#Yeah idk strange sensation.

[doppelnatur]

When does something stop being a stim and start becoming a tick?

Like it's probably still stimming but it occasionally feels so. Mmm physical and out of control?

[sceletaflores]

it’s the easiest thing (just love me and eat me)

pair: logan howlett x mutant!fem!reader

wc: 6.1k

anon says: nat pls speak on sub!logan...people are hating on the sub!logan agenda and someone needs to show them that they're wrong and it can be done cuz if anyone can convince them it's you mommy!

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, crimson! again! she's back!, slight angst, swearing, violence, light gore, somewhat dark content, religious symbolism? (idk this one got weird babes), established relationship, lowkey a toxic relationship but you didn't hear that from me, sub!logan-ish, handjob, p in v, slow sex turned rough, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, pain kink, scent kink, blood play, blood...eating (drinking? idk), porn with a tiny bit of plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: anon i'm so sorry this took me so long...i hope it was worth the wait! it started as a short smutty drabble that somehow turned into…this? idk it got out of hand so fast. i am a proud member of the sub!logan nation but that's mostly because i think that ALL men have the potential for sub vibes like doesn't matter who he is if i want to fuck him he's probably a little subby. special shout out to my baby boo and fellow sub!logan truther @avocado-writing <3 tysm for sharing anon! xoxo mwah.

dividers by icon @saradika-graphics!

psst! want more logan and crimson? here's the to the bone au masterlist!

it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…

The team had a big scare earlier in the day.

It was supposed to be an easy mission, bust a mutant trafficking ring in Albany. You do assignments like these every week, and as sick as it sounds, it’s almost routine.

But this one was different. It was an ambush, and you were compromised.

Only humans, but they were smart. Waited until the team split up to attack. They had tech, things you'd never seen before.

Big guns loaded with tiny darts full of an ominous red liquid.

It was your fault really. You didn't clear your surroundings, so focused on getting to the kids that you let yourself get sloppy.

The tiny sting in your back barely registered, you don't think you would have even noticed if it didn't kick in so fast.

You'd never felt anything like it before in your life.

It didn't hurt. The rush of pain you braced yourself for never coming.

The sensation was strange—like your body was shutting down, piece by piece. You fell to your knees, shaky legs folding under you in less than a second.

You felt empty, wrong. An eerie silence trickling in to fill your insides.

Panic bubbled beneath your skin, but you were too numb to feel it. Trapped in the mounting weight of your limbs, the slow blink of your eyes, the shortness of breath despite hardly moving.

Your hand slipped across the gritty cement, reaching for support that wasn't there.

That was when you saw it, the shock of it was enough for your heart to drop. Your skin, blanched and sallow, the veins in your arms black and spreading like spilled ink.

You tried to fight it, tried to will your body to move, to react, to do something. You had to get up. You had to. The kids.

As hard as you willed yourself, there was nothing. It was like your body wasn't your own, like it had become something completely foreign.

You could barely make out the tiny voices calling for you. Pleading, frantic yelps of your name fading into a dull hum as everything went hazy. The edges of your vision blurring into a narrow tunnel.

He stepped in front of you, the same one who shot you. A cynical grin on his face and collar in his hand. You'd seen collars like it before, used on mutants to muzzle their abilities, to weaken them.

You tried, fingers barely twitching by your. Nothing. Just another shock of that cold, unfamiliar feeling shooting through your body.

“Got a big one, boss.” The man boasted into a comm strapped to his wrist, his voice sharp and grating. He took a single step towards you, smug grin still stretched across his face. “Yeah, real nice lookin' one too. She'll sell for—“

A muddy roar pulsed through the molasses filled haze of your ears, six claws flying through the air to embed themselves on either side of the man's skull with a wet, stomach-churning sound.

The collar dropped from his slackened grip with a dull bang, shattering into different pieces that slid across the floor haphazardly. A mess of wires and metal.

There were rushed footsteps before he dropped to his knees in front of you, his torso bathed in a dull glow from the overhead lights yellow shine.

There was blood splattered across the side of his face, slicking the front of his suit enough to reflect light off the leather.

Logan, perched in front of you like an angel.

Not one with a golden halo and a harp, but a indescribable mess of eyes and wings looming over you calling 'be not afraid'.

You'd never seen him so shaken before. All wide-eyed and pale as he checked you over for any major injuries. His breath coming in short bursts, hands frantic and shaky as they skated along your body for the viscosity of blood or uneven shift of a break.

He refused to let you even try and walk on your own, swept you off the floor and cradled your trembling body to his chest as he called for help. The beat of his heart was fast beneath your cheek, strong enough that you could feel it even through the thick leather of his suit.

You buried your face deeper in the crook of his neck, the pit in your stomach barely warmed by the feel of him. His scent is strongest there, so much so that in a room full of spilled blood, you could only smell him.

He was careless stepping over clawed up bodies littering the floor like a messy maze of twitching limbs and entrails. You didn't even know there was more than one guard in the room.

The evidence of his love for you, of his devotion, oozing red on the concrete.

Logan didn't even give the carnage a sideways glance as he raced you outside, back to the jet.

Trusting Scott and Jean to take over getting the kids out. The unsteady murmurs he pressed to the top of your head the last thing you heard before there was nothing.

You woke up six hours later.

The sterile hum of medical equipment was the first thing you heard. The sharp scent of antiseptic filled your nostrils, and the faint pressure of a needle in your arm confirmed that you were hooked up to an IV. 

Your muscles felt heavy, like someone had filled them with lead. But you were alive.

You could feel your body working overtime, fixing itself. The sickening shift of your insides falling back into place. 

It took a few more moments for you to realize you weren’t alone.

A low, familiar rumble caught your attention. You turned your head to see Logan slumped in a chair by the bedside, his face buried in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His hair was mussed, his usually sharp features softened by exhaustion. 

He looked different, smaller, as though the weight of what happened was pressing down on him, making him fold in on himself.

You’d seen him bloody, beaten, on the verge of death, but you’d never seen him like this–completely and utterly human.

Your throat was too dry to speak, but a small sound escaped you, and Logan's head snapped up. His eyes met yours, and in a heartbeat, he was at your side, his large hands hovering over you, unsure where to touch, like he was afraid you’d shatter under his fingers.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. His voice was hoarse, cracked with a mixture of relief and something else, something deeper. His eyes darted over your face, your arms, as if memorizing every detail just to make sure you were real.

“I'm sorry,” you managed, your voice barely more than a rasp.

Logan's eyebrows furrowed, the lines in his forehead deepening. "What the hell are you apologizing for?" His voice was gruff, but there was a tenderness beneath it. A gentleness he only reserved for you.

Your lips cracked into a weak smile. "It was my fault. I messed up."

A growl rumbled low in his chest, and you could feel the anger simmering just beneath his skin, not at you but at the situation, at whoever had dared to hurt you.

“Don’t,” he said, voice like gravel. “Don't start, none of this is on you.” His voice softened slightly as he leaned closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. “What matters is you’re here.”

The reassurance wrapped around you like a warm blanket, grounding you.

Logan’s thumb traced the line of your jaw, his touch sending a spark of warmth through your veins. “When I saw you on the floor like that…I thought—” He shook his head, jaw clenched as he forced himself to meet your gaze again. “I thought I lost you.”

Your fingers twitched slightly, managing to catch his wrist, squeezing it with what little strength you had. “I’m right here,” you said softly, voice clearer than before. “I’m okay.”

Logan’s gaze softened again as he looked down at your hand, his rough exterior cracking just a little more. He gently pried your fingers from his wrist and pressed your hand to his chest, right over his heart. “You scared the hell outta me, you know that?”

You tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a breathless huff. “Didn’t mean to.”

He shook his head, but there was a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You never do.”

You were fine an hour later. 

The color of your skin had returned, glossy and like new. The hollow emptiness inside of you long gone. Your abilities passed every test Charles threw your way with flying colors.

Fully recovered and finally excused from the med-bay after Hank and Jean checked you over one last time, you were given your strict marching orders in the form of extra fluids and bed rest, no matter how much you argued that you were fine.

Your health was the last thing on your mind, just a distant phantom ache each time your eyes would find Logan.

He was still shaken up, even after all the reassurance from Charles and Hank. He kept close the rest of the day, hovering, his presence more protective than usual, but he didn’t talk much.

You could see it in the way he moved, slower, less sure, like he was carrying around something too heavy to shake off. It lingered in the tight set of his jaw, the way his hands flexed as though still looking for something to fight, to protect you from.

It wasn’t hard to guess what it was. 

You hated seeing him like this, burdened by a guilt he didn’t deserve. 

It gnawed at you, that heaviness. The way he started to shut down, to close himself off in the face of fear. It was the only way he knew how to cope.

After seeing him like that, bed rest was the last thing on your mind.

You knew Logan. Knew what he needed when his thoughts got tangled up like this, dragging him under. He wasn't the type to sit and talk through it, not easily anyway. 

And even though you know he’d never ask for it himself, you knew what he needed—to be reminded, physically, that you were still here, still his.

Later that night, when the mansion had quieted and the others were tucked away in their rooms, you found him exactly where you thought you’d find him—in the room you shared, sitting on the edge of the bed. The yellow light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows across his face, the tension in his jaw still there.

A frown tugged the corners of your mouth as you moved towards him, catching his attention with the rustle of the sheets as you sat next to him.

“Logan,” you say softly, breaking the stillness. He doesn't respond, only the slightest twitch in his shoulders indicating he even heard you. “Hey,” you try again, your voice a little firmer this time.

He turns his head just enough for you to catch the edge of his profile, the crease between his brows, weariness etched into his features.

But he still doesn't speak.

You shift, moving closer until your fingers brush his arm, the heat of his skin radiating through the fabric of his shirt. “Look at me,” you whisper, and finally, his gaze lifts to meet yours, guarded and pained. “I’m fine. I’m right here.”

Logan shakes his head, bringing a hand up to run it through his already messy hair. “You could’ve died,” he bites out, tone rough and low. “We should've never fuckin' split up. I should’ve been there faster, sooner. I should’ve–”

“Logan.” Your voice cut through his, sharper than you meant it to. You catch his hand in yours, thumb brushing against the pulse point of his wrist. “You saved me, I’m not going anywhere. I need you to hear that.”

He meets your gaze then, eyes dark with something vulnerable, something raw. He nods weakly, like he only half-believes it. You can still see the hesitation swirling through his eyes, the reluctance in the stiffness of his muscles against yours.

He needs something more than words, something to bring him back to you.

With that, you move to straddle his lap, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs. His body stiffens under yours, his breath hitching slightly as his hands fall to your waist almost instinctively.

“Hold on,” Logan starts, tone hesitant and hands light as they hover over your hips like he’s still scared to touch you. “You heard what Hank said–”

“I’m fine,” you repeat, finality lacing your tone and leaving no room for argument. You reach down, taking his hand in yours and bringing it up to press flat directly over your heart. The very same way he did your first night together. "Can you feel me?”

The question hangs between you, soft but weighted with purpose.

Logan’s breath catches in his throat, fingers splaying wider across your chest. The heat of his palm sinks through to your skin, lighting a fire in you. 

The steady beat of your heart under his touch is an undeniable reminder–alive, strong, with him. You can feel him relax, just a touch.

The tension in his muscles breaking down beneath you piece by piece as the rhythm grounds him, helps to pull him out of his spiral.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, barely audible. His eyes drop to where his hand rests, his thumb absently grazing the space just above your sternum. “I feel you.”

“Then trust it,” you murmur. “Trust me.”

A deep, slow breath escapes him, and something in his eyes softens just enough. You lean closer, your fingers trailing up his arms, over his shoulders, until they thread into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

You smile softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. He sighs deeply, leaning into your touch like a dog starved of attention from its master. His grip on your waist finally tightens, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to feel that edge of need—the need to let go.

“You’ve been taking care of me all day,” you murmur, scratching your nails along his scalp softly. “Now let me take care of you.”

You feel him shudder, a weak groan escaping from his slack lips. His hazy eyes search your face, pupils blown out and seeping into the warm hazel color like an oil spill over a lake.

You tilt your head, lips grazing the stubble on his jawline, moving slowly, deliberately, until you can capture his mouth in a kiss.

It’s soft at first, gentle, but you feel him melt into it, the sharp edge of his restraint crumbling as he kisses you back with a kind of hunger that fuels you.

Logan’s hands slide up your back, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as you take control, deepening the kiss, coaxing him further into the moment.

His mouth is warm and wet and urgent against yours, the scrape of his teeth along your bottom lip sends a thrill down your spine. 

His lips move over yours with a reverence that makes your chest tighten, as if each slick glide of your lips together is an apology, a promise, and a plea all rolled into one.

But you don’t want his apologies. You want his surrender.

His breath stutters in his chest when your fingers twist in his hair, tugging just enough to remind him who’s in charge tonight.

When your hand finds his chest, pushing him down gently, he goes without protest. His eyes never leave yours as he settles against the pillows, following your every movement as you crawl closer.

Climbing over him to perch on top of his thighs, you waste no time in reaching for the hem of his shirt, gently tugging on it in a silent question. Logan’s breath comes in shallow puffs as he nods, fingers twitching on your hips. 

You can feel the way his chest rises and falls under the tips of your fingers, the sharp intake of air when your hands ghost across the skin of his lower stomach as you lift his shirt up and over his head.

You toss it over your shoulder carelessly, it lands with a muted thump somewhere behind you, leaving his chest bare. His muscles taut and rippling as he forces himself to stay still, the dim light plays across his skin, highlighting the contours along his torso.

You take a moment to just admire him, trailing your fingers along the familiar planes of his skin. Your touch is feather light, tracing over the spots that should be littered in scars. 

The place in his shoulder where he got shot two weeks back, or where the loose shrapnel that embedded itself in his side on the last mission should be, or the skin where his shoulder meets his neck after you dug your teeth into it hard enough to bleed a few nights ago.

The way his body responds to you makes your pulse quicken—the way he finally relaxes completely under your touch, melting into the mattress. 

You continue your path down, fingers slipping through the ridges of his abs, scratching your nails through the dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his bottoms teasingly. The muscles of his stomach jump under your touch, the power of his need thrumming beneath your touch.

You drag your hand over the hard length of him, his cock thick and hot as it twitches beneath your fingers. There’s a sharp hiss bleeding through grit teeth as his hips twitch up off the mattress ever so slightly.

You lean forward, hiding a small smirk in the crook of his neck. “Logan,” you whisper, voice dripping with intent, “I want you to beg for it.”

A deep, guttural growl rumbles through his chest. It shakes your body like thunder, finding a home between your thighs. Logan’s head falls back against the pillows, exposing the tan column of his throat to your hungry gaze.

It’s almost immediate, your reaction, your bodies reaction. The pulse of your blood starts to simmer with that telltale heat, slowly bubbling beneath your skin in anticipation.

Your gaze traces along where the vein of his jugular presses against his skin enticingly, barely suppressing a full body shiver at the sight.

You slip your index and middle finger beneath his waistband, brushing against his hard cock with barely any pressure. His hips buck up again, seeking more friction, but you pull back slightly, making him chase it.

“I said beg, Logan,” you murmur, your voice low, teasing, a sharp edge to it now. Your free hand comes up, gripping his jaw tightly, forcing him to look at you.

His eyes, dark and blown wide with lust, meet yours, and you can see the war raging inside him—the urge to dominate, to take control—but then he’s giving in to you, surrendering so beautifully.

“Goddamn,” he rasps quietly, his voice rough, broken. It’s barely a word, more of a growl torn from his throat. He bites it out, quiet and foreign sounding coming from his tongue. “Please, I need—”

“Good boy,” you purr, and finally, drag the soaked fabric of his bottoms down. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach lewdly.

