a YouTube video and, upon finishing, he checked his phone to message you.

Instead, he found your heartfelt message expressing your love for him and bidding a final goodbye. In a rush, he drove to your place only to discover you lifeless body on the bathroom ground, having arrived too late.

"Fucking stupid, I'm- FUCK," he yelled in anguish. He often wished he could turn back time to forget filming the YouTube video that day, then potentially saving you in time.

However, he grappled with feelings of guilt for prioritizing the video over you, though deep down he knew it wasn't his fault as he was unaware of the tragedy unfolding.

The memory of your tender touch lingered in his mind – the way your lips met his in a dreamlike embrace, the security he felt in your arms, the sound of your laughter that always brought him joy.

He cherished the way you touched him, a sensation that surpassed any other. He yearned for those moments but, above all, he longed for you.

He heard a knock on the door and found his brother looking confused. As he heard his brother shout, he felt compelled to check up on him.

“Are you alright? You're crying,” Nick asked. All he had done was come to the kitchen to grab a Dr. Pepper, but he heard his brother shouting at himself.

Matt remained silent before nodding, not wanting to cry or let his voice crack. Nick simply nodded slowly and smiled gently before closing the door.

He wasn’t going to argue with Matt, especially when it was clear he was crying, even though Matt would deny it.

As time passed, Matt was on his phone. He didn’t dare go on social media, knowing he might see something that would make him cry, like a photo of you on his feed.

He then reached for his headphones and played his favorite songs from a playlist he made that wouldn't remind him of you, so he wouldn't cry.

Feeling the need to clear his mind, he started tidying up. Despite lacking motivation, he pushed himself to clear the rubbish and put things back in their place.

His knuckles bore small wounds from punching things in anger over the day you passed away. He had tried everything to save you, but the ambulance arrived too late, and you were already gone.

Glancing at his closet, he noticed a box teetering on a high shelf, out of reach due to his stature. Using a chair, he carefully retrieved it.

Upon placing the mysterious black box now on his bed, his thoughts became consumed by it, neglecting the tidying of his room.

Opening it felt like a ton of bricks, flooding him with memories that constricted his throat. He removed his headphones, allowing Kid Cudi's music to continue playing in the background faintly by how loud he has his music.

Though hesitant, he reached for a small book with his handwriting on it. It held memories of his life with you during high school, as he had stopped creating such books post graduation, yet held onto the memories of you before you died.

He began to read them, recalling the events as if they had just happened yesterday. A slight smile played on his lips as he delved deeper into the pages.

His handwriting was messy yet legible, reflecting a mix of emotions as he settled into his bed, turning the pages with care.

The small collection of books resembled a diary, filled with memories of both you and him, accompanied by numerous photos of the two of you.

Certain words struck him deeply, he had even penned down potential names for the children you both dreamt of having.

Your approval had brought him joy and he remembered it, though a hint of sadness crept in as he fought back tears, moved by the bittersweet memories.

"Please come back, y/n," a tear slid down his cheek, a yearning for your presence persisting despite knowing you had passed away in his arms a year prior.

Though he struggled to find solace in anything after your departure, he held onto the hope that you had found peace and happiness in the afterlife.

masterlist! guidelines & information! wattpad! socials!

[niceboyeds]

but daddy i love him (e.m)

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: sometimes you have to put the gossipers in their place, and sometimes you have to give them something to talk about. inspired by none other than the masterpiece that is The Tortured Poets Department!

contains: bullying, fluff, language, sexual innuendos if you squint, i think that's it but please reach out if i missed anything!

word count: 1.2K

a/n: hi babies I'm baaaack! with that said I'm rusty so please don't hurt my feelings lmao. i have an idea for a smutty pt. 2 if enough of you want it! okay here we go...

(tagging some mutuals so i don’t get lost in the blackhole: @luvmunson @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @munsonology @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @espressomunson 🫶)

masterlist

-----------------------------------

there was always something exciting about being with a bad boy. but then again, there was nothing “bad” about Edward Munson. he may get a bad rap but, aside from his lunchbox goodies, he is a gentleman before anything else. and a damn good lover. 

you sit in the diner with your friends, snickers and snide remarks could be heard all throughout the room and dozens of eyes burn into the back of your head for what felt like the millionth time. unfortunately that’s one of the prices to pay living in a small town like Hawkins.