You moan softly, deftly wrapping your fist around him loosely. Logan groans, you swear you can hear his teeth grind together at the first feeling of your touch where he wants it most.

He’s scalding to the touch, velvety skin throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Rock-hard and flushed an angry red, darkening even more the closer you get to the tip.

You keep the pace of your strokes tortuously slow, letting him feel every movement, teasing him. It’s addictive, watching the way he starts to unravel beneath you at the slightest touch.

His legs kick out against the mattress minutely, hands falling from your hips to grip the sheets as hard as he can in a failing attempt to calm himself.

You lean down, slick lips brushing against his as you speak, your voice soft but commanding. “You’re going to let me do whatever I want to you tonight, aren't you?”

Logan nods, his breath coming in quick pants, his sweaty chest rising and falling rapidly. “Yes,” he chokes out, eyes brimming with need. “Fuck, do whatever you want, baby. I’m yours.”

The usual dominance he carries like a second skin has been peeled away, leaving him vulnerable, laid out beneath you, at your mercy.

Your hand speeds up, grip tightening as you twist your wrist over his leaking tip. Your knuckles shine with pre-come, slick from the gratuitous amount of wetness steadily drooling out.

“You’re being so good for me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice soft and laced with praise. “So good, letting me take care of you like this.”

His response is a loud moan, his hips arching up off the bed, but you’re quick to press them down with your free arm, your thighs tightening around him.

“Not yet,” you warn, strength on display as you stop his movements. “You’ll come when I say.”

A strangled sound escapes him, somewhere between a growl and a whimper, and it sends a thrill through you. He’s right there, teetering on the edge, but he’s holding on—for you.

“Poor thing,” you mumble, idly pressing your thumb into his slit, gathering the precome there to spread it along the flushed crown. “So hard, so needy for me.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Logan whines, his head tipping back against the pillows a second times, eyes squeezing shut tighten enough to wrinkle the skin around them.

You smile, your nails digging into his chest as you shift, positioning yourself above him. The heat between your legs is unbearable now, slick all along your inner thighs as it pools from your aching cunt, drenching the soft cotton of your panties.

So desperate to be stretched around Logan’s cock, to be filled the only way he can. You roll your hips forward, the hard jut of his cock sliding through the sticky mess of your panties.

“Shit, baby,” he groans, loud and hoarse. “Fuck, give it to me, I’m ready–”

You press your finger to his lips, silencing him as you hover over him. “Not yet,” you whisper, a wicked grin on your face as you slide your panties to the side and take him in your hand, letting the tip brush against your soaked entrance, still not giving him what he craves.

Your own patience is starting to run thin, but the sound of his begging is too good.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” you say, your voice sharp and commanding as you rub the tip of him along your cunt, teasing. “Tell me what you need.”

He’s trembling beneath you, a soft whimper leaving his lips as you sink down slightly, barely letting him inside. "Please, darlin'," he groans, voice rough with need. "I need to feel you—need you so fuckin’ bad."

You finally give in, sinking down onto him in one slow, deliberate motion.

His body jerks beneath you, a choked growl spilling from his lips as you take him in, inch by inch. You don’t stop until he’s buried deep inside you, your walls clenching around him as you settle into his lap.

The feeling is overwhelming, the stretch, the heat, the way he fills you completely.

You both groan at the same time, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you roll your hips, savoring the way he pulses inside you, how his entire body reacts to every little movement.

“God, you’re so big,” you whisper, your voice heavy with lust as you look down at where your bodies meet. “You gonna be a good boy and let me ride you?”

“Fuck,” he grits, voice like gravel crunching underfoot.

His hands slide up your back, desperate and needy as they cradle the back of your head softly. “I’d kill them all,” he pants, lips messily searching for your own, desperate for more frantic kisses. “Fuckin’ all of them, all for you.”

You moan loud and unabashed, eyes screwing shut as your nails rake down his chest hard enough to break the skin. The smell of his blood breaks through the air, heady and sharp. He throws his head back, a broken gasp dragged out of him as his hips speed up.

You think back to the room in the warehouse, the floor slick with stray remains and viscera. Think back to him lifting you to his chest, of the blood spattered across his suit and face slipping against your own clammy skin.

Flashes of Logan running to you like a loyal livestock dog, covered in the blood of any wolf that dares attack his precious sheep. Staining the white of your wool red with the righteous wrath of his sacrifice. 

You roll your hips faster, bouncing with enough force to have you crying out. The tight suction of your walls pulling him as deep as he can get at this angle.

The coarse hair along his stomach drags against your throbbing clit, making white hot sparks of pleasure zing up your spine to light up each vertebrae. 

Logan presses his forehead to your chest, hot breath puffing out over your sweaty neck. You tilt your head to the side almost subconsciously, bearing more of yourself to him.

“Can’t hold back much longer,” he admits weakly, blunt nails digging into your skin sharp enough to sting. “Feels so good, so fuckin' good."

He trails off, face pinched with ecstasy as he gazes up at you. You smile, rolling your hips slowly, tiny figure eights that let you feel every inch of him pressing against your walls.

“You're not supposed to hold back," you whisper, your voice thick with need as you lean down, kissing along his jawline. "I want you to let go, Logan."

His eyes snap open, the hazel gone wild and desperate, and it’s like you can see the exact moment he breaks. The tiniest shred of self control finally crumbling under the weight of his instincts. With a low, feral growl, he surges up.

You’re on your back quicker than you can blink, stomach surging with it. You hardly have any time to react, Logan punching all the air out of your lungs as he sets a brutal pace.

The sudden intensity has you gasping, your body jolting as he takes over, fucking you like his life depends on it. 

Each thrust is hard and deep, hitting the spot inside of you, over and over again until you’re a trembling mess above him, moaning his name, your nails digging into his chest.

Logan’s grip on you is ironclad, pulling you back onto him harder, faster, his breaths coming out in ragged pants as he loses himself completely in the heat of your body.

"That's it," you pant, feeling the way your body tightens around him, the tension building deep inside you. "Fuck, Logan, just like that—"

He growls again, the sound vibrating through his chest as he slams into you harder, his pace relentless. You can feel the sweat slick between your bodies, hear the wet, filthy sounds of your bodies coming together as his control snaps completely.

“Mine,” he growls between thrusts, voice low and rough as he pounds into you, his eyes locked on yours, full of possessive need. "All fuckin’ mine."

Your body responds to his words, tightening around him as your orgasm builds, every nerve in your body on fire. "Yes," you gasp, your voice barely more than a broken moan as he hits that perfect spot again and again. "Yours—only yours."

Slowly, deliberately, you bring your hand to your mouth, biting down on the pad of your thumb hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.

The scent of iron fills the space between you, mixing with the musk of sex and sweat. Logan’s nostrils flare as he takes in the scent, his pupils dilating further, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

You raise your thumb to his mouth, sliding it along his bottom lip to leave behind a thin trail of red. “Suck,” you whisper softly, pressing your thumb into his mouth ever so slightly. 

And he does, without hesitation. 

Logan’s lips part, and he pulls your thumb into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the taste of your blood. The look in his eyes as he does sends a wave of heat crashing through you.

The pure devotion of the act thickening the air around you to coil the spring of pleasure winding in your lower stomach tighter.

You groan, your own restraint folding like a house of cards as you drag your nose down the column of his throat, stopping right at the base. You press a quick kiss over the rapid fluttering of his pulse before you bite down, hard.

Logan keens around your thumb, teeth digging into your skin roughly as his blood floods your mouth. 

You get lost in it, the familiar taste of him seeping onto your tongue as his cock jerks and pulses in your clenching cunt. Getting lost in the way you can feel the rhythm of his heart against your lips, each strong beat sending more blood pumping out to leak along your taste buds.

You press your chest to his, not leaving an inch of space between you. It’s still not enough, it will never be enough.

You need more, so much more.

You want to encompass him completely, to be encompassed by him.

You want to dig your hands into his skin–to peel back each layer of flesh and fat and muscle, snap each of his ribs back so you can bury yourself in the cavity of his chest before you bend them back into place. Burrowing yourself deep enough inside him to watch him heal all around you, to watch his skin stitch itself back together.

It’s a sick feeling, the need to take and take until he has no more left to give. Sick and all consuming, lighting you up like the raging flames of a forest fire that destroys everything in its path. 

When you finally pull your hand away from his mouth, he lets out a breathless moan, and you lean down to press your lips against his in a bruising kiss.

The coppery tang of your blood lingers between you, mixing with Logan’s as your teeth clash together violently, as you devour him, pouring every ounce of your control into the kiss.

You press your palm to his chest, powers surging to life over his heart. You don't need to open your eyes to see what you leave behind, the red and blue pulse of his blood lighting up beneath his skin like the neon sign hanging outside his favorite bar.

Logan moans into your mouth, tongue dragging along the point of your canines. "Don't stop," he pleads, “Please, baby, don’t fuckin’ stop.”

You can feel the energy coursing between you, a tangible thing that's threading itself between your fingers. It’s intoxicating, a connection deeper than flesh, a binding of souls fueled by blood and lust. You lean into the heat radiating from him, urging your energy to flow freely, wrapping it around his heart like a warm embrace.

“Logan,” you whisper breathily, breaking the kiss just enough to look into his wild, pleading eyes. “You feel that? You and me, we’re connected.”

“I feel it, honey,” he groans, bucking his hips, forcing you to take him deeper. “You’re everywhere. It’s all I can think about all the goddamn time, drives me fuckin’ crazy.” His words tumble from his lips, raw and unfiltered, sending another thrill of desire through you.

You whine, head tipping back to the ceiling. Drunk of the feeling of him, of his cock, of his blood on your teeth.

You've come to think that being in bed with Logan is like being in church.

There's a holiness to the way he holds you—like you’re the only thing worth believing in.

The familiar weight of his body pressing you into the mattress is the alter. The heat of him like laying in the burning flame of a candle. The strong planes of his muscles each a different scripture that you take in by touch alone, skating your hands over his skin with something close to worship.

Each bead of sweat on his skin feels sacred, a testament to the intensity between you, as though every part of him has been crafted for this moment of devotion.

The hard length of his cock carves a place for itself inside you, each heavy smack of his hips punching another desperate sound out of your slack lips. 

His breath, deep and ragged, is a chant that pulls you into reverence. It puffs against the wild beat of your pulse, his lips brushing over the fever hot plane of your skin. 

The sound of your name falling from his mouth sounds like a prayer answered.

You can’t help but close your eyes, not in exhaustion, but in a kind of spiritual surrender, like by shutting out the world, you can truly grasp the divinity of it. His blood, mixing with yours on your tongue feels like a sacrament—an unholy communion.

The air between you crackles with heat, your bodies moving together in perfect sync, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. Logan’s head tilts back, his mouth open in a silent scream as he claws at your hips, pulling you down harder, deeper.

“I’m close,” he groans, his voice strained, desperate. “Please—fuck—I need to—”

You reach up quickly, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at you. “Look at me when you fuck me,” you demand, your voice sharp, dripping with authority. “I want you to watch me when you come.”

That’s all it takes.

 Logan’s entire body goes taut, a strangled roar tearing from his throat as he buries himself inside you one last time, the force of his release crashing through him. The hot spray of his come floods your insides, drenching your walls in thick spurts of white. 

His hands grip you so tightly you’re sure there’ll be bruises blooming later, but you don’t care. You wish they wouldn’t fade. You want them. You want to wear his mark, to feel the evidence of this moment lingering on your skin long after it’s over.

His hips don’t stop even as he comes, a sharp cry ripping its way from his throat as he keeps fucking you, pumping you full of him like he can’t stop. 

When you feel him start to lose control like that, feel the frantic twitch of his cock inside you, you finally let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. The force of it rips a scream from your throat as you clench around him, your body spasming with the intensity of it.

Your abused cunt gushes around his cock to seep into the mattress, soaking both the sheets and his lower body all at once as you let out a weak mutter of his name.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the ragged, uneven breathing between you as you both come down from the high. Logan collapses on the bed, arms circling your waist to drag you along with him. His cock stays inside of you, plugging you full of his come.

Your body trembles with the aftershocks of your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. 

Logan is warm and grounding under you, soft and lax. You can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady beneath your cheek, and you press a soft kiss to the skin there, a silent reminder.

His hand comes up to thread through your hair, his touch gentle now, his body relaxed in a way that it wasn’t before.

“I love you,” he whispers against the crown of your head, his voice soft, vulnerable in a way that makes your heartache.

You smile, soft and secretive in the valley of his pecs, “I love you too.”

It’s a quiet admission, the first time you’ve ever said that to each other with words. The first time you both felt the need to, because it’s nothing you didn’t already know.

Your blood dripping from his teeth lays the same claim over you as his come dripping down your thighs.

It means you're his, and he’s yours.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[yncoreee]

CEO PHAM. Hanni x reader

Synopsis: you’ve had enough dealing with Hannis cold and unbothered attitude, you think it’s finally time to resign but the problem is….she won’t let you

Warnings .ᐟ ummmm hello! It’s been like a month since I last uploaded a fic!!! Angst (?) idk but it’s not fluff, mentions of over-working, dark circles, taking sleeping pills, Hanni is described as a cold hearted, cruel, and mean person in this story, more parts for sure ( I lit have 7/8 other parts TT)

It was no secret that Hanni was described as a cold, cruel, ceo.

Rumors circulated the building the first few weeks before you officially became her secretary generating a sensation of fear in you.

But those rumors were proven to be true the moment you became her secretary.

She was nothing but cold and cruel. Giving you paper works that could take almost a whole day and give no sign of sympathy of mercy. The more and more days that passed on the more and more you got tired of being her secretary.

The last straw broke when she added a ton more to your work at 2am when you were about to be done with your previous work.

Your eyes twitched at her as she stepped out of the building right infront of you. Due to frustration you grabbed a huge chunk of your hair, your head unconsciously falling on top of the desk.

You woke up at 4am, looking around only to find yourself still in the office building and still in your yesterdays outfit. “Huh? I must’ve slept here last night”

Your hands unintentionally found it’s way, digging into your purse and bringing out your handy mirror. Your eyes widening in horror as you examined your present state.

A shriek escaped your lips as you noticed the dark circles below your eyes. If a child saw you they would mistake you for penny wise.

Your eyebrows furrowed with anger as you realized the reason for all this happening.

“Pham Hanni!” You spoke through gritted teeth. You dig into your purse one more time to bring out a sheet of paper you knew would be handy anytime soon.

You signed below the paper, the only thing remaining was her own signature.

Getting up from the chair, you headed to a nearby bathroom to give your make up a light touch. No one must see you looking like this.

—

“Good morning Ms.Pham!” You greeted plastering on a fake smile across your lips. “Uhhh I hope you’re not too busy, I have to talk to you about something” you deliberately emphasized on the word something.

“Something?” Hanni raised an eyebrow at your statement. “I’m not too busy, so sure. Let me hear this something” she leaned forward motioning for you to take a seat opposite her.

With clear hesitation, you sat infront of her pulling out the resignation letter placing it clearly in front of her.

“What is this?” She furrowed her eyebrows taking a closer look at it, “letter of resignation” she mumbled to herself her eyes widening in clear realization.

“What?! What makes you think I’m going to sign this?” She huffed folding her arms above her chest.

“Umm sorry but you have to, it was literally in the contract that I could resign whenever I wanted” you gave her judging stares.

“No I’m not signing it, you’re staying with me forever—“ you raised an eyebrow at her sentence causing her to stop midway. “wait hold on that sounded weird but yeah! Get the message I’m not letting you resign”

She’s behaving oddly strange.