Eddie is better than you, though, and doesn’t let it get the best of him. and while you know you could never physically fight someone, you still aren’t shy enough to threaten it. you are, to put it gently, less “reserved” with your words, and make sure to put the lonely housewives and their preppy children in their place about their assumptions of him. 

things have gotten worse as your dating life has expanded out beyond the four walls of Eddie’s quaint trailer or the few friendly drunks at the hideout once a week. you and Eddie both craved being together in public and decided long ago that you don’t care who has something to say about it. 

besides, you know who the real Edward Munson is, you don’t believe what the judgmental church-goers or ex-cheerleaders think of you. the only time it gets you is when you can see it hurting him. 

throughout lunch you keep one hand in his, feeling him tense up every so often when he hears his name come out of their mouths. 

“i wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak!” you hear from a group of your old classmates’ table followed by an eruption of laughter. 

Eddie squeezes your hand three times before letting go, scooting his chair out from the table and excusing himself to the restroom. the friends at your table all look to you for the next move, enough looks of defeat for you to end this once and for all. with a soft smile, you throw a $20 bill on the table and rise from your seat. 

“sorry guys.” you sigh, motioning for them to gather their things to leave as you push in your chair and make your way to the table across the room. Dustin trots his way to the restroom to grab Eddie as you hear Robin say your name softly, urging you to leave it be but everyone knows you can’t.

“hey guys! how are you?” you beam at your old friends, doing your best to smile at them. “Stacy, Lauren, Molly…” you exaggerate her name, informing her you heard her comment loud and clear. 

mumbles of good’s and small nods emit from them and their eyes bounce to one another nervously. “aw that’s so good to hear!” you beam, “i’m doing great too, in case you were curious. ya know, i couldn’t help but overhear you guys chatting over here and i just felt like i needed to come say hi.” their smiles drop immediately as you talk, and you let them sit in their fear of what you’ll say next. 

“yeah, you know what they say… once a bitch always a bitch, right?” silence fills the diner and you hear Max cough to cover her giggle at the door. 

“i’m sorry?” Lauren scoffs, genuinely unable to comprehend the fact that you might be putting them in their place. 

“aw, you should be. because let’s face it, it’s pretty embarrassing that we graduated years ago and you still act like this.” you look at them with pure disgust, knowing they haven’t changed in the slightest. you speak with confidence, your tone still friendly, “and to think you used to truly care for me.”

“w-we do still care for you. we just want what’s best for you.” Stacy chirps as the other two nod along with her.

“what’s best for me? pretending like you’re all some fucking saints walking around and saying you’re praying for me to ‘come to my senses’ as if i have no control over my own life? who i love is my choice, so save your prayers for yourself because you’re the most judgmental creeps i’ve ever met.”

you turn to leave, your sweet group of friends still standing by the door waiting for you, Eddie having joined them just in the heat of your argument. reaching for his hand, you crack open the door and turn one last time to their table. 

“and by the way? i’m having his baby!” their eyes widen with horror and their mouths fall agape as you follow Eddie through the door and giggle, skipping to be directly next to him.  

“woah, woah, woah?! you’re pregnant??” Steve asks, genuinely unsure as you laugh at his question. 

“no, i’m not. but oh my god did you see their faces??” 