“Why?” You asked staring intensely at her.

She sighed, leaning against her chair her shoulders hanging low. “Is it because of how I treat you? I promise I’ll treat you more nicely and humanly. I’m sorry for whatever harm I must’ve caused you” she apologized her eyes and tone softening which almost led you to buying it.

Wait! She was aware of what she was doing all these while and didn’t do anything about it??

“I’m so sorry but there’s nothing I can do right now, I’ve already came to my final decision” you spoke through gritted teeth. Your eyes narrowing at the ceo.

“Fine then. I’ll sign it” she grabbed a pen, scribbling hee signature below the paper. “But just know that because I’ve signed the paper doesn’t mean I’ll let you be just like that” she added with a teasing grin.

“Ummm ok whatever, that’s weird” you shrugged it off.

The intense atmosphere in the room caused you to immediately leaving the room. “I swear that woman is on something”

—

Ever since you’ve resigned from your “toxic” job. You’ve been living the life you’ve always dreamed of.

Your parents promised to take care of your finances, taxes and bills after you told them about it. They told you they weren’t going to let stress yourself about working.

Everything was all going fine and perfect. That was until…… someone had to spoil it.

[kinascum]

LATER, BOY - M. STURNIOLO (pt2)

[previous ch] _ [next ch]

SUMMARY: Matt and Y/N bond after she invites him to a game and they agree to study calculus together, leading to a deepening friendship and mutual understanding that hints at something more.

WARNINGS: NERD!Matt, POPULAR!reader, cussing probs idk, nothing else tbh

words: 1.1k

A Monday afternoon, as they were both waiting for the bus, she turned to him and said, "You know, you're not so bad, for a nerd." He laughed, the teasing tone in her voice bringing warmth to his cheeks. "Thanks," he said, trying to play it cool. "You're not so bad for a popular girl." She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face told him she didn't mind the banter. They talked about their weekend plans, and he found himself sharing details about his latest coding project, something he never talked about with anyone except his closest friends. To his surprise, she listened intently, asking questions and showing genuine interest.

As the bus pulled up, she turned to him. "You know, you should come to the game tomorrow. It'll be fun." He nodded, unable to speak. The idea of being somewhere she would be, doing something she enjoyed, was both terrifying and exhilarating. "I'll think about it," he managed to say, watching as she climbed onto the bus. He stood there, rooted to the spot, until the bus disappeared from view, her words echoing in his mind.

The game was a blur of colors and noise, a cacophony of cheers and laughter. He had never felt so out of place, surrounded by the very people he had spent his whole life avoiding. But there she was, sitting a few rows ahead, her eyes occasionally finding his in the sea of faces. When she caught his gaze, she would smile and wave, and he would feel a jolt of electricity run through him. It was a strange sensation, one that made his heart race and his stomach flip.

During halftime, she made her way over to him. "Hey, you made it," she said, her eyes shining. "Yeah," he replied, his voice barely audible over the din. "It's pretty intense, huh?" He nodded, trying to seem unfazed. "It's okay," she said, leaning closer. "You can sit with us if you want." And just like that, she had invited him into her world. He followed her through the crowd, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum. As they sat down, she turned to him, her eyes searching his. "You don't have to pretend, you know. You can be yourself around me."

The words hung in the air, a promise of acceptance he hadn't felt in a long time. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his shyness start to lift. "Thanks, Y/N," he said, his voice a little stronger this time. "I'll try." And with that, they watched the rest of the game together, their shoulders brushing every now and then, their laughter mingling with the roar of the crowd. It was a simple moment, but it felt like the start of something much, much bigger.

The weeks turned into months, and their interactions grew more frequent, and more comfortable. They found themselves sitting together in class, sharing lunches, and occasionally studying together after school. It was a slow burn, a dance of friendship that was gradually kindling into something more. The whispers of the hallways grew quieter as people began to realize that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for the quiet nerd and the popular girl.

Matt discovered that Y/N wasn't just a pretty face. She was smart, funny, and had a passion for life that was infectious. She taught him to loosen up, to laugh without fear of judgment. In return, he showed her the beauty of the worlds that existed between the pages of a book, the thrill of solving a complex problem, and the joy of a perfectly crafted line of code. They were an unlikely pair, but somehow, they fit.

Matt sat on the edge of the schoolyard bench, scrolling through his phone with the precision of a seasoned gamer navigating through his favorite app. The sun was a blurry blob in the cloudy sky, casting a soft, pale light over the concrete jungle of the schoolyard. The occasional bird chirping in the background, a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of teenage laughter and chatter. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair, a cool reminder of the approaching fall.

Y/N strolled over, her sneakers scuffing against the pavement, a warm smile spreading across her face. Her blonde ponytail bobbed with each step, and her eyes sparkled with the excitement of a new challenge. "Hey, nerd," she teased, dropping her backpack next to him with a thud. "You ready to save my calculus grade?"

Matt looked up, his cheeks flushing slightly. He wasn't used to Y/N calling him that, but he liked it. It was a term of endearment from her, a sign that she was comfortable enough with him to poke fun. "Always," he said, slipping his phone into his pocket. "But only if you promise not to tell anyone I'm tutoring the school's 'it' girl."

They laughed, the sound carrying on the breeze. Y/N plopped down beside him, pulling out her calculus textbook with a dramatic sigh. She was popular for a reason: she had a heart as golden as her hair, and she treated everyone with kindness, even the quiet ones like Matt. He felt a strange warmth spread through him as she leaned in close, her shoulder brushing against his. It was a simple gesture, but it made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't so invisible after all.

"So, what's the plan?" she asked, flipping through the pages. "How do we tackle this beast?"

Matt took a deep breath, his mind racing with equations and formulas. He leaned closer, pointing at the first problem with the tip of his pencil. "Okay, so you start with the derivative here, and then you apply the chain rule..."

Their heads bent together over the book, their focus intense. Neither noticed the way their fingers brushed against each other's, the electricity that seemed to crackle in the air. It was just two friends studying, right? Just two friends...

The minutes turned into hours as they worked through problem after problem. Y/N's laughter was a sweet symphony in his ears, her voice a gentle reminder of how much he enjoyed her company. As they took a break to grab some lunch, she mentioned her nerves about the upcoming exam. It was unlike her to be anything but confident, and it made him want to help her even more.

"Why don't we study together after school?" he suggested, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm sure we can get through it."

Her eyes lit up, and she beamed at him. "That would be amazing, Matt. You're a lifesaver."

He couldn't help the little thrill that shot through him at the idea of spending more time with her, just the two of them. They agreed to meet at her place, where it would be quiet and they could really focus. Little did he know, their calculus study session would take a turn he never could have anticipated

PT3 IS SMUT JUST SAYINNNN

TAGLIST: @sturnstvs @gxldenlush @immattsslut @stasiesturn @jetaimevous @solarsturniolo @watercolorskyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @meowira @secretagentspy @shadowthesim @slut4chriss @baileysturns (I love you guys sm)

[miustrz]

ANHEDONIA

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

PLOT: she can’t cry even when she needs to.

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

WARNINGS: idk. angst?

“Y/n…”

You looked at Inho, his face unreadable, his gaze unwavering. It was your third session this week, and something in the way he sat—calm, collected, yet seemingly on the edge—made the air between you feel charged. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he had something to say, something more than the usual clinical observations.

“You mentioned that your husband’s schedule doesn’t align with yours.” He placed his clipboard on the table with a deliberate slowness, his fingers brushing against the surface as he reached for his cup. You’d never asked if it was tea or coffee; it never seemed important. But now, with the tension in the air, even that small detail felt significant.

“Yeah… but why does that matter?” You frowned, crossing your arms, already feeling a bit uneasy.

Inho didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared into the distance for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly against the porcelain cup, then set it down. The small action, deliberate as ever, caught your attention more than you expected.

“Have you ever thought that he might be cheating on you?” he asked, his voice low but direct. “I’m not suggesting that you should act on it, but… have you?”

You blinked. The question didn’t sit right with you—not because it was unexpected, but because it stirred something deep within you, something you didn’t want to face. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond.

You didn’t want to think about it. It shouldn’t even be something you considered. But Inho had planted the thought in your mind, and now, you couldn’t shake it.

“I… I don’t know,” you muttered, trying to push away the sudden storm of emotions that threatened to break through. "Is this some kind of trick?"

Inho’s expression didn’t change, but there was something in his eyes, something that felt different—almost… tender? His gaze lingered on you a beat too long, and then he sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly as he pushed away from his chair.

“Come here,” he said, his voice quiet but commanding. He didn’t ask; it was more of a request you couldn’t refuse, though you didn’t know why.

Your heart raced as you stood, unable to avoid the strange pull in his voice. The click of your heels against the floor seemed to echo, filling the room as you made your way over to him. You stopped just a few feet away, arms crossed tightly in front of you as you waited for him to speak again.

He stood by the window, looking out over the rain-soaked world beyond. The glass was misted with droplets, the sound of the rain adding an eerie soundtrack to the moment. Inho didn’t immediately acknowledge your presence, and the silence between you felt heavy.

Finally, he spoke.

“Do you see her?” he asked, his voice suddenly softer, almost gentle. “The girl with the brown umbrella?”

You turned your head to look outside, following his gaze. You saw a woman, standing alone under an umbrella, her face beaming with happiness, completely unaware of the storm around her. Her smile, so untainted by the weather, made something inside you twist.

But it wasn’t the woman that caught your attention. It was the man standing beside her—someone familiar, but blurry at first. You squinted. Could it be? Was that…?

You froze. The world seemed to collapse around you as you recognized him. Your husband.

Why aren’t I…

You didn’t know what you were supposed to feel. You should’ve been angry. You should’ve felt betrayed. You should’ve lost it. But instead, there was nothing—just a numb, hollow sensation deep inside your chest.

You should have been crying. Screaming. Doing something. But you were just… standing there.

“I’m not… I’m not upset,” you murmured, almost to yourself, your voice cracking at the edges. “Why am I not upset? Why am I just… blank?” You turned to face Inho, desperation rising in your chest. “I should be crying, but I’m not. I’m just… empty.”

His eyes softened, and he stepped toward you slowly, as if afraid to close the gap completely. His expression was calm, yet there was something else in it now—something more than just professional concern. His lips parted as if to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

“Y/n…” he said softly. “This… numbness you’re feeling—it’s more than just a reaction. It’s a wall you’ve built to protect yourself, but it’s keeping everything out. Even your pain. I’m not saying it’s easy, but you have to feel something. Even if it’s pain, it’s better than this.”

His voice was gentle but insistent, and it made something inside you tremble. You wanted to push back, to tell him he was wrong, but deep down, you knew he was right. You could feel that wall, solid and impenetrable, and it terrified you.

“I don’t want to feel this way,” you whispered, your voice breaking as your hands clenched into fists. “I don’t want to be numb anymore, but I don’t know how to feel anything else. I don’t know how.”

Inho took another step forward, his gaze softening further as he looked at you. His presence was overwhelming now, and it was hard to focus on anything else. The space between you seemed to close in on itself, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, he said the words that would change everything.

“I need you, Y/n.” His voice was barely audible, but it hit you like a physical blow.

You froze, your heart slamming against your ribcage. The world seemed to tilt, as if everything was shifting around you. Inho… your psychiatrist… saying he needed you? The words didn’t make sense.

But the way he said it, so raw and unguarded, stirred something deep inside you. It was a feeling you didn’t recognize—a pull, a desperate longing you didn’t know you were capable of.

You blinked, trying to force yourself to respond, to regain control, but all you could do was stare at him in shock. His eyes were locked on yours, and for the first time, there was no professional distance. No walls. Just him. Just you.

"Inho…" you whispered, your voice trembling. "You can’t… We can’t do this. You’re my psychiatrist…"

The words fell from your lips, but they felt hollow. Because deep down, something inside you wanted this—wanted him. And you didn’t know what that meant.

But Inho just stared at you, his expression darkening with regret, and yet… there was something else. Something that made your heart beat faster, even as you told yourself you couldn’t go there.

“I know,” he said softly, his voice full of regret. “But it’s not easy to watch you suffer like this. It’s not easy to watch you pretend you’re okay when I can see the truth.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The tension between you was palpable, almost suffocating.

-

It had been two years. Two endless years that felt as though they were slipping away from you without a trace. And yet, you weren’t upset. It felt… normal. Too normal.

You found yourself sitting in the same office, the one that had been a constant for you. The same walls, the same sterile lighting, the same chair, the same soft rustle of the paper between your fingers. The same man across from you. Inho. Still the same Inho.

The man who had once been your psychiatrist, who had peeled back layers of your life you never knew existed. The man who had made you question everything you thought you knew. But now, it was all too familiar. Too comfortable. Too routine. The only difference now was the way the clipboard in his hands seemed to be withering, its edges curled, the paper within frayed at the corners. Why didn’t he just buy a new one?

“Y/n?” Inho’s voice broke through your thoughts, calm but a little too sharp, as if he’d been waiting for your attention. “Are you able to focus, or do you need some more time to think?”

Think? You weren’t thinking about anything at all. Your mind was a blur—full of static, of memories that didn’t quite fit together anymore.

“Can I have one more minute, please?” you asked, your voice coming out softer than you’d intended. You gave him a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

Inho nodded, his face unreadable. He stood up, and you watched him move—watched him walk across the room with his usual composed steps. But this time, you felt a strange disconnect. Where was he going? Why was he walking around like this, as though he didn’t care that you were still sitting there, waiting for him to give you something—anything—new?

You stared at his back, confused.

“Inho?” You called out, and he stopped, turning his head slightly toward you, but not fully meeting your gaze. His hands lingered along the edge of the room’s counters, as though he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Where are you going?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it still managed to sound desperate in the quiet.

Inho sighed. He sighed. The sound was too heavy. Why did he sigh like that? Was he tired of you? Tired of this? Tired of the sessions that were no longer getting anywhere? You couldn’t tell. His face was unreadable, but his shoulders seemed to carry something—a weight he wasn’t willing to share.

“Do you know why I hate the rain?” he asked suddenly, his voice sharp with an edge of frustration, almost as if he was challenging you.

Your chest tightened. “Inho, these questions… what are they supposed to mean?” You stood up then, your mind swirling with confusion. What is happening?

“Inho, I…” You wanted to finish the sentence, but it was as though the words were stuck in your throat.

He cut you off. His voice had changed, becoming pointed. “Y/n. You’ve been avoiding everything I’ve been asking you. What is going on? Why do you still come here?”

You recoiled at his words. His tone wasn’t harsh, but there was a pressure behind it, a demand for an answer that you didn’t have. You tried to speak, but your voice faltered, cracking in a way that scared you.

“I… I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. You hadn’t even realized how badly you were trembling until you looked down and saw your hands shaking uncontrollably in your lap. Your body felt like it was unraveling. What was this?

Your chest felt tight, suffocating. Your breathing, shallow and uneven, left you feeling dizzy and unsteady. The weight of something you couldn’t name pressed down on you from every angle. You wanted to scream, to ask him why, but instead, all you could do was feel your heart race faster, faster, faster—

This feeling.

It was horrible. The kind of horrible that made you want to run away, to escape from yourself. But there was something else there, too. Something underneath the horror. Relief.

Relief. Was this the first real emotion you’d felt in… years? Was this the closest thing to living that you’d experienced in such a long time?

Your eyes met Inho’s again, but now, they were filled with something he hadn’t seen before. Anger. Frustration. And maybe something more—something darker. You didn’t know why, but his face, the way he looked at you now, suddenly filled you with rage.

Why was he looking at you like that?

Why did his eyes seem to pierce through you, as though he were studying you like an experiment? His expression was too calm. Too detached. It made you feel exposed, as though all the parts of you he had uncovered were now his to keep, his to judge.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You stood up, brushing your hands against your dress as if trying to shake off the remnants of everything that had built up inside of you over the years. You walked toward him, feeling the silence press in on you, but only your footsteps—the steady click, clack, click of your heels against the floor—accompanied you as you crossed the space between you.

When you were two steps away from him, you stopped. You looked at his face, and your stomach churned.

His face. You hated it. You hated it so much.

“Inho,” you spat out, your voice trembling with the weight of everything that had been building inside of you. “I fucking hate your face.”

He chuckled, but it wasn’t a warm laugh—it was almost like a knowing laugh. As if he had anticipated this moment. As if he had been waiting for it all along.

And then, with a strange sense of acceptance, Inho opened his arms wide, inviting you into them.

You stared at him for a moment longer, your chest heaving with emotion you didn’t know how to deal with. Your hands were shaking harder now, and the tears that had been threatening to fall finally broke free, hot and sticky down your cheeks. Without a word, you stepped into his arms.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself fall into the vulnerability that had been hiding beneath your cold exterior. You didn’t care that your tears stained his white coat, that your mascara smeared across his chest. You didn’t care that crying felt so disgusting, that it made you feel like something broken, something filthy.

But at the same time, you felt… relieved.

For the first time in years, you felt. All of it. The pain, the anger, the relief. You cried, and it wasn’t easy, but it was something you’d missed. Something you hadn’t known you needed until now.

“I hate seeing your face too, Y/n,” Inho murmured softly, his voice full of something that almost sounded like sorrow. But then, just as you thought the moment might change, he added, “Stop coming here all the time. This... this isn’t helping you anymore.”

The words felt like a slap to the face. They hurt, but in a way that almost felt right. Because deep down, you knew he was right. The sessions, the routine, it had all become a cage. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to leave it behind. To stop coming here.

But for now, you let him hold you. Because, in this moment, it was the only thing that mattered.

[tobybestupid]

I need more of the terror twins smut lmao please

Like she somehow (idk how) manages to take them at the same time in the same hole?? Like them two timing her in her pussy, Y’know?

I’m so sorry about the request it will hit me soon enough about how strange it is, but I’m in a lack of terror twins smut that I don’t care at the moment :))

DVP🙀🙀 ofc my pookie.

Calm down, ey?

Terror Twins x Reader

Tw: DVP (double vaginal penetration), smut, praising/praising kink, Tommy being cocky, gentle sex, hair pulling, unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it, PLEASE.)

It started when Nikki noticed you were stressed out, he (of course) couldn't help but recommend sex.

You agreed, something gentle and to get your mind of things. Tommy was napping on the couch so it'd be okay, not like he'd have to know..right?

You're laying on top of Nikki's chest, he's gently thrusting in and out of you, causing soft whimpers to escape your mouth. Nikki wasn't huge like Tommy, he was average so it's not like his cock was stretching you out like Tommy's always did when you and him fucked.

You whimpered softly and nuzzled your head into Nikki's neck, beginning to suck and kiss and his skin gently. He grunted and groaned as he contuied to thrust his hips upwards, just a little rougher.

Then, suddenly the door creaked open, Tommy was still really tired and groggy.

"Cuddle..oh—" He looked at the two of you, Nikki didn't stop but you looked up to look at Tommy.

"Can I join..?" He mumbled tiredly, already getting onto the bed and kicking his pants off.

"If you're gonna get blown, no. Don't want your fucking balls in my face" Nikki grumbled, continuing his pace in and out of you.

"I'll just get her from behind— you'd like that huh baby?" Tommy slapped your ass gently causing you to jerk upwards and moan.

"Yes- yes, I'd like it-" You whimpered out, watching Tommy take off his boxers, his cock was still somewhat soft.

"Nikki wears that lube?" Tommy mumbled.

"You shouldn't need any shes pretty wet aren't ya' Hun?" Nikki kissed your cheek as you began to somewhat bounce on his cock, his hands sliding down to your hips.

"Yeah, okay. Sure, maybe if my fucking shlong was as small as your's" Tommy laughed at his own joke.

"Be nice Tommy" You told him as he walked over to you two with a bottle of lube, he was gently jerking himself off.

"Yeah yeah, why don't you lay back down onto Nikki's chest huh? Much easier position" Tommy grabbed a handful of you ass, making you moan and doing what you were told, laying into Nikki's chest.

Tommy put a generous amount on lube onto his hand and rubbed it onto you already wet cunt, the cold sensation made you shiver.

"Good there babe?" Nikki asked as he began rubbing you back meanwhile Tommy slipped into you, causing a moan to slip out of your mouth.

Tommy put some more lube for Nikki to enter, Nikki was slow. He slowly rubbed his tip against your cunt, making you whine for him. He slowly pushed himself into your warm cunt, you held onto his shoulders tightly at the stretch.

"Too much?" Tommy asked, quickly looking at you as you shook your head.

"Fuh-fuck..just, really big.." You mumbled, Tommy slowly began thrusting in and out you causing you to moan quietly.

Nikki quickly began to do the same, he was groaning quietly. You felt a pair of hands grab onto your hips, another onto your ass.

You felt yourself get tighter, Tommy moved of his hand from your hips, quickly finding your clit are rubbing gently. You whimpered and moaned at you became tight around the two, Tommy quickly quickened up his pace on him rubbing your clit.

"Good girl huh? Doin' so good and taking these cocks sooo well huh?" Tommy whispered into your ear, rubbing your clit even quickly as you grabbed onto Nikki's hair and tugged gently, you were (at this point) a moaning mess because of the two.

"C'mon good girl, cum for us huh?" Tommy mumbled to you as Nikki quickened up his pace, and so did Tommy.

You let out a loud moan and your legs shook as you came around the two, Tommy quickly came after you, grabbing your hips and pushing himself deeper inside of you as he came. Nikki did the same, both of their cum dripped out of you as they pulled out of you.

"Fuhhckkk.." Nikki breathlessly mumbled out, all three of you were panting and..sweaty.

"Tommy you smell icky- did you put deodorant on?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Nope"

[ayyy-pee]

Chapter 10 - Forward Flip

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Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader, Choso Kamo x Female Reader

Summary: Important conversations happen. Important decisions are made.

Story Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Oral Sex

AUTHOR'S NOTE: aur we're coming up on the end of this storyyyy. i just wanted to thank everyone for coming along for the ride and witnessing reader's frustrating journey of growth!!!

next chapter will be the last! (probably idk i lie a lot lmao)

The sound of feet hitting the pavement rings loudly in Suguru’s ears as he rushes forward. His board slams hard against the concrete just as he hops on, kicking his foot forward, speed picking up. He’s been at this for hours, the sun now setting on the skatepark. It was full when he arrived. Now only a few stragglers hang around, everyone else calling it for the day long ago. 

He can’t sit still, though. He can’t go home yet. Not when you’re not returning his calls, his texts, his voicemails. He knows he has no room to be upset. You’ve got every reason to be ignoring him after everything he’s done.

Should he have punched Naoya in the mouth? No. Of course not. But what else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t stand idly by and let that asshole talk about you the way he was. He didn’t regret knocking his teeth in one bit. His only regret was what followed.

He wishes you would just talk to him. Say something, anything . An “okay” text, a thumbs up emoji. Anything at all. That’s why he’s here at the park. He can’t go back home to the silent punishment you’re giving him.

Your silence is killing Suguru. It eats away at him slowly, plants seeds of dread in the back of his mind. He’s been trying to ignore it, but there’s this strange feeling that’s been forming in the pit of his stomach since he was escorted off set. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but something about this feeling doesn’t feel good . 

Besides, it’s not like Suguru was the only one who messed up. Surely you’re as pissed with Choso as you are with him. You must be. What other reason would there be for him to also be at the park right now? Suguru’s gaze flicks over to the other side of the skatepark, to the ramp where a familiar set of pigtails sit atop someone’s head, lips set in a hard line as he stares down at his feet.

Yeah, Suguru knows that look. Pensive, confused, maybe a little pathetic. It’s probably the same look he has on his own face when he’s not completely focused on skating.

Choso’s been at the park just as long as Suguru, if not longer. Probably trying to burn off his tension the same way Suguru is right now. He assumes you’re not returning any of his messages either. And while that gives Suguru just a bit of satisfaction, it doesn’t change the fact that while you’re not speaking to Choso, you’re also not speaking to him . And it only makes that uncomfortable feeling in his gut intensify.

The wind stings, the rush whipping Suguru’s hair messily across his face. His limbs burn with every bend of his knees as he jumps, feet flipping his board beneath him just before he approaches the edge of the bowl. He ignores the discomfort, some twisted part of Suguru telling him he deserves it, that he’s earned the pain. He bends his knees again, slowing just barely before the nose of his board dips over the edge and he dives in, racing down the curve of the bowl. 

He loves this feeling. He loves the sensation of gravity pulling him down so hard it makes his stomach turn. He loves that for a brief moment he feels like he’s escaped his reality, escaped the messes he’s made outside of this concrete bowl, escaped all thoughts of you and the nagging feeling that’s been stirring in his gut since the last time he saw you. He watched you storm off, back turned as you angrily left the set. 

It’s only for a moment that he can forget, but for that moment, Suguru can finally breathe.

Then he’s up, wheels carrying him high above the bowl, high above any of the bullshit that’s waiting for him when he lands again. Up here Suguru grips the side of his board, legs stretching ahead of him as he spins twice just before gravity grabs a hold of him again, yanking him back to reality.

When he’s back on flat ground, riding his board lazily across the pavement to where his belongings are, he’s surprised to see the park is empty, except for Choso, who has now moved on to grinding across the rails. 

Suguru watches Choso curiously for a moment, studies his form and he has to give it to him. He can see why he wins any event he competes in. He can see why you were drawn to Choso, why you’d choose to photograph him. He’s damn good. 

Choso’s on his phone now, brows knitted as his fingers fly across the screen and Suguru can’t help his curiosity. He wants to know who he’s talking to. He has half a mind to cross the park and ask if he’s heard from you. But he won’t. He doubts Choso wants to talk to him of all people. Nothing good has come from them being near each other anyway.

Except for leaving Naoya Zenin with a broken nose and a few loose teeth.

The memory makes Suguru chuckle to himself as he steps off his board to grab his water bottle and phone. Uncapping the bottle, he takes a swig, glancing at his phone. He nearly chokes on the liquid, sputtering when he sees your name at the top of his notification. You’d messaged him just minutes ago.

You: I’m coming over.

Shit.

That odd feeling in Suguru’s gut surges suddenly, clawing its way up his throat and he has to physically swallow to push it back down. Your text brings up a mixture of feelings for him. He’s happy to hear from you, but the tone of your message makes him nervous. His gaze drifts back over to Choso who he can see is back to staring off into space, hands shoved into his pockets and he wonders if it really was you who he had been typing to only moments ago.

He’d be lying if the look on Choso’s face didn’t give him some sense of relief, maybe a little joy. Perhaps you’d come to your senses and finally ended things with him. Maybe you’d realized Suguru was who you should have always chosen. He lets his imagination run wild with the thought of him opening the door and you leaping into his arms, planting a kiss on his lips and telling him you’re so sorry for playing with his heart even after all this time. Even after Suguru realized how he had felt.

Suguru pictures him finally having you to himself, finally treating you how you deserve to be treated, how he should have been treating you all along. He’s the right choice for you. Always has been, always will be. Suguru stares down at your text again, a small smile curling at the corner of his lips. He can’t wait to see you, can’t wait to hear your voice again after being met with nothing but silence from you.

His eyes find Choso again, who has now resumed hitting the rails. Whatever he saw on his phone must have stressed him out even more. Doesn’t matter, though. All Suguru cares about is getting home. It won’t take him long. He’ll definitely get there before you do. And he wants to be ready for you.

Tonight, Suguru will make sure that you know how sorry he is, how much he loves you. And the night will end with you finally being his.

- - - - - - - -

Your fist lightly taps the door to Suguru’s apartment, hands trembling as you try to calm down. You’re pretty sure anxiety is seeping from your pores as you wait for Suguru to answer. When the day started, you hadn't pictured you’d end up here. You started the day sad, confused and hiding from the world beneath your blankets. 

You’ve ended it with clarity. Even if it took you weeks to get here, you got here. 

It only takes a minute before the door opens, dark eyes meeting yours, framed by damp raven strands hanging loosely around them. He looks relaxed, like he hasn’t got a care in the world. It bothers you because while he’s all calm and collected, you’re absolutely dreading the conversation ahead.

“Hey, I’m glad you came,” Suguru says, cool as ever. He steps aside so you can come in. You take in the familiar sight before you – Suguru holding his apartment door open for you, inviting you inside. Any other day, you may have easily stepped right past him, heart in your throat as you went inside and let him have his way with you. But this time feels different. You don’t miss the way your heart no longer skips a beat seeing him, how your pulse does not race in the slightest as you stand in front of him, how your body essentially has no reaction to him at all.

This is not something you’re used to, being able to just be there with Suguru and not feel your stomach twisting into knots at the sight of him. It’s a strange feeling, really. Seeing Suguru and not being completely under his spell is new, refreshing . It gives you the strength you needed to do what should have been done a long time ago.

“Hey, Suguru.” You shake your head when he gestures for you to come inside again. “That’s okay. This won’t take long.”

Suguru cocks a brow curiously, leaning against the doorframe as he folds his arms over his chest, face twisting into an expression of concern. “Did you want to talk about something?” He asks. 

“Yes.” There’s no use in dragging this out.

He purses his lips, inhaling deeply. “Okay…Can I go first, though? And will you please come inside to talk?”

His next moves are all so obvious now, all too familiar. You want to roll your eyes. You know how this will go before it begins. This is Suguru trying to take control of the conversation before you can steer it the way you intend to. He wants to try and drown out any of your doubts and worries with honeyed words and empty promises. Suguru wants to make you soft for him, wants to make you forget that you came here with a purpose. 

And if not for that dinner with Nanami and Satoru earlier tonight, you fear you may have ended up back at square one the moment you saw the man before you. You may have never opened your mind to who Suguru truly was without their guidance. 

You would have shown up, determined to get Suguru to give you what you’d always wanted from him; commitment to you and you alone, promises, him . And all you would have gotten was his arms circling your waist, a kiss to your temple, to your cheeks, to your nose and then to your lips. Sweet words that held no meaning whispered into your ear. And stupidly, you’d be putty in his hands.

That’s how things used to be.

You stare into Suguru’s pleading eyes, silently begging you to come in. He doesn’t know what all has changed for you in the last few hours. You’re confident enough to feel as though things are finally working in your favor. You are in control here, no matter the setting. 

You fold your arms across your chest. A defensive move. It almost feels like a shield meant to block the inevitable bullshit you know Suguru is about to spew. “Alright. Let’s go inside.”

The moment you step foot in Suguru’s apartment, you almost regret it. You’re a little surprised at the way the familiarity makes you…sad. The confidence you had just seconds before wavers ever so slightly. It’s been a while since you’ve been here. So many memories were made in this place, both good and bad. So many tears shed here, both from pleasure and from pain. And it’ll be likely that the last memory you have of this place will not be a good one.

Suguru immediately moves to the couch, patting the seat next to him. He’s comfortable now, in control. This is his domain, after all. He’s just waiting for you to make the wrong move before he pounces. Judging by the smirk resting on his lips, you know he thinks he’s won the battle before it’s even begun. 