Eddie chuckles alongside you, and you feel relieved he’s made light of the situation along with you. “yeah, not yet.”

~~~~~~~~

you sit on the couch with Eddie seated directly in front of you on the shaggy carpet. one by one you twirl his messy curls into ringlets with an unfathomable amount of hair products. you feel his once tense body relax against your knees as he twiddles with the frayed pieces of your blue jeans. 

“it’s true, y’know…” he says softly, barely above a whisper. 

“what’s that?” you ponder, curious more-so as to why his tone has saddened during your comfortable silence.

“what they all say. that you’d be better off with someone else- someone other than me..?”

“no, i don’t think they know what the hell they’re talking about.” your hands continue to work on his hair, with only a few sections left you couldn’t allow yourself to leave it be. But you continue to reassure him. 

“Eds, i don’t care that they think i shouldn’t be with you. i want to be with you. I love you. isn’t that what matters? not what all these bored-ass people think, but what we want?” 

“you… you love me?” he turns his head to face you once you drop the final curl back against his head. an ear to ear grin plastered on his face and his eyebrows wiggle. 

“of course i love you, silly. i love you more than i have the words to express.” you tell him truthfully, knowing in your heart that he is the man for you. 

“i love you too. i love you so fucking much.” 

he stands up from his crouching position, pulling you up from the couch with him. your lips instinctively crash into his. 

you interlock your fingers around his neck, trying to bring him closer to you as if you weren’t already impossibly close to him. you sloppily kiss each other before you pull away from him, a small string of saliva still connecting you to him as your lips separate. 

“eww!” you laugh, before pulling him by the hand and dragging him down the hallway to his bedroom. “come on, slow poke!”

“hey! i thought you said you weren’t having my baby.” he teased, bringing up the silly comment you had said earlier at the diner. 

“yeah, not yet.”

[jinnie-ret]

silent cry

seo changbin x female!reader

genre: descriptive angst that turns into sickeningly sweet fluff at the end

content warnings: depressive tendencies implied, dependency

word count: 1.2k

summary: she hid her thoughts and struggles to not burden her boyfriend, but he catches her in tears

requested: 🕷️anon

this may have veered off slightly off of what the original request was but I hope you still enjoy! I loved writing this one, feel rly proud of it :)

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a hard thing to navigate sometimes, emotions. Often she felt as if something was wrong with her. Why couldn't she embrace and confront those sadder, darker feelings, when the love of her life was someone who championed every little thing she did?

Changbin was smart, intuitive, and incredibly aware of how those around him felt. His empathy, pureness and generosity was something many couldn't comprehend, so it was no surprise he had many idol friends. The level of extraordinary observation he carried only increased tenfold when he was with her.

But being without him, it was a different story. To be without him, cast a darkness over the sun that was coming out of hiding, and bringing warmth to her days. To be without him, was to snuggle up into bed, alone, and wrap herself tightly in crumpled blankets to try and imagine his arms encompassing her safely as she entered a dreamlike state. To be without him, was a nightmare that rattled her bones as cries wracked through her body in the early hours of the morning.

To be without him, was to live a life where she couldn't be.

Some may say it's dramatic. How could someone solely depend on another so much that they felt as if they had lost a part of them when they were not together? The answer wasn't simple. Anyone could have their own interpretation of the situation, but what really mattered was the way that their souls had intertwined and formed a love so strong and unbreakable.

That love would stretch a lot of the time. The distance that existed when she was apart from Changbin taunted her, tugging her heart towards where it belonged. Yes, maybe her heart didn't belong in a Stray Kids fanmeeting, or a tour around the world, but it was meant to be with him. Changbin knew it too. He just didn't know the extent of how bad things were getting because his partner had mastered the skill of presenting a facade through texts, video calls... you name it.

There were other things going on in her life, there always were, and he had helped her understand what was happening and how she could healthily support herself. She was struggling to wrap her brain around everything however, when she didn't have her lifeline next to her. Instead, she was holed up in their shared bedroom, aimlessly scrolling through her phone in attempt to divert and distract her mind. So much so, that when Changbin had arrived home early to surprise her, she didn't really believe it.

Perhaps it was a fever dream?

"Hey honey," Changbin cooed gently as he entered the dark room, weakly lit by the brightness of her phone and the dying bulb of the salt lamp they had. Damn, he needed to replace that soon. There were other things he needed to worry over first though.

She didn't respond. Her spiraling that had occured with his absence was clear to see. Curtains and blinds shut. Dirty dishes. Clothes strewn across the floor where, hey, at least she had been able to change into something different.