And of course he feels that way. It’s the way it’s been between you two for over a year. The same routine over and over. Suguru acts like he’s giving you the opportunity to say what you need to say, to speak up for yourself, let all of your feelings out so he has time to gather his thoughts and work the situation to his advantage. He’ll say all of the sweet things you want to hear, tell you what he knows you like and then you’ll lose your resolve and fall into his arms.

Old habits are hard to break.

"Clear thinking requires courage rather than intelligence." The last thing Nanami said to you before he opened the door to let you out of his home. “Don’t feel stupid for how long you took to reach this realization. Just…do the right thing now.”

Those words echo in your mind as you take a seat next to Suguru on his couch. Nanami was right. He was right with every point he’d made, and he had made a lot of them. You settle into your seat, making sure to put a good bit of space between you. It makes Suguru furrow his brows, but he doesn’t bother to question it. He wants you to feel comfortable.

You wave your hand, motioning for Suguru to go on. “You said you wanted to go first…so…”

“Right.” Suguru clears his throat as he combs his fingers through his hair, pushing the strands from his eyes. “First off, I owe you an apology for what happened at the shoot the other day. I just–” He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I just couldn’t sit there and listen to that fucker Naoya talk about you like that for a second longer. Pissed me off. I couldn’t stop myself.” He pauses briefly, eyes glued to the floor as he gathers his thoughts. “I know I had no right to be pissed about this one, but when Naoya mentioned Choso…” You swallow the lump that quickly forms in your throat at the mention of Choso, the way he looked at you the last time you’d spoken and your heart squeezes painfully. “I guess I got more upset having it thrown in my face that you’re still seeing him. I should’ve had more self control,” he continues when you don’t speak. “I ended up ruining your day. And I heard you got suspended from work?”

You nod when Suguru peers over at you, confirming his suspicions. “I did.” 

He gives you a moment, waits for you to say more. You don’t. You want to hear every sorry excuse Suguru has, every apology he owes you. You want to let Suguru get out everything he wants to say before you say what you need to. He doesn’t get to control the narrative anymore.

“Fuck,” Suguru sighs, your name falling quietly from his lips. “I’m really fucking sorry. Obviously I didn’t want that to happen.”

“I would hope not,” you chuckle dryly. Suguru perks up for a second, hearing your laugh before visibly deflating when he hears your next words. “But I guess that wouldn’t be the most fucked up thing you’ve done to me, would it?”

His brows knit together and for some reason, the confused look on his face annoys you. He reaches forward, gently taking your hand in his.

“Hey, if this is about everything else, our relationship –” You cut him off with a scoff, which he promptly ignores as he continues. “Listen, I know I’ve done some fucked up shit. I know I’ve been fucked up and as big an asshole to you as they come and I’m sorry . I don’t know how else to say it. I don’t know how many times you need me to say it to believe me, but I mean it every time I do.”

You pull your hand from his hold, lacing your fingers together in your lap and that strange feeling that’s been forming in Suguru’s belly for the last few days? Well, it’s beginning to grow, spreading rapidly and clawing its way up his throat right now. “I want to believe you, Suguru.” You tell him. Because it’s true. Against your better judgment, you do want to believe Suguru means it every time he utters an apology. Because the least he could do after all the shit he’s put your through is fucking mean it when he says he’s sorry. But you don’t believe him anymore. You don’t believe in him anymore. “You’ve apologized so often, it doesn’t mean anyth –”

“I told you I’d show you I’ve changed,” Suguru quickly interjects, moving from his spot on his couch to kneel before you on the floor. He places his hands over yours, in your lap. “I’ve been trying. I know you see it. I’ve been letting you have your space, do your thing, figure out what you want – who you want without trying to sway you one way or another! I’ve been trying to do more of that boyfriend shit that you’ve been asking for. I haven’t been with anyone since I told you how I felt.” 

He quickly rambles off his list of all the ways he’s been better for you.

And he has been better. You’ll give him that. If only he’d done it sooner. And if only he’d done it because he wanted to. Not because someone encroached on his “territory”. Who’s to say that if you ended things with Choso and went back to Suguru that he wouldn’t go back to his old ways?

Suguru stares intently into your eyes and you’re not sure if it’s panic you see behind his gaze or what, but strangely, it makes you want to laugh in his face. It’s comical, peering down at him before you, desperately trying to get you to see how good he is for you. Is this what you once looked like? Had you really been this pathetic? 

Probably.

You wish you could go back to the past and shake yourself, wake yourself up to the bullshit fed to you by the man on his knees before you. 

“The investigation has been completed and I’m going back to work in a couple weeks. Choso stuck his neck out for me, thankfully.” 

You see the way Suguru tenses when you mention Choso, but he quickly recovers, a wide grin spreading across his face at this news. “That’s great! So you’ll be back at the park to –”

“Suguru.” You hold up a hand, cutting him off. You remove your hands from his hold once again. “I really appreciate the apology. I appreciate you looking out for me at the shoot and standing up for me.” You give him your first genuine smile of the night. “A few months ago, I would have loved to hear you tell me these things. I would’ve loved to have you care so much. I would have believed that you cared as much as you said.”

“I do care as much as I say,” Suguru asserts. You see his hand move, like he wants to reach for you again, but he thinks better of it. He busies himself instead by running tucking his hair behind his ears.

You’re sure Suguru thought it would be as simple as apologizing to you a few times to earn your forgiveness. It’s a little funny, you think. As you sit here and watch Suguru fumble around with his words, nervously fidget with his hair, stare a hole into your head, you suddenly wonder what it was about him that made you put up with all of his bullshit all this time. What has Suguru ever truly given you aside from a headache and a broken heart?

And yet, suddenly he cares so much.

“Why now?” You ask.

“What?” His head tilts to the side, clearly confused by your question.

“Why do you care now ?”

Suguru mutters your name softly, a gentle plea for you to believe him. “I care. I’ve always cared. I would have done the same thing months ago that I did at the shoot. I would have never let Naoya disrespect you like that.”

You can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes you. “Right…” You lift a finger, pointing at Suguru whose eyes widen with your next words. “It’s only okay when you disrespect me.”

“I–”

“What changed?”

“What do you mean?”

Your irritation is beginning to build.

“I mean, what changed for you? You’ve made it clear that you suddenly want to be together, but why? Is it because of how you feel about me? Is it because you see a future together?”

Suguru stays quiet.

“Or is it because of Choso?”

Suguru sighs and you can see the way his jaw ticks as he tries to find his words. 

"Choso…" he says his name like it's dirty. "I can admit that Choso did play a part in me coming to the realization that I want to be with you."

You roll your eyes. "So you only want me now because someone else is giving me what I've been begging for you to give me all this time?"

"No! That's not it. It took seeing you with someone else for me to see that I'm ready to be with you. I'm ready to commit to you."

You fix Suguru with a deadpan look. "...Because you saw someone giving me what I had been asking for you to give me. Now all of a sudden you love me and want to be with me." Suguru reaches for your hands and you pull away, standing from your spot on the couch to put distance between you two. “Do you hear yourself when you talk, Suguru?"

He stands as well. He doesn’t try to get closer, though you can tell by the way he keeps nervously carding his fingers through his hair that he wants to. He breathes your name. “Okay. Okay . I get what you’re saying. I fucked up. I didn’t appreciate a good thing while I had it and yes, it took someone else doing what I should have been for me to open my eyes, but I’m fucking trying! ”

“And it’s too fucking late!” Your voice echoes through Suguru’s living room. Louder than you’d intended, but you’re sick of this shit. Your anger is boiling over, tears burning in the corners of your eyes.

Suguru stares at you in shock, eyes wide. You’ve never raised your voice at him, even at your angriest. But that was the old you. Too quiet, too accepting, loyal to a fault. Not anymore. 

Suguru calls your name again, and for the first time since you’ve met Suguru, you can hear a slight panic in his voice. You can see it in his body language, too. The tension in his jaw, the way his hands are balled into fists at his side, how his lips are pursed tightly together.

“Do you know how many times I stood right here –” you gesture between the two of you. “And asked you how you felt about me? How many times I’d left here hiding my tears after I’d begged you to love me the way that I loved you? And you know what you would tell me?”

He’s silent for once, not bothering with any bullshit reasoning with you. And while you’re grateful, it makes you laugh, a short burst of giggles rushing past your lips.

“Don’t take what I say so seriously when I’m balls deep, babe.” You repeat his words back to him. “ That’s what you would tell me.”

Suguru finally takes a step forward, and you step back. “Baby –”

“No.”

“ Please. ”

“It’s my own fault for putting up with this for so long, honestly. You shouldn’t have to force yourself to change for me just because you see someone else making me happy.”

“I’m not forcing myself to do anything,” Suguru proclaims. He takes another step forward and you take another step back. “Will you just sit down? Just listen to me. I– I’ll do whatever you need me to do to prove it to you.”

“I don’t need you to prove anything to me anymore.”

It’s quiet, the only sounds being the exasperated sigh you let out as you two face each other, staring each other down in the middle of Suguru’s living room. He has nothing to say, not that there’s anything he could say to keep you here.

You move towards the door now, ignoring how Suguru quickly follows after you, keeping a safe distance between you both. As you reach for the doorknob, you glance back at Suguru, who looks like a deer in the headlights, watching you longingly. Like he knows this will be the last time you come here.

Because it absolutely will be the last time.

There are so many more things you want to say to Suguru. You want to say more about how shitty you think he’s been, how you don’t know why you stuck around for so long and let him string you along. But you’ve wasted enough time here. It’s getting later and later by the second and you have somewhere else you want to be, somewhere else you need to be. 

Without another word wasted, you open the door and leave, not bothering to look back.

- - - - - - - -

Your feet dangle loosely over the edge of the deep concrete bowl. The sun has long gone, the moon having risen in its place. But it’s a particularly dark night. You can barely see your shoes as you stare down into what looks like a bottomless pit, the park’s street dim lighting hardly doing anything to illuminate the drop. You wonder how anyone skates here at night. It’s nothing but emptiness, darkness and eerie silence. 

It’s creepy.

It’s also oddly relaxing.

After leaving Suguru’s apartment, you promptly blocked him on all social media. You didn’t need or have any interest in seeing what he had going on in his personal life. But since you often work together, you went ahead and left his phone number unblocked. Though the second you’d made it back to your car, you already had several missed calls and texts from him to which you’d responded with a dry ‘Any messages and calls not pertaining to work will be ignored.’

He hasn’t messaged you since.

It’s been a relief. No more putting up with an asshole, no more being used, no more empty promises. You can finally breathe.

You hear the sound of quiet footsteps slowly approaching you from behind. And while you can’t see who it is, you know. You know by the way your heart skips a beat, the way your pulse races, the way your body reacts immediately in mere anticipation. You don’t need to look back to know who’s coming.

He sits beside you with a quiet groan, long legs dangling over the edge of the skate bowl and swinging in the darkness alongside your own limbs.

“Hey.” His deep voice rings loud in your ears, makes your heart pound wildly against your ribcage.

You turn your gaze to him, drinking in the sight of his pale skin practically glowing under the moonlight. His hair hangs loose tonight, framing his pretty face perfectly. You drink in the sight of him – those dark circles that rest beneath those pretty brown eyes of his. That tattooed line that runs from one cheek, over the bridge of his nose and to the other side of his face. Those soft lips turned slightly at the corners with a small smile.

“Choso,” you whisper his name, afraid that if you speak too loudly, he’ll disappear. His smile widens when you say his name and he reaches over, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, knuckles brushing gently along your skin.

“How did it go?”

Choso is straight to the point, as always. You’re grateful for it, because you don’t want to waste another minute on this.

“It’s over.”

“For good?” He asks quietly.

“Yes.” You answer with no hesitation.

His eyes bore into yours, searching, though you’re not sure for what. But you don’t dare look away. The silence lasts a few seconds, but feels like an eternity before Choso’s large hand comes down to cup your jaw. He exhales slowly, a deep breath you had no idea he was holding.

“Good.”

His lips are on yours in an instant.

[broooooo]

Nock nock nock

____

It was like any other day...

I am alex, a guy who doesn't exactly have a firm grip on things, I live mostly locked up in my apartment, and outside of shopping, I don't do much

I was resting on my couch when I heard it..

*Nock nock nock*

Someone... Something was at my door

I've heard it countless times prior and always ignored it.

I learnt from others that to get a nock at the door is a chance to change everything.

Those drones.. that have taken over the population, I've seen it happen to friends and family, though they very much enjoyed the transformation and do technically retain their normal selves, I still found it strange , yet fascinating.

Some friends I've known used to wish to be like others, sexually active and hot, when they got the chance , they jumped at the chance and in the end I'd never seen them happier, stroking their large latex cladded cocks... A leaky fountain of pre and cum..

I admit I've been curious..

I used to feel extremely turned on to sexual things once, but it's died for me, I can't feel much or anything, I can't stay hard either, it's quite saddening.

If I opened that door ... Hmmmm

*I contemplated for what felt like forever before going with my gut and the adrenaline.

And opened the door...

My eyes met the black rubber figure

I'd have seen him before but not this close up

He is drone Aaron, my neighbour. It's quite jarring too remember his past, he was so sad and lonely, but now. .. *my eyes sparkled with envy*

I stood up straight

"h - hello.."

Aaron's black head slowly unravels to reveal his normal face, he bends forward and smiles, with one hand on his rubber cock

I stare at his deep blue eyes as I feel my own cock try to stir within my pants.

"well well.. someone's interested. Aren't they? Wink" Aaron says softly

I- well .... *Blushes* I don't think I've seen a drone up close before...

Aaron chuckles and smiles " I know how you feel, I felt the same way once..now's your chance to look even closer.. would you like that?"

I- well... Idk... I don't know what it feels like to be aroused anymore... *Sad face*

Aaron looks down and puts his hand on my shoulder

"don't worry.. I got your back, why don't we chat inside?"

Oh .. yes. Sure

I invite him in and close my door.

Aaron sits on my couch, I go over to sit down next to him..

*awkward silence*

Aaron speaks up

"do you like what you see?"

You mean dronehood right?

Welll .. it does seem.. fun

*awkward laughing*

And you're.. um.. *pointing to Aaron's leaking rubber clad dick*

Looks fun too? Yeah...

Aaron chuckles * nervous are we? I understand... Here. You can play with it if you want* smiles

'im shocked and surprised but excited?'

Aaron comes closer next to me and guides me hand onto his dick, it's veiny, soft and rock hard, slick from the leaking.... It sends shivers through me as I feel the sensation of latex and pre on my hands.

*how does that feel? Aaron smiles*

I- um... Idk ... It feels... Amazing... Ehehe chuckles

Aaron also laughs back... "I can tell. Your dick seems to be reacting well."

I look down to my surprise.. my dick is hardening? But.. but now..

It's normal.. don't worry*Aaron squeezes my bulge sending further waves through me. I'm almost zoning out at how relaxed and happy I am.

"Tell me .. are you ready?"

I turn to Aaron and nod..

Yeah... I want this.. I haven't been able to feel like this in so long... I want it . I need it.. I want to feel like this all the time ..

Please. Convert me.. 'I release my dick from my pants and it becomes fully hard'

Aaron smiles... *That's all I needed to hear..*

___

The next few hours? Was a blur, from the moment I said yes. Aaron led me to my bed and started to caress me, breathe and speak softly.. as he lubed up my dick and my body with his pre and working on my dick, rubbing and edging,

My mind was horny. I was horny. For the first time in forever... I was so happy..

Aaron slid on some leather boots , heavy and thick on my feet, as he worked on spreading latex on me.

It was slow and steady, warm and comfy. The latex hugged my muscled body and slowly took over my mind... My dick was harder than rock and throbbing from arousal.

Aaron then slides his drone dick into my ass . Converting me from within sending the latex nanites to create a latex body.. a new drone to the hive

I was in a state of hypnotic bliss , ready to cum, ready to obey, Aaron was fucking me , and I was being converted.

Then it happened. Aaron came , cummed a giant load after load of latex drone cum into my ass, just as I began to cum

I came for the first time in forever. My mind went along with it. I was still Me, but I was obedient and horny, just like I wanted...

Idk how long I came for.. it felt like forever had passed.

According to Aaron my dick was Cumming and leaking cum for hours. A record to say the least. He was impressed. When I came too, I slowly woke up, with a new body. Latex, and muscled , my feet were heavy leather boots and I had straps and belts hugging my shiny body

Aaron spoke up* enjoyed your self buddy? Or should I say.. drone 8976?*

I stared at my hard leaking rubber dick..

Yes..... It was amazing... Thank you... So much *tears falling* I must cum and obey.. I am drone 8976 , online and ready for action.

Aaron smiles* hehe, I hope we can play together again one day. it was fun.. now .. let's go shall we?* He extends his hand and picks me up

We leave my apartment on a new adventure, to nock at the doors of someone who may be in need ..

I was a drone... I couldn't be happier

Will you open the door if you hear it?

______

Hehe hi guys

Long time no story!

Ik it's been awhile and I really wanted to write something, I hope you guys like this one. Idk how I feel about it.. but I think it will do!

AAAAAAA

[danieyells]

so I'm back on a TD brainrot and was thinking of Rui when I got slapped with a memory of when I read a Vash x reader fic. it's called Its the Thought that Counts by Jelly_Doughnut on Ao3 and basically, Vash is, unknowingly, gifted a dildo so he can give it to reader. and Vash is given a bracelet that the person attuned to him. anyways reader does end up using the dildo and it turns out that bracelet connected what reader was doing to the dildo to Vash's cock. and now all I can think of is smth similar going on with Rui ,,,

Belated(and probably too late haha) welcome back to TDB brainrot for however long you stick/stuck around!

And. . .HONESTLY THAT'S A GOOD IDEA. . .like lbr sex has advanced technology for ages, if there aren't anomalous sex toys I WOULD BE SHOCKED. Something as simple as a cockring that actually doesn't let you cum(shout out to @nsftdb 's leo x sho [x alan] fic--) and even as complicated as like. Portal underwear or a dildo or strap-on that lets you feel through it. . .LIKE YOU'D JUST HAVE TO FIND WHOEVER'S RESEARCHING THAT STUFF AND MAKE AN ORDER SURELY. . . . THE ANOMALOUS INVESTIGATION INSTITUTE HAS PARTNERED WITH LOVESENSE TO BRING YOU--

But with Rui and the reader I can see it being intentional, a deliberate introduction of a workaround. . .it's not the same but the sensation is there. That's important! Idk why I'm imagining Hyde being the one to bring it up--somehow this is relevant to his field of study, anomalous biology applies to people's intimate lives as well! Nicolas is too much of a prude to explore this area.

Anomalies can be constructed(hence why he has Romeo testing out explosives he made for him) and he and. A team he works with on these things. Have a prototype and, honor student, I think this would be perfect for you and your relationship and circumstances you know~?

And maybe you're a little uncertain because, hey, that kind of experimentation in the bedroom is kind of dangerous? But he assured you it's totally safe so far! They just need more trials! He can prove how safe it is if you want he could show you--no, you'll take his word for it? Okay, then give it a try and report back!

And it's a. . .sleeve? A cock sleeve. And a dildo of similar design and. . .the instructions are simple. Put the sleeve on the penis(it's tight enough to mold to fit but soft enough material to not be an painful iron grip) and introduce the dildo to the desired hole(right now through insertion) don't forget lube! Unless you're into that much friction. . . .

And you're a little skeptical but. . .you give it a try. Rui puts on the sleeve and. Well it's a weird sensation at first because it. . .doesn't really feel like anything most of the way around? But he can kind of feel the way the dildo sits against the bed as if he's resting his cock on the sheet. It's a little strange but. He's excited too? He can already tell it works??

And you wrap your fingers around it just to pick it up and he jumps because yeah actually he did feel that! Just this. . .sensation of fingers holding him. And it's been a long time since he's had fingers on him at all that weren't his own and you're kind of thinking. . .maybe we should like ease into this more? We haven't hugged or kissed yet. Maybe they have something for that??? Maybe we shouldn't jump straight into. . . .

Well he already put the sleeve on and you're already here so you. . .start testing. At first running your fingers over it and gently squeezing it. And it shudders and jolts and twitches when he does. And he's sensitive because it's really been a long time. And you don't wanna start stroking him without any lube but you're supposed to be testing it so. . . .

You run a stripe from the base to the tip with your tongue and no, no, there's nothing wrong with it it doesn't hurt it's the opposite it's just. A lot all of a sudden. You've been together so long but you're skipping almost everything that would come between now and this moment and there's something exciting for him about that.

You've masturbated together and experimented with toys before but this is. Almost contact. It's as close as he can get without getting there right now. And as you move from teasing licking to experimental sucking and stroking, it's both intimate because it's with his lover, someone he wouldn't hesitate to hold if only he didn't fear killing them, and there's a nostalgic feeling, like before the curse, with flings he barely knew the name of, the fun of pleasure at a sort of distance. . . .

And you can watch him absorbed in the pleasure, gripping the sheets in lieu of holding your head, watching you with his pupils dilated to take in as much of you as he can. You're doing that. You are personally doing that. Not just the sight or thought of you but your actual actions. It feels tight and wet like your mouth, he feels you moving your tongue and hollowing your cheeks and teasing your own throat, and you feel him reacting and hardening and bucking between your lips.

And he grabs hold of the sleeve, moaning your name and thrusts into it--

And then you gag and you both stop because

You felt that actually, it moved on its own. It still needs to be held up in some way, but it thrust into your mouth for him and. Oh dear you have a lot of experimenting to do. . . .

(Obviously you try penetration if you're into that. Thighfucking, titfucking if applicable, he fucks your hands and feet and asscheeks. You try leaving the sleeve on and tease him while he's in the garden. He drops you off at the cathedral and feels you give him a kiss goodbye through it.

Why didn't he think to ask someone for something like this before, something that would transfer tactile sensations, Yuri has a syringe that transfers damage dealt from its target to the person who dealt it, surely the technology for long-distance sensation exists in some anomalous form already, even if he has to wear a whole damn fencing uniform to feel it--

And he's not the only one who's on the receiving end of teasing. You try leaving it in and it doesn't feel like anything at first, oddly enough. You feel the weight but it barely even feels like it's inside. Until you feel wet from lube being dripped into the sleeve during class. Until you feel fingers pushing into you, probing and stretching and thrusting while running an errand. Until you feel vibrations teasing your opening and pushed inside while you're trying to sleep.

He gives you a courtesy text to get permission before he puts his cock in. That may be a bit much to surprise you with.

It's still very distant and it's not the same as actually doing it but. . .you can report to Hyde that it seems to be working well enough and if his. Expert team of researchers have anything similar to trial you might be willing to give it a try.

And he tells you about all the features they're working on and looking into--sharing temperature is the closest on the list to being done. External stimulation is in the works. They'd love to be able to actually transfer fluids rather than just the absent feeling of them, but that's a bit difficult to work with. . .it's a little embarrassing to hear about work like this but it's also exciting to think you could share a more accurate intimate experience, right?)

BUT YEAH EXCELLENT IDEA I'M LOVE. . .I was thinking about portal/penetration-enabling underwear and sensation-transferring straps the other day actually lmao

[goodolddumbbanana]

Sun X Molten crack fic (Friend, best friend, whatever man. I just like see them hanging.)

Maybe ooc. I black out and see this. IDK what i wrote man, maybe very cringe. Sorry for anyone who read it.

What was right, what was wrong? It was hard to understand when you were literally built to kill.

Molten's icy blue eyes stared up at the gloomy ceiling. The animatronic bear had been hiding in the vents for too long before crawling out of boredom and confusion. Molten's existential crisis would come back every now and then, for he had too much time to rest unlike before, when he was just forcefully turning off all day.

The question of what he should do, and what he could do next, lingered in his mind. The steady clicking of gears and metal against metal, rumblings each of every step he took. He was still not used to these weakling skinny stringy legs, especially when Molten had been purely instinctive in moving wire-like movements like an octopus.

Being repaired felt strange, and his mind was too clear it made him felt wrong. The hunger for purpose still lingered in Molten’s core, only it was not as strong as someone’s hand was twisting his circuit board like before.

“Moon?-- Are you here? Oh— Molten?”

The shrill voice of a Daycare Attendant. Molten tilted his head to look back, the golden glow of the yellow animatronic seemed to brighten up the gloomy Parts and Services area.

This was Sun. Molten knew this person. He is Moon’s older brother. Sun… according to what was left in his memory data, is a kind and good person.

“H–Hello Sun. Why are you here?”

“Oh… I was just looking for Moon… to do something related to my magic. Is there any chance you know where Moon is, Molten?”

Sun's stuttering almost stuck together, their whole bodies stiffened and their laughter was too awkward, Molten's sensors could clearly see that Sun was tense, and judging by the pair of legs that seemed to be only a few steps away from the door, it looked as if Sun wanted to escape from Molten at any moment.

Molten didn’t understand why he felt a little sad, while he didn't know what sadness meant. 

Perhaps it was because his appearance was too ugly, making even these kind people who wanted to fix him and give him a second chance, still didn't want to get any closer to him.

"Do you want me to help you find Moon? I'm very good at searching."

"Yeah... I know that..." Sun smiled awkwardly, and an awkward moment passed. There was nothing to say between the two, and the skills that Molten could only provide actually reminded Sun too much of their old bad memories.

About Ruin, about Nexus…

Molten, although he didn’t know much, was sensitive enough to be aware of situations, and he had heard quite a bit of things during these time, he knew that this was Sun’s difficult topic to talk about.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Sun… I know I look terrible and you’re still afraid of me…”

Molten lowered his head, suddenly the ground looked easier to see than the rays of sunlight above Sun’s head.

“Wh–? What? Noo—no… Molten, you do nothing wrong...” Sun’s usual tense stuttering voice suddenly changed, in the white frosted glass, Molten could vaguely see Sun’s two pearly pupils staring at him seriously. “I don’t have any problems with you. It’s just that I… It’s that I–” Sun took a deep breath, his hands clasped together, Sun’s voice softened. “– I’m not good at interacting with new people. It makes me feel nervous. I just need everything under my control…”

Sun’s voice became softer and softer. The rays on Sun’s head also twitched rhythmically as if trying to breathe.

“Oh... I see." Molten mumbles. "So…” He whispers under his breath. 

“You don’t hate or fear me, right Sun?” Molten asked curiously. A tingling sensation in his core, like satisfaction mixed with hopefulness.

Sun laughed, like what he said was really silly, “No? What have you done to deserve this treatment?”

“A lot…” Molten said slowly, the understanding echoing quietly like water flowing in a deep cave. A tired laugh came from Sun, Sun’s hand lightly bumping, too lightly, just a brush against Molten’s elbow.

“Sometimes there are things that can’t be fixed no matter how much you want to. You’ve changed, and that’s okay with me. I’ll never blame you for things that are out of your control… And you can ask Moon, Solar… or me if you need any help….”

The hum of the servo rang in Molten’s ears. The darkness was as bleak, and his chest was as empty and purposeless as ever. But the occasional phantom pain that swept through his code was soothing, like drinking a bowl of warm soup on a cold winter day.

Maybe it was the feeling of connection.

Maybe it was the feeling of having someone and not being alone.

“I still like following orders.” Molten hesitated. “It’s… sometimes good. It gives me purpose… Even if it’s just something the Creator put in to make me obedient.”

“And right now… even though I can do anything… I can’t think of anything.”

“It’s… empty.”

Sun just listened silently. Then, slowly, a soft groan comes out of Sun. The yellow animatronic folded their arms, it felt like they were trying to force out each word.

“I'm not the best at this, Molten. But…” Sun said softly. “I believe that in the end you will know what you want or what your new purpose is.”

"How can you be so sure?" Molten looked at Sun and saw through him. There were fragments that merged into celestial shards, condensed in Sun's eyes like a broken shooting star. 

His friend is like him, but much stronger than him.

"Hey Molten… Why don’t you help me find Moon, and then we can watch a movie or something?” Sun's invitation sounded like an olive branch, like a key that broke the boundary between Molten's prison and freedom.

‘To make you feel less lonely, to give you some purposes to work with.’

‘Because I understand the feeling of hopelessness and emptiness when you have nothing to cling to?’

That was Sun’s unspoken words.

“You know you can hang out with me whenever you want, right?”

‘I’ll be here if you need me.’

What a good person. Molten thought. The kind of one would easily break under any bad situation. But Sun is still standing, and that is truly admirable. 

“Can we watch a movie?” Molten asked curiously, his hands touching each other, unconsciously imitating Sun’s movements.

“Sure, what kind of movie do you like?”

“Human Centipede? Or we can watch ***, or ****, or ****** ****”

Sun froze. Sun’s overly expressive face, mixed with confusion, disbelief, and anger, made Molten begin to understand why Solar and Moon liked to tease Sun so much.

“Molten.” Sun smiled, but his eyes weren’t smiling at all. “Who told you those movie names?”

“Moon.” Molten threw Moon under the car without hesitation. The truth was that he only happened to see it when Moon connected him to the Internet, but it almost made Sun relax, so that was a plus in Molten’s opinion.

“Eh– Let’s go find Moon and then we can go watch a movie. I really need to say something to Moon…” Sun muttered, seemingly about to explore. Sun’s rays spun dancingly. It looks fun. Molten wondered if he asked, will Sun let him touch and play with them?

“Let’s go Molten.” Sun’s cheerful voice rang out and for a moment, a gentle sound swipes in Molten’s mind.

‘Sun is my light. Without him I would be lost”. 

And yet even with Sun, Nexus went insane. Molten never understood why Nexus kept refusing people’s help, and chose to walk down a more destructive path like that. Then again, maybe, it is the Moon thing across all the multiverses. 

Molten wondered. If Nexus let go of his links so easily like that, can Molten take his place and hold this little light a little bit for himself?

‘Can you be the one who stays with me, Sun?’