"Jagi?" Changbin whispered lightly, now crouched down next to her by the bed as he knelt on the floor, not quite touching her yet as he didn't want to overwhelm her. He was good like that, knowing exactly how she worked.

Again, no response. In truth, she felt that tug on her heart and knew he was there, but something within her, like a subconscious turning of cogs, fueled a robotic motion of continuing to fixate onto her phone.

"I'm here now," Changbin whispered, thick fingers delicately smoothing across her knee as he waited patiently for her to be ready.

And just like that, her phone was now beside her as she gazed ahead of her, no eye contact made yet but the twitches of her thumbs without nothing to hold, and the way her lips pursed together to stop anything from escaping her gave away some telltale signs to Changbin that she really had been going through it.

"That's it, I'm here," Changbin's deep, husky voice unleashed the floodgates as tears streamed down her face, chest stuttering with it's normal rhythm as she refused to let any sobs echo between the walls. His hands connected with hers, squeezing gently.

"I hate how much I miss you," she attempted to whisper, but with the lump in her throat rising the turmoil she had been facing revealed itself.

"Oh honey," Changbin felt himself tearing up but he calmed himself in order to remain stable for her. That's just what he was. A reliable pillar for her weight to rest against as he pulled her against him, joining her in bed and cradling her tenderly.

"I don't know why-" she cried, hands resting at his lower back and she desperately clutched onto him, squeezing the soft fabric of his black hoodie to tell herself he was here. She was safe. She was ok. And with him, all of the stress would alleviate and float away. With him, the fogginess that clouded her judgement would leave. With him, her silent cries that were cruelly locked away, could be unleashed and heard.

"I've got you, it's ok, I'm with you, and I'm here now, ok?" Changbin's lips pressed a kiss into her hairline, as he relished this moment of having her with him too.

"I wish I wasn't like this. I just... I need you. Always. Some days it's just harder," she sniffled, bravely shifting into his arms to climb over the walls she had built around her and finally stare into his eyes. The very ones that made her putty.

"Those days will get better. When you let go, when you can let everything out, it feels better, right?" Changbin rested his head against her, searching, scanning for anything she'd try to hide. He found comfort that there were no signs of caged thoughts being left unsaid.

"It does. You're right. You always are," she nodded ever so slightly, as not to break this close intimacy she was receiving, what she had craved for these past two weeks.

"Mm, aren't you lucky?" Changbin smirked but without any trace of joking or performative arrogance.

"I am, I'm so lucky. Sometimes it doesn't feel real that you're here with me, because I can't even comprehend that, like... That I'm with you," she said with utmost sincerity lacing her words.

"Aigoo, this is why I like to hear what's on your mind. My honey is so good with her words," Changbin chuckled, nuzzling his nose against hers, smiling brightly when he heard a giggle that came straight after his.

"I'm not," she protested, looking down.

"No, don't do that, I need your pretty eyes in my sights," he tilted her head up.

"Gonna cost you," she joked. There it was, the warmth was back. The light was back, despite the cave like lighting in the room. He could so easily bring out that side of her, and help her to forget about her struggles and simply exist around him, being her true authentic self. He helped her to be.

"Yah! I shouldn't have to pay!"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kailee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria

[icarusredwings]

Letters.

Tw: General warning about phycosis and bad mental health.

Thinking about Wade becoming conscious sometimes out of his manic/phycosis episodes and scribbling down everything, he wants to tell who he's with before he's gone again.

It starts off as a letter, adressing them, telling them his feelings, explaining complex things that he cant comprehend in this state, how much he loves them, and then it goes down hill to apologizing for being a burden, the end of the page scribbles in more and more pressurized versions of "Im sorry Im sorry Im sorRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY

I'M SORRY

I'M SORRY

I'M SORRY

IM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRY with tear drops smudging some of the words. And then when you ask him about it, he doesn't remember even writing it.

People always ask Vanessa why she stays with Wade. Why or how she could put up with him for so long. And the truth is, his good days? He's a great person. He's a good man, Savanna. And an amazing lover.

One day, Logan finds one of the letters on the counter, a lot of words scribbled out but it, in short, says

"Logan,

I know I'm a pain in the ass a lot of work but I love you please don't give up on me

But its the bad days that pile up, become endless. That's what breaks her. She can only help so much. And it breaks her heart to think about ever truely giving him up.

I'm loosing my mind trying really hard. Wade."