[ebongawk]

rules: post the first lines of up to 10 of your last fics/chapters posted on ao3 or your wips and try to draw some conclusions.

tysm for the tag @pipergirl17 (like a week ago whoops) this seems so fun!

every star in the sky (is taking aim)

I love you, man. It was a strange feeling, lungs filling with blood.  His lungs filling with his blood.  Painful, yeah, but also weird.   Unnatural.  Like his blood knew it wasn’t supposed to be there, but it didn’t have a choice.  And the sensation of drowning in the liquid of his own body, the wet he produced that was supposed to keep him alive literally killing him? Fucking unreal.

the beating of our hearts (is the only sound)

Chrissy was exhausted. Three hours before, when she’d initially walked into Jason’s home, she’d already been tired.  But then fifty of their classmates popped out of poor hiding spaces, shouting surprise! so loudly she thought they’d ruptured her eardrum, and her internal dial went from ‘worn out’ to ‘enverated’ almost immediately.  Like the room was full of vampires that thrived on energy, and every ounce she had was leeched as soon as she stepped foot past the threshold. Whatever she wore on her face, Jason mistook it for excitement.

overheated heart (head over heels)

Eddie needed this goddamn movie to end. He was dying.  Like, actually suffocating, his lungs inhaling and exhaling oxygen without absorbing any of it into his blood.  He kept taking slow, deep breaths, but every passing second was agony.   Because with every stupid, necessary puff of air, Eddie kept getting little nudges of flowery perfume, and it was gonna be the death of him.

let's climb too high (for the stars to reach us)

Plopping down on a stool, Chrissy gave a weary sigh, letting her head droop against her crossed arms on the bartop.  She felt, all at once, like she’d been awake for a thousand years, and all she wanted to do was go to sleep.   Curl up in her bed after a long, relaxing bath and read one of her romance novels until she passed out with the pages spread over her chest. Joke’s on her, considering her bed was now tainted.

give me your hand (give me your sound)

It was a weird fucking day. Walking into the hellscape that was school, the aura was weird.   Anticipation hung heavily in the air; the promise of an impending week off made tension thick as people prepared for their spring break with wandering minds and jittery dispositions.  Ignoring lessons outright in favor of planning road trips and parties, discussing how to obtain alcohol despite the prying eyes of ‘authority figures’ standing over their shoulders. Eddie reveled in it.

heart begins to beat

The memories came in increments. Lying awake, staring up at the ceiling of a hotel room that felt more like home than Chrissy’s own childhood bedroom ever had, the pieces of a past her tormented mind had begged her to forget slowly stacked together.  Like a game of Jenga towering higher and higher, waiting to fall and crush her completely.  Each new brick connected the dots of a nightmarescape she couldn’t have fantasized in the most insane of dreams.

the conclusion I'm drawing is that I'm a big fan of single-line tag lines to sort of set the tone for a story 😂 which tbh I already knew. I also tend to steer my Chrissy POV intros more toward emotion while my Eddie intros seem a bit more physical? but idk if that's true for every fic or just these six.

(also idk if it meant the first few lines of the story or of the most recent chapter posted but I went with the former lmao)

I'm gonna tag @cyraclove @billysblueeyes @astorytotellyourfriends and anyone else that might want to play!!

[theroseiswithoutawherefor]

Well, first of all, I have to thank @yridenergyridenergy for selling me the ticket! It was literally the best experience I had throughout the year; I really, really, sincerely appreciate it.

As promised, this is my repo of the gig in Wakayama. To be honest, I’m really a bad recorder as I can only recall the sensation or vibe in general and forget the details every time. Am I the only one?? Anyway, I guess my drawings may not be precise at all and it would be more like a summary of the year.

And this repo will be focusing on Kaoru, Toshiya and Kyo. I’m sorry but I stood on the left in both times.

Kaoru

It’s so strange that I can easily feel my love for him grows with time and what a coincidence! I visited them twice this year and I was right in front of him every time. I always assumed that I would be in front of Toshiya when I checked the hall map in December, but no! It was Kaoru again! It kinda shocked me the time I located my seat and noticed his microphone stand was there, just about 2 meters away.

I think probably it has been known by all of you, the show started with a semi-transparent screen showing some AI-generated footage(sorry, I hate this part). It covered most of the setting but just revealed some shadows. I could only see Kaoru, his side profile, priest-alike gown and silver hair. He looked so focused and indifferent and so good-looking…my hands are still sweating as I recall it now.

That was my first time listening to Rinkaku on-site. I got caught up in emotion when you could easily compare themselves in reality and their sketches in the video. You could see how much they have changed and it also just reminded me a lot of moments, staying at home and staring them on the screen. The real vs the virtual.

Also, at the beginning from the distance, I could only see some sort of marks on his chin that looked pretty much like piercings? It turned out to be his makeup; so brilliant.

Kyo

I didn’t see Kyo that much this time, but I feel he is that kind of vocal that you would fall in love with once you’ve actually seen him in the venue. He looked so nostalgic to me this time, maybe bc of the ghost face makeup or the fact that I have seen him too much this year. I also went to HK for sukekiyo this year.

The gig of sukekiyo was more emotional, floating and spacey (and less aggressive, obviously). Kyo’s dedication was so contagious. Although he looked a little bit nervous at the beginning of the Day1, forgetting the lyrics now and then lol.

It is interesting to see the similarities and differences between Diru and Sukekiyo, like looking at different reflections of the same mirror.  

Btw probably he is the most inspiring Diru member to me I guess. Idk why drawing kyo always begins with a pretty satisfying draft then it becomes a big challenge to my expertise and patience ahhhh. But yeah, I can improve a lot after finishing it. So, kyo, thx? lol

Toshiya

I’m not quite a fan of his white outfit that day(the one worn in the pic of their tweet on 16th Dec). Actually I even failed to recognize him the first, waistcoat and palazzo trouser are ok but definitely not the most stunning look of him. It seems that his style is becoming more gender-neutral this year, with hair dyed brown, pearl jewelries and feminine makeup.

But I still quite enjoyed his performance, his body language was so beautiful (ugh! It’s such a shame that I can’t recreate it)and he was the first one going to the left terrace and saying hi to everyone. Toshiya is always the sweetest person in Diru to me.

I prefer his encore look more and he took off the shirt and threw it to the gift right in front of him

（and a random sketch）

That’s it! I could have drawn more but, sorry I’m a perfectionist, these pics really took me some time, but I may keep going if I have spare time.

And I’m not used to talking so much on the Internet, it is embarrassing somehow.  

The year of 2023 has treated me rly good, I hope it would be the same for all of you and Diru members, see you next year.

[squarebracketsmileyface]

Answering this ask FOUGHT ME I swear to god. First I hit post before I was done writing and hadn't added tags or anything because it was just sitting in my drafts, and then when I rewrite it and went to save what I'd done TUMBLR FUCKING DELETED THE POST. The universe saw me being giddy over getting songs and went "well we can't have that" so now I'm writing it for the THIRD TIME (while my thumb is randomly going numb for some fucking reason lmfao. Like, I'm not cold, circulation's not cut off. It's just slowly losing all sensation 💀)

Anyway, attempt three!!!

Omg yes yes yes :DDDDDDDD okay okay, I won't do the whole lil "going through all the lyrics" thing I sometimes do because if I did this post would be stupidly long, but omg just know I've had these on loop almost constantly since I got this ask. They have all been put in their respective playlists now >:]

Wicked Game by Him has gone in the My Girl playlist, because:

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you

And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

This first verse really does feel like Jam to me. Like, they desperately wanna save each other, and the world is kinda on fire around them. And Jay never thought he'd meet someone like Tim let alone being loved by someone like Tim and have to worry about losing someone like Tim. Y'know?

Step On Me by The Cardigans is either going to go in the Tim Safewords playlist, or in the My Girl playlist, and I cannot decide so right now it's in both. I just can't decide if I want it in My Girl for foreshadowing, or in Tim Safewords for when Jay actually pushes too far and hurts Tim by accident. Like, Jays already stood on Tim's foot and Tim carried on anyway because he loves Jay and he really does want to help him and fix him.

I don't even have a specific lyric that made me go "oh yeah this goes in such and such playlist" it's just the whole song I think.

Perfect Girl by The Cure, definitely My Girl, that one's a given, Jark is indeed a strange girl and does need to be shaken and turned upside down.

Psychic Wound by King Woman... I also wanna put this in Tim Safewords BUT ALSO entry 80. I could put it in entry 80's playlist. I could. I so could.

Enslaved by the opinions, under seductive rule

Please rescue me, I've disobeyed and I admit I'm chained to you

Alex. Idk just Alex and the operator. After Alex kills Jay I have him kinda have this awful moment of clarity where he realises what he's done, and he's so overwhelmed by it that he tries to kill himself, but the Operator stops him so it can force him to continue his lil job for it.

Help me, I'm so chained to you

Someone tell me what to do

Feeling like a psychic wound

Like. This is Jaylex. This is Jaylex. In entry 80 neither of them know what to do, they need to be told, and Alex unfortunately has someone there to do it, that 'person' being the operator.

I do like it for Tim Safewords a lot, and Entry 80 is already like 60 songs strong which is far too many so idk where I wanna put it just yet. Another one that'll go in both playlists until I go through them properly again and make up my mind.

Pitch The Baby by Cocteau Twins is in My Girls playlist, I just like how it sounds, it's a fic that lets Jay and Tim have a little time and space to breathe and just enjoy each other, and the song's so pretty and like, floaty? Idk if that's the word I'm looking for, probably not but it's close enough, it's just a really nice feeling song. And like "I only want to love you" I think the lyrics say? Yeah, Tim only wants to love Jay, he just wants to use this lull in the constant, active threat of death to spend time loving on Jay a bit, teaching him how to let himself be loved and all that.

Daydream In Blue by I Monster is almost definitely going in Tim Safewords. It just feels like it fits, I think specifically because of some of what's gonna happen in that fic.

You're crawling on the bathroom floor

You float around the room and you're naked

Then you're flying out the bedroom door

Like, Tim has a bit of a freak out (for good reason) after he has to safeword, and he does end up on the floor in the bathroom, because he needs a moment on his own and that's the only room in his house with its own lock. And sure he doesn't NEED to lock Jay out, but he feels better if he can, so he does kinda, y'know, fly out of the bedroom door when he runs away to hide for a bit until he can get everything in his head under control a bit. And he's dissociating to high hell so he does feel like he's floating, y'know?

I dream a dirty dream of you, baby You're swinging from the chandelier I'm climbing up the walls 'cause I want you But when I reach you, you disappear

This bit also feels like the Tim Safewords fic, but kinda from Jay's pov more? Like, he knows he fucked up and he needs to make it right somehow, he needs to make sure Tim doesn't hate him, doesn't leave him, so even when Tim's hidden himself away somewhere unreachable (both in real life and in his head for... Reasons (mayhaps someone else fronts to handle the situation... Mayhaps someone split specifically to cope with Jay)) and Jay really does feel like he's climbing the goddamn walls to try and get him back, but when he reaches Tim, emotionally, Tim's gone, he's distant and cautious and Jay knows he's ruined it... And then they have to go to Benedict Hall together :D

Gonna pop a little warning here, the last song in here is one I'm gonna use to talk a little more about Jay's consent issues through, in case you don't wanna read that. Specifically it's talking about Jay trying to force Tim to choke him again, even though he knows Tim doesn't want to.

Reptilia by The Strokes... Yeah Tim Safewords, again. Look I can't help myself that fic's gonna be INSANE and everything reminds me of it. It's just... Consent issues, y'know? I love exploring Jay's consent issues, they're so interesting.

I'm literally just putting the lyrics to almost the entire song under this now lmao. Look, I can't help myself, there's not many lyrics and they really do feel like they could be talking about a dubiously consensual (or even a noncon) situation.

I was afraid that you would not insist "You sound so sleepy, just take this, now leave me"

I said, please don't slow me down if I'm going too fast You're in a strange part of our town

Like... Jay feeling like "god please don't take this from me, I need you to be rough with me, don't stop me, don't tell me not to, just let me put your hands on my throat, please" he's hoping Tim will change his mind and say it's fine, hoping Tim'll essentially say "yeah just take what you want" y'know?

Yeah, the night's not over, you're not trying hard enough Our lives are changing lanes, you ran me off the road The wait is over, I'm now taking over You're no longer laughing, I'm not drowning fast enough

'Tims not trying hard enough to care about my feelings about this, why can't he just see this from my perspective, I need him to be rougher with me' type shit. And then 'well maybe he's just scared of doing something I don't want, like he was scared of with trying out the feminisation stuff with me, so if I take over and put his hands there, he'll know it's fine.' and then 'oh fuck. I fucked up. Oh shit he looks fucking scared, he looks like he's sick, shit shit fuck shit fuck What'd I do what's wrong with me what the fuck!?'

Now every time that I look at myself "I thought I told you, this world is not for you" The room is on fire as she's fixing her hair "You sound so angry, just calm down, you found me"

Tim's gonna get to have a go at Jay for it, of course, he needs to make sure it gets through Jay's thick fucking skull that 'hey, you can't fucking do that what the fuck is wrong with you??? The world doesn't fucking revolve around you, did you stop for even a fucking second to think about what I've told about about why I don't want to fucking do that???'

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Hi! I love your writing a whole bunch and was wondering if you’d maybe be up to writing something with a really talkative and openly affectionate reader who tends to go into long rants about the most mundane things (just a big old blabbermouth), and Charles who actually finds most of the blabbering entertaining and endearing. Some sort of romance thing between them but not really??? Idk but tihihi yeah 🤞🏽😜 and if it could be a fem reader maybe? or gender neutral it doesn’t really matter. Thank you!!

Lovers Rock 

(Charles Smith x Fem!Reader Fluff)

I have an affinity towards writing Charles as an awkward and self conscious guy when it comes to you and his crush. Also I made this a little too romantic oops .

Warnings: none

Horseshoe Overlook, New Hanover, had scarcely been more than a large opening on a cliff side in the past, overlooking thick forests and open fields. The opening had been shaded by a handful of large, spreading oaks, and foliage of all types scattered on the ground; so much so that anyone intruding the camp would be immediately given away by the crunching of brittle twigs and dry leaves. Yet the once empty overlook was now bustling with work and chatter, horses and chickens, campfire songs and lighthearted games, tents occupied by well-meaning people and bountiful wagons. 

The move had been a well welcomed adjustment, one the gang had practically thrown themselves at out of desperation. Being figuratively holed up in Colter had been hell on earth. And the burning sensation your fingertips and nose felt as they began to warm up from the temperature change was a small sign of better things coming your way. Yet despite the constant moves around the nation, you did not complain once. In fact, you somehow managed to constantly keep your spirits up. As well as the spirits of a few of the other gang members. You were what the others would call a social butterfly. You never did quite run out of things to talk about. And why would you, things were always happening around you, and you were a very observational person.

Many members of the gang also found it incredibly intriguing that your best company was Charles, given he was such a reserved man who didn't say too much. How a talkative girl like you found herself blabbering away at such a quiet man like Charles was beyond them. But your bond was created over your ranting and his listening. Something the two of you found very endearing. You, in the way Charles looked at you with such endearment when you spoke, humming occasionally and nodding at you to signify he was listening. And him, in the way he found your constant rants about everything and nothing to be so interesting, no matter how mundane. And he revered your conversational and observation skills with what could only be described as admiration.The two of you were completely opposites. And you complimented each other quite well.

There was also you and your lack of understanding of personal space. The way you would grab a hold of Charles' arm, barely able to close your hands around his bicep. Leaning in extremely close into him to get a better look at whatever he was doing. Hugging him unabashedly in a way that left him sweating, awkwardly hovering his arms around you before stiffly returning the hug. Charles usually kept his cool, yes, but when it came to you, he was no smooth talker. His lack of proper responses to your rants could be attributed to both wanting to just listen to you talk out of pure adoration, and being unable to find his footing in a conversation with you in fear of sounding like a fool. He cared deeply for your openness with him, yet he also found himself strangely concerned with the way he came off as well. 

"Here you go!" You had approached Charles with a multitude of herbs in your basket (the same basket Charles had so skillfully weaved for you), as well as a small bouquet of wildflowers you had picked yourself. You had occupied yourself this morning by going exploring around the woods surrounding Horseshoe Overlook and foraging for anything you could find. When Charles did decide to continue the conversation on his end, you'd often hear him mention the herbs he needed for his weaponry or tonics. You'd scribble down whatever it was he needed to the best of your memory, and would surprise him with a bushel of herbs every now and then.

He took the basket from your arms, cupping the underside of it with one hand and grasping the handle with the other. 

"You got all this for me?" His voice had a tinge of disbelief, genuinely impressed you'd been able to locate everything for him. Perhaps he had underestimated your gathering skills. Not to mention, he was incredibly moved you'd gone out of your way to pick these all for him. It was no easy task. And your efforts were evident in the crumbs of dirt that stuck to your palms and knees, the dirt and grass stains on your dress, a scratch on your elbow, and a few leaves atop your head that he found absolutely adorable. And how could he possibly gloss over the bouquet of flowers. The implications were that they were his, but he still had to ask. 

"A-And these?" He cleared his throat to disguise the stutter. 

"For you, silly!" You smiled warmly at him, patting his arm. He nearly choked when you took his hand gently into yours, the sheer size difference making his brain short circuit. You led him to a boulder that sat on the overlook; the same rock you two would always sit on and talk. 

"Oh god Charles! What a day I've had!" You began. Charles knew this marked the beginning of one of your long rants. Truly, the highlight of his day. 

"First off, you know how hard it was to escape Miss Grimshaw this morning?! I thought I woke up early enough but nope! She was up well before me." You groaned. Charles chuckled and nodded in acknowledgement, occupying himself by picking up the bouquet of flowers off the rest of the herbs. Some of the stems had begun to wilt from the heat of the day, becoming muddy and dark in color, but he treasured them nonetheless. He’d make a mental note to press them later, and to teach you how in the process.

“I convinced her to let me go from camp work by saying I was going to go collect things for camp. Which technically… I did..” You giggled, motioning towards the basket. Your body language as you spoke signified how open you were. Your moved your arms animatedly and faced your palms towards him as you spoke, emphasizing any emotion behind the story. Not to mention you turned your body to face him as you spoke; your knees would touch one another and you’d be too engrossed in your story telling to notice it, but Charles certainly did. He returned any gestures, but most importantly, he held eye contact with you. Which was incredibly important to the both of you. 

Somewhere in between Charles staring at you longingly and leaning forward in a display of attentiveness, you had begun discussing your trip into town, and how you’d made note of the strange looks some of the towns people would give you for looking so grimy, especially for a woman. Charles made another mental note to return those dirty looks next time he went into town with you.

“Oh god, and then when I was at the general store I greeted Mr. Worth, and he ended up giving me a free chocolate bar! He said he was thinking about moving out west and quitting Valentine. How sad.” Your happiness over the free sweet was quickly replaced with a pout. 

“That’s a shame.” He commented. He was abashed over his lack of words, but you didn’t seem to mind as you continued. 

“I know right! Oh and also, did you see this scratch I got?” You lifted your elbow in his direction to show him. He moved his hands forward to gently take ahold of your forearm and study the cut but you moved your arm away before he could. 

“Oh don’t worry, it's just a flesh wound.” You reassured, feeling touched by his obvious concern for you. “I ended up tripping over a tree root while walking down a steep landing, fell face first! I tried to catch myself with my elbows but I just skidded down further.” Your face burned at the retelling of your ungraceful fall. But before long, you had found yourself going on a tangent about how much you struggled to find the specific types of herbs Charles needed. 

As he continued to listen to you, Charles began to think to himself how he didn’t necessarily need to force himself to speak when not needed. You were happy being listened to, and he was happy listening to you; not many people around camp would’ve been content as he was just sitting there and listening to you talk endlessly about things that happened to you or things you noticed. How he felt such tenderness for you in that moment. The twinkle in your eyes, the unruly straggle of your hair upon your neck with each movement, the way you occasionally brushed his arm with laughter that turned to snorts, the openness of your heart as you spilled yourself onto him. 

And in that moment, he knew you were the apple of his eyes.

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Lovers Rock - TV Girl

[ilyrafe]

𝒂 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒓 ✧ 𝒂. 𝒘.

pairing: august walker x f!reader

warnings: angst, sexual innuendos, this *might* turn into a series, idk…

word count: 1,6k

a/n: for context, please read sleep and three words!

visuals: y/n’s dress | cassandra’s dress | august’s suit

as he gets out of the car, august offers you his arm. you want to ask if he’s sure he wants to do this, but you lack the courage to do so. you don’t want to spoil the moment.

he didn’t explain any details, he just said he had a dinner party to go to and asked if you’d like to go with him. after three seconds of pure shock, you accepted it. and two days later, here you are, at a party with the classiest people you’ve ever seen.

the women are beautiful, and each one wears an outfit more chic and sophisticated than the other, and it’s clear they are expensive, which makes you rethink your black dress that is simple and not new.

“you look beautiful, don’t worry about it.” he says, bringing you back to reality.

“what?”

“you’re almost hiding behind me.” he chuckles.

you chuckle nervously as you go back to his side again, but you feel severely underdressed and that’s an annoying sensation.

when he puts his hand on the small of your back and guides you into the center of the party, you melt inside. it’s like he does it on purpose.

you see him greet friends and they immediately turn to you.

“who’s the girl this time, august?” one of them says with a smirk.

“this is y/n,” he responds, quite simply. “y/n, these are my work colleagues.”

you smile briefly and hold out your hand for a shake, but the unnamed man kisses the back of your hand. the woman next to him doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, she smiles at you.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you, y/n.”

“likewise.”

“we’ll see you around.” august says, almost interrupting you.

he pulls you and takes you out of there quickly, and you can tell he’s not as amused as he was a few seconds ago.

“you okay?”

“yeah. i’ll get us something to drink.” he says and leaves, leaving you alone and lost.

around you, there are so many people, and you pretend that everything is under control, and that’s when you notice the look of a woman. she’s distant, but she’s looking at you, and when you look back at her, she sighs and looks away. strange, you think. well, everything here is strange.

august returns with two glasses of champagne, and hands you one. he taps his glass lightly against yours and takes a sip. his cologne made you drunk already.

maybe this is the start of something special, you wonder. maybe you’re wrong about him, maybe he has the ability to have good feelings for other people. for you. if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have brought you to a party.

“we won’t be here for too long.” he says.

“it’s okay.”

for a few seconds, you’re able to ignore the noise and just focus on august and how particularly handsome he looks tonight. he has a good taste for clothes, and his hair is always impeccable.

you would be lying if you said you never imagined yourself with august as his partner. you know you love him already, even though you thought you’d never be interested in someone like him.

august is cold-blooded, calculating and has no interest in what does not favor him. in theory, he’s a horrible person, but there’s something about him that intrigues you. perhaps it’s because you sense there’s resistance in him to let himself feel a little. he’s motivated by revenge or anger, or both.

somehow, you don’t feel scared of him. he has never acted violent towards you. in fact, he’s careful. he doesn’t mark you, unless you ask him.

sometimes you wonder if he knows about your feelings.

your attitude towards him remains the same, but his didn’t. he’s sleeping over more, having breakfast, cuddling after sex. august is physically closer than you, he lets you touch him. he’s kissing you more.

the sex has changed, too. at first, it was just two people wanting to get off, and now you feel a real connection. it’s more romantic, more often than not.

“you’re too quiet.” he says. “do you want to go?”

“uh- no, no, i’m okay.” you smile. “who are these people?”

“people from work.”

you nod. he doesn’t elaborate and by his body language, you can tell he doesn’t like them, but tolerates them.

once again, you see the woman staring at you from afar. you’re beginning to think she wants something from you. you watch her making her way to the toilet, and you take it as a sign to follow her.

“i need to go to the ladies’ room, i won’t be long.” you tell him, and before he can say anything, you walk straight to the restroom.

when you’re in, you see no one but yourself on the mirror. you’re scared, because you don’t know who she is, and maybe you’re being betrayed by your gut.

you begin to wash your hands, and that’s when you see her reflection on the mirror, behind you. she’s stunning.

she’s wearing a gorgeous green dress, and her thick red hair only elevates her beauty.

“you came with august, didn’t you?” she asks, breaking the ice between you both.

“i did, yes.” you respond right after turning around to face her. she doesn’t seem to be angry, in fact, she seems pitiful.

“yeah... i’ve been in your place a few years ago. it’s all in your head.”

“uh... i’m sorry, i don’t think i understand... what’s your name?”

“oh, i’m sorry, i’m so rude! i’m cassandra.”

“i’m y/n,” you respond, just as distrustful as you were when you first saw her. “…why are you telling me this?”

she sighs and gives a weak, defeated laugh.

“i think it’s the feminism in me, i don’t know.” she shrugs. “you know, i fell head over heels in love with august, i thought i could change him. i thought i was the only one who could handle him, and i clearly wasn’t.” she chuckles. “he’s a manipulative liar and you’re falling for it.”

“listen, i don’t think he’s my boyfriend or anything,” you say, starting to feel defensive. why do you feel like you have to defend your relationship with august to someone you literally just met? “it’s... it’s complicated, but he’s not my boyfriend, we’re not committed, he’s not cheating on me, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“oh, you’re really naive, aren’t you?” she laughs, making you feel truly humiliated. “honey, i also had this agreement with him. it started strictly sexual and it “grew”.” she explains, making quotes in the air. “i also felt special when he brought me to this very party a few years ago.”

oh.

so... that means he’s... he didn’t…

“i saw the way you look at him, and believe me, i looked at him the same way. sure, it’s not a crime what he’s doing to you, but it’s unfair and disgusting.”

“why should i believe you, then?”

“i’m just trying to do a good deed, y’know? at the end of the day, you have every right not to believe me and move on with your life with him, but just know that it won’t last. you’re not actually special, and he’ll get tired of you. he’s just selfish and only thinks about his dick.”

cassandra has such conviction in her voice, you’re almost believing her. she must be telling the truth because only you and august know about the “agreement”.

“i... i don’t know what to say.”

“you deserve to know the truth, and he certainly won’t be the one to tell you, ‘cause august can be everything, but he’s not honest.”

you’re quiet, absorbing her words. she places her hand on your shoulder and lightly squeezes it before exiting the restroom.

(...)

“hey, you okay? i was getting worried.” august says as soon as you come back from the restroom.

“yeah, um, i’m not feeling very well. i’m gonna go home.”

august frowns, obviously noticing your sudden change of behavior. nothing gets past him.

“okay, let me just call the driv-”

“no,” you’re firm, and that’s new to him. “i’m going alone.”

you’re already looking at him with different eyes. you give him a small, fake smile and leave, and just before you exit the building, you look at cassandra, who gives you a genuine, encouraging smile.

she’s not lying.

you need time.

when you’re home, you’re quick to get ready to go to bed. even your sheets smell like him, but you don’t have the physical strength to change them now.

your head is heavy and so is your heart. how could you let yourself be fooled like this for so long? there is no one to blame but yourself, really.

“it’s all in your head.”

the feeling of humiliation is devastating, and it hits you like a wrecking ball. months of giving, giving and giving and never taking anything but crumbs. he’s good at that. he’s a dangerous man to be around.

when you’re about to fall asleep, your phone buzzes on your nightstand. his name shines on the screen, but you don’t answer his call. then he sends a text, which is rare. he’s not really a texter.

“did you get home okay?”

you ignore it and turn your phone down, but the texting doesn’t stop.

“is everything okay?”

“tell me what happened.”

“stop ignoring me.”

“y/n.”

the urge to call him back and shout that he’s an asshole is so overwhelming, you end up not doing anything. you just turn off your phone and close your eyes, hoping to have some rest and a clear head in the morning.

i love feedback! let me know your thoughts!

[saruman-the-silly]

Let me help

tags: phantom x gn!reader, hurt/comfort kind of, maybe angst? idk wanted to write something short but it got a bit longer so anyway yea :D at first a I had no clue of what Quintessence ghouls were so I googled something and I hope I got the powers right, if not, then that's on me my bad lol

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He was in so much pain. The burning had begun so suddenly, and it wasn't stopping. Why was this happening?

"PHANTOM!" He could hear some distant yelling- who was that? The voice seemed so familiar, but strange in so many ways. The burning sensation was spreading all over him and his fingertips started to tingle. It was starting to consume him, to swallow him whole until- he was pulled down abruptly, falling on to the hard and cold stone floor.

"PHANTOM, oh god, oh nononono this isn't good this is so not good- why didn't anybody prepare me for this what is going on-" Phantom, he remembered his name suddenly, groaned in pain and rolled to his side to look at you, his angel, panicking beside him. He squinted, and studied your beautiful face for a moment.

"Now hold on a minute, what just happened? I only remember trying to walk to the gardens." You smiled at him tearily, and cupped his cheek. "I thought you were gonna rip yourself in half, you idiot." You sniffled, getting him up.

"Maybe next time don't try teleporting in such a weak state, you dummy."

Phantom looked confused for a second- oh yeah, he had barely slept 3 hours last night after coming home from the tour, and yes, he did try to teleport to the gardens where he said he would meet you.

"Ah, well, yeah, that coul be the reason for it," He winced in pain, now suddenly feeling the burns over his body. You frowned, and started to walk back to your rooms, holding him upright.

"You do actually know the consequense if you exhaust yourself and go around using your powers? It's not gonna be pretty, I've heard some stories of what happened to the other ghouls after exhausting themselves and trying to use their powers." You opened the door to your room, leading Phantom in to sit on your bed. He groaned in pain when he sat down, the pain only just now fully getting to him.

"I'm sorry doll, I just wanted to see you and I thought hey, why not teleport because I hadn't just seen you in what, 3 months-" Phantom started to ramble, but you shushed him while gently smiling. You cupped his cheek, and he sighed, leaning into your touch. You leaned down, and kissed his forehead, then his cheeks before looking at his eyes.

"I missed you too. But you just need to be a little more careful, okay? I don't want you to rip yourself in half, just because you're excited to see me, darling." Phantom smiled a bit sheepishly at that, and brought your face closer to kiss you gently. "I promise I won't try to teleport again when I'm so exhausted."

"Great! Now, off with the shirt pretty boy, gotta treat those burns." He laughed, and removed his shirt. You got some ointment, and gently started applying it. Phantom shivered at the contact, and you grinned. "Cold?"

He laughed, and replied. "A little." You hummed, and applied the ointment to the worst burns. Not that you needed to do a lot actually, Phantom usually healed pretty quickly even without help, but the worst burns would leave a scar if not treated.

After you had finished, you offered him a glass of water, which he gladly drank. He flopped back down on the bed, and you laid down beside him. Both of you were quiet, just listening to each other breathe. Phantom looked to be deep in though, and when you were about to ask what's up, he opened his mouth.

"Do you ever feel like you've just not found your place?" You propped yourself on your elbows to look at him.

"Well, not really no. Why?" He sighed, and kept looking at the ceiling.

"I just feel sometimes like I'm just wandering around, trying to find a place where I truly belong. Since my summoning I've tried so hard to fit in, and yeah, I have, but, I don't know why this feeling still follows me everywhere." Phantom turned to look at you, with an unsure expression on his face. You studied his face for a moment, before replying.

"You do know that what you're feeling is super okay?" He smiled and replied: "Yeah I know, it's just a bit weird sometimes since I'm relatively new around here." You took his hand, and rubbed it comfortingly.

"Yeah, but you know, I was at first very out of place here. I felt like I was just floating through everything, and not really finding a place or people that would help me be, yknow, me?" Phantom nodded, listening.

"At first, it was awful, since I'm not good with new people or with a new, weird situation. But after settling down, I started to find things that made the whole process more fun, like you and all the other ghouls.

So what I'm trying to say here, it can be tough to find your own place in the world, and the road there can be rocky and difficult, but you will find it. I'll be there to help you find your way." Phantom smiled at that, and gently brushed a hair out of your face.

"Thank you, angel." He whispered, before gently pressing his lips to yours.

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here it iis, I'm back and alive muahahaha writer's block - 0, saruman the silly - 1

wanted to write something a little comforting, and finished this on my phone lol so sorry for any mistakes, I'll check them later

anyway love you all and thanks for reading <3