She's explained this to Logan, bringing him to her dresser and pulling out a shoe box full of papers, notes, letters.

Every single one of them is from Wade. Ranging from love letters that are multiple pages long, sticky note with hearts and a doodle of stick figures banging doggy style with "Happy hump day!" on it, and uncoherent smuged and half scribbled out notes from his bad days telling her how badly he wants the voices to stop. To leave him alone. Telling her that she should leave him. "You can do better. You DESERVE better." The words say.

"Vanessa,

I know you need me here with you, but I'm losing myself, and I'm afraid you're gonna lose me too. These powers keep me alive, but they're making me crazy. And I need to save you, but who's going to save me?

Please forgive me for whatever I do

When I don't remember you.."

"Is that?... That show with the strenchy dog?"

She nods, taking it back and carefully putting it back into the box. ".. That was one of the first letters I ever gotten like this.. he thought the cancer would take his ability to remember me. So.. he wrote me that."

"So what do I do?"

"What do you mean? There's nothing much you can do.. but according to this? Don't give up. If you want too.. I used to write back but.. sometimes he didn't awnser again. Still though... He said he's trying.."

[oppopotamus]

Imagine sub!top!reader visiting dom!bottom!geto about a cursed spirit and Geto says the only way to cure it is a night with him but little does the reader know it goes beyond one night. 😶

More than one night

geto suguru x sub top male reader

this was so fun to write ohmygodddd thank you for this req.. im sorry it took so long anon

hes a bit ooc at the start but its gets better towards the end i promise

Warning: NSFW

"Ugh.. Hello?" You say groggily, answering the phone call that you received.

"(Name), I need you to come over. Now." The voice on the other end of the call says.

"Huh, who is this?"

"It's Suguru, I need you to come over to my place right now.. It's about a cursed spirit."

"Ugh, I'll be over soon then." You hang up the phone before he can respond and get up, checking the time you realise that it's in the early hours of the morning.

You get up from your bed and put on your clothes, quickly rushing out the door and getting in your car to drive to Geto's home.

You receive a text on your way to his house, you know it's bad to text and drive but it could be important so you discreetly open it whilst keeping your eyes on the road. You're an experienced driver, no way you'd crash.

You're more confident than Gojo sometimes.

The text reads, I figured out how to get rid of the curse, then not even a minute later saying, I'm going to need your help with this. It's really important, then another messaging saying, sorry, (Name).

You're starting to get worried as to what's going on, Suguru is pretty strong so why is he asking for your help? You're strong sure but not on his level.

Finally arriving at his place you leave your car and head to his door and knock, once, twice, and then the door slams open to reveal Geto looking.. Disheveled.

"Hey uh are you alright? You don't look too good. And where's this-" Before you can even finish your sentence, Suguru drags you in by your shirt and slams the door shut behind you.

"I need your help to get rid of this curse." Geto looks up at you not saying anything more.

"Okay sure but maybe you should tell me where exactly it is so I can-" Once again he cuts you off saying, "The curse is inside me and the only way to get rid of it is for you to sleep with me."

He says it so fast you can barely even comprehend what he just said.. Did he just say you need to sleep with him to get rid of a curse thats INSIDE of him?

You stand there dumbfounded for a few moments while he looks up at you nervously. This isn't like him at all, something must be seriously wrong because he has never acted like this before.

"Oh well okay I guess." You simply shrug as he looks at you shocked.

"That's it? Seriously?"

"If that's what it takes to get rid of the curse then sure.. I mean you're my friend I'd do anything for you."

He looks away at the mention of friend.

"But how did you know that we have to have sex for the curse to go away and I don't really sense any curse to be honest."

You feel a bit dumb at the fact you can't sense anything. Jujutsu sorcerers should always be able to sense curses and if Geto can apparently sense it then there must be something wrong with you!

I mean Geto would never lie about a cursed spirit.. Right?

"I just know alright. Now can we just not talk about it and just do.. it?" You're a bit confused but just shrug and agree and so, you lean closer to him.

"Where do you want me?" You ask, he smirks at you before saying, "On your knees."

Now that's more like the Geto you know. He's always in control. You love how hot he looks when he's in charge so you obey and get on your knees in front of him whilst never once taking your eyes off of him.

"Good boy." Suguru whispers quietly, making you shiver at his cool words.

You open your mouth to say something before he interrupts you saying, "Go ahead." Hey, did he read your mind or something? Also why does he keep interrupting you!?

You grumble a bit at the continuous interruptions but since he's given you permission, you trail your hands up to his waist where his pants lay on his hips and slowly drag them down along with his underwear so they pool at his ankles.

He lifts his legs up to take them off then kicks them away to somewhere else in the room.

While looking up into his eyes, waiting for any sign of disapproval which you never get, you take his half-hard cock into your hands and just slowly trace your fingers along it while coming in close and peppering the softest kisses onto his cock as though you were lovers who were infatuated with each other.

His breath catches in his throat as your tongue leaves your mouth and you drag it up to the tip of his cock where you grab his cock and rub the tip all over your tongue.

You smirk up at him as you do, tapping his cocking against your tongue in an almost teasing manner.

"No teasing." He says commandingly. You want to disobey, but you don't. Instead you swallow and then take the first half of his cock into your mouth, dragging your mouth up and down as though you were an expert at giving head.

Eventually you work your way further down his cock, taking his small gasps and moans as a sign of approval to keep going.

You reach the base of his dick and choke so you immediately pull off of his cock and cough, trying to gather more air into your lungs.

"Ah, you're doing so well for me.. Just a little more." You look up at him, going back to working your way down his cock and eventually when you get to the base again you attempt to pull back before his hand reaches down and holds your head in place.

You tear up and gag on his dick attempting to pull your head back even more. Even slapping your hands on his thighs and trying to push his legs back to no avail.

Though eventually he lets your head go again and you cough and gasp for air. Small tears form in your eyes but they don't dare fall.

"Sorry, love but it just felt so good. I won't do it again, I promise."

You just nod in response.

Geto moves and turns around walking over to the living room where the couch is seated and sits down on it. He beckons you to follow him and so you do, getting up with slightly wobbly legs, those will surely bruise tomorrow, and you stand in front of him.

"Take off your clothes." You comply, it's hard to disobey when he speaks in such a tone.

You quickly strip off your clothes until you're bare in front of him. Your cock standing at full attention. It's bigger than Geto ever imagined.

Suguru, still with only his shirt on, tells you to sit beside him as he lays down on his back and spreads his legs.

You gulp at the sight and turn so you're both laying missionary-style, you kneeling between his legs with your hands on his waist. Was his waist always this small?

You patiently wait for his order and let your eyes rake over his body. Suddenly he wraps his legs around your waist and pulls you in closer by the waist which makes you lose your balance so you position your arms so your forearms are each laying on the sides of his head. Your faces are merely inches apart.

Your face gets red at the close proximity, now you're embarrassed?

You have no idea what to do. Just continue waiting for his command, for his order, for his instructions.

"I'm already prepped just.. Go on and put it in." He says reaching his arms up to wrap them around your neck.

You are trying so hard to kiss him but you're not lovers. You're just helping a friend out. Friends don't kiss or anything like that. This is a one time thing, that's it, then you'll both go back to being buddies.

You shake your head out of your thoughts before saying, "Are you sure you don't need to be prepped again.. It might hurt."

He chuckled at your cautiousness.

"Do not worry the uh.. Curse nullifies the pain."

You're a little suspicious at this so-called curse. You have no idea how fucking him will change anything but you just go along with it.

"If you're sure then.." You comply and bring one hand down to your cock, aligning it with his hole and ever so slowly press in.

"You don't need to be so.. ngh.. gentle." He says looking up at you.

You feel nervous and just nod pressing all the way in and bringing your arm back to lie next to his head.

You both groan at the feeling.

You sit up a little so you can see him better and slowly begin thrusting in and out. He told you not to be gentle but you can't help it, you don't want to hurt him!

Eventually though you do start to speed up to which both of your moans get louder and louder.

Geto's nails claw at the back of your neck and you grunt at the tightness of his hole.

You bring yourself back down to bring your mouth to his neck and plant a kiss there before muttering a sorry and then biting down on his neck.

Suguru shouts at the bite you left. It bleeds down his neck as you plant another kiss onto it muttering another sorry.

You look almost like a sad puppy in the way you apologize.

"Haah.. Do it, again.. Please." You're slightly shocked at how even through the pain he still wants you to bite him more and at the fact that you're surprised he can even talk with how hard you're fucking him at this point.

Though you bite him again, and again, and again, 'till he has bite marks all over his neck. Red seeping over his throat and down his chest bleeding onto his white shirt. Yeah, that's definitely not going to come out.

You suddenly groan out, you can feel yourself getting even closer but judging by Suguru's look he's even closer.

You bring one hand down to his cock and stroke it.

"Too much!" He shouts but you keep going until cum spurts out of his cock and all over his shirt. Yeah, that shirt is most definitely ruined now.

Seeing how his pretty face contorts and his eyebrows knit together when he cums makes you feel hot and you nearly cum on the spot just seeing the way he looks when he ejaculates.

You let go of his cock and keep thrusting, nearing your orgasm.

Geto writhes beneath you, not even being able to speak at this point with how overstimulated he is.

So, before he gets even more overstimulated you pull out and jerk yourself off until you spill your own cum onto his shirt.

Yeah, that shirt needs to be burnt at this point.

You both sit there, panting for a moment.

"Is the curse gone now?" You say. "Oh yes uhm yes definitely." Geto responds.

You're extremely suspicious and never felt the presence of a cursed spirit so you ask, "Was there ever even a cursed spirit?"

Suguru turns slightly red at the question and looks at you trying to feign innocence before responding saying, "No, there wasn't."

"Hah! I knew it. This was just a ploy to have sex with me wasn't it? You could've just asked y'know."

Geto just laughs in response before shaking his head and moving to sit up, you start laughing with him, you both sit there for a moment, looking at each other just giggling like children.

Maybe this won't be just a one time thing after all..

[starlost97]

— last.

summary: You and Arthur were exactly like each other. And as much as this could be good, it was also a problem. (based on the song "cowboy like me" by Taylor Swift)

tags: fluff, personal favorite, Arthur Leclerc is a player, Reader is a player, based on a Taylor Swift song, f!reader.

characters: Arthur Leclerc.

warnings: none.

a/n: i'm actually SO proud of this one. like really proud.

word count: 650.

requested?: yes! by a friend.

People said that you and Arthur were the perfect match. Two people with a terrible reputation, never going to their own home after night outs and neverending dating rumors.

However, people didn’t understand it. How could you trust someone so similar to you? You knew very well how untrustworthy you were when it came to love. Always giving out a fake number, leaving before they wake up and not saying anything too personal.

Arthur was exactly like that. Just like you.

But there was something different about him. About his kiss. Sometimes slow, but sometimes so passionate. So torturous but so addicting. You couldn’t get enough of it, and Arthur wished that he couldn’t say the same.

The ghost of your lips on his, the memory of your warmth against his body and the feeling of having you in his arms was something that didn’t stop haunting him since your first night together.

It wasn’t something that he could explain. Not one of his friends could comprehend the effect that you had on Arthur. He knew very well how bad it could go. How you could destroy him.

But as in the myth of Icarus, he couldn’t help but go directly into the sun. The beauty of freedom to him, and the temptation of diving into true love to Arthur.

And if he did fall, it would be in love. He just didn’t know if he would end up in hell.

But hell wouldn't sound so lovely.

As your voice echoed around the room and that heavenly voice brought butterflies to his stomach, he smiled. He could never get used to it. To listening to your voice. To being with you. To you.

“But I said, ‘Dancing is a dangerous game’.”

Arthur’s smile turned into a smirk as he remembered the countless nights they spent dancing. Not only in parties, events, but also alone in each other’s places, being illuminated only by the street lights that invaded their apartments.

God, he loved having his hands on you. Guiding your body to the rhythm of the song and feeling your smile against his lips when he squeezed her waist.

It drove him crazy. Everything about you was maddening. How could you be so perfect? So tempting? So addicting?

Self-preservation left his body and it seemed like it was never there. Vulnerability never gave him comfort, but there was something so erotic about being exposed to you. To someone who could do anything to him, from destroying to making him the happiest man alive. God, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter.

Your beauty was enough to make him want to watch you do anything. He would’ve loved to be destroyed by you, watch as your pretty little mind created the most perfect of plans to manipulate him.

You for sure had what was necessary to do it. He was completely — and happily — vulnerable.

“Now you hang from my lips,” You sang, looking Arthur in the eyes. “like the Gardens of Babylon.”

Uncertainty. He wanted to take that away from you, but still, there was something beautiful about choosing to trust. All the stakes were against him, but yet, the overwhelming passion was enough to make you vulnerable to him. And that was very much an honor to him.

He was honored to have you entirely.

When you finished the song, Arthur waited for you to come to him, as you always did after the shows. He watched as your figure became clearer, and how the long green dress complimented your skin.

You smiled at him, and that alone could’ve killed him.

“I couldn’t have expressed us in any better way, darling.” He said, pulling you into his lap and looking into your eyes. “You’re my only true love, and also my last.”

You were the only experience of true love that Arthur ever had, and he’ll keep it that way.

[sootmemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS: LYRICS THAT HIT ME IN THE FEELS [PT. 2] change words as needed ! ctrl + shift + v to paste into the inbox on desktop.

❝ vengeance is the only drug, and I can't get enough. ❞

❝ I don't know euphoria; would like to meet her someday. ❞

❝ now I'm just covered in the dirty blood of man. ❞

❝ I'd talk myself down if I knew what to say. ❞

❝ nobody tells you 'til you go up in flames that you can't live like a devil and die like a saint. ❞

❝ well, the trick of the trouble is avoiding the blame. ❞

❝ I'm alive, I'm revived, I survived, you surprised ? ❞

❝ if this was meant for me, why does it hurt so much ? ❞

❝ let me tell you from a dead mans point of view: live your life, because when its done you don't get another one. when they sing for you don't let them sing the blues. ❞

❝ what they don't understand, they condemn. what they can't comprehend must meet its end. ❞

❝ sometimes I feel like I'm a mockingbird, mimicking the songs that I've already heard. ❞

❝ nurse, sinner, virgin, bitch... I am the vengeful child of the witch. ❞

❝ you played my game. hell, now you're a piece in it. ❞

❝ but then if you're so smart tell me, why are you still so afraid ? ❞

❝ slow down, you're doing fine. you can't be everything you want to be before your time. ❞

❝ though you can see when you're wrong, you know you can't always see when you're right. ❞

❝ you got your passion, you got your pride, but don't you know that only fools are satisfied ?❞

❝ crazy is, I believe, the medical term for when we want to recover but don't want to learn. ❞

❝ if we want to wake up, why are we still singing these lullabies ? ❞

❝ its so convenient to lose the truth when its laughing in your face ❞

❝ I'm still living in a knife fight, living like a bad guy ❞

❝ no point in stressing, we're not impressing them anymore ❞

❝ cardboard is boring, look how it burns ❞

❝ I keep lighting little fires to feel something, to get burned ❞

❝ life cuts deep; let me help pick up the pieces ❞

❝ you know I hate to say it, but, "I told you so" ❞

❝ if you were easy to kill, I would have done it already. ❞

❝ if I was easy to kill, you would have done it already. ❞

❝ I used to dread the thought of falling quickly. ❞

❝ there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow, and I play it on repeat. ❞

❝ nights were mainly made for sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day. ❞

❝ I'm a scholar and gentleman, and I usually don't fall when I try to stand. ❞

❝ all the daises that you picked are dead; you're better off just picking fights instead. ❞

❝ turn the page, look back at what you wrote; do you still feel the same ? I bet your mind has changed. ❞

❝ we're all gonna die we just don't know when; lets make the most of the time that we got left. ❞

❝ worlds on fire, lets toast the end. ❞

❝ I wanna scream into the night: I'm alive, I'm alive ! ❞

❝ it shouldn't be surprising how we're living like we're dying. ❞

part two to this meme. also here is a playlist based on these prompts ♡

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

on the topic of disability, sometimes when Im talking to other disabled people about disability rights and so on, I get this dreadful feeling that's like 'oh, they really do not know how bad it is, huh'. It's one thing to struggle for access to proper diagnosis and medical aid when you *are able to self advocate*, but as soon as some of you come across a person who cannot self advocate, you stop understanding.

my brother has autism, like me. he has ADHD, like me. he cannot write, cannot speak (he is not mute, but he cannot put words together), and needs care 24/7 from experts.

I have had conversations with other disabled people who have called my parents monsters for 'sending him off to be the government's problem' (in reality, he lives in a shared care house with 24 hour professional care, and my parents visit him weekly).

I have had conversations with other disabled people who were shocked that abuse happened at his past care home, and asked 'why don't you just live with him at home?' somehow ignoring the fact that he is a 6 foot tall, physically imposing 25 year old with very few ways to communicate that he is upset beyond physically lashing out.

I have had other disabled people come to me, confused, when I have described how yes, my brother physically attacked me when we were children and gave my parents lasting injuries, but I have never blamed him because he never had another way to express himself, he was on a cocktail of drugs, and he does not have the social reasoning skills to do something like that out of malice. I have had people tell me I am in denial for this truth, and I'm sure some of you will try to tell me the same.

when I talk about disability activism, I don't just mean wheelchair-accessible spaces, better treatment from doctors, and cheaper, easier healthcare. I mean more care facilities funded by the government. I mean more training for staff working with people who have complex disabilities. I mean advocacy and care for people who cannot, and will never, be able to write a plea for help, or voice their opinions in parliament, or ask to go to the toilet.

my brother is one of my favourite people. he has a personality - likes and dislikes, funny expressions and quirks, a silly smile whenever he's up to no good - he understands certain things, but we will never truly know what exactly he can and cant comprehend. he deserves someone on his side. he deserves the same advocacy other disabled people get from our allies.

if you stop caring about disabled people as soon as they stop being a 'full' person in your eyes, you do not care about disabled people.