#a friendship that is So Much More than friendship

[rosinasnoot]

Relationships (general) are built on vulnerability. You get closer to someone when you are vulnerable with them and when they are vulnerable back. Telling someone something sappy is a bid for connection and it’s a risk, and it’s scary to respond in kind but at least the other person was vulnerable first.

It’s always interesting to see how people react to the opposite situation: they say something like “it’s nice of you to hang out with me” or “we’re almost there, I bet you can’t wait to get rid of me, huh?” and they’re mostly joking. Then I’ll say, “actually, I enjoy hanging out with you.” (This is partly because it’s true and partly because I always feel really bad about it afterward if I’m jokingly mean to my friends.) Sometimes they’ll just say “oh,” other times they’ll tell me I was supposed to play along, but beneath that I get the impression that they’re feeling warm friendship feelings.

honestly, the radicalizing event that made me ditch faux-ironic detachment is when I sent a hard-to-write sentimental message to someone I was (at the time) close with, and they sent the vomiting emoji back. it was like oh okay, that sucks. I am now of the opinion that it is 100x cooler and braver to be sappy with the people you care about.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

virgin loser bff!nanami had been your closest friend ever since the time in preschool when your doll’s head broke, and he came over with his toy truck, offering to play together instead.

the fact that you had such different personalities never got in the way of your friendship. you were always the most popular and social person at school, while nanami didn’t even have any friends other than you. whenever you called him over to join you, and your friends asked, “how are you even friends with this guy?” he thought it might bother you. but when you’d respond, “ken is the most important person in my life. if you have a problem with him, you can fuck off,” it made him realize just how much you truly cared about him.

to nanami, you were the most precious and beautiful thing in the world. even if he knew he didn’t deserve you, he would do anything for your affection.

it didn’t take long during high school for him to realize his feelings for you had shifted from simple friendship to what he could only describe as “real love.” the way his dick would get hard whenever you hugged him, the way he’d sweat with excitement, and the constant desire to kiss you — these were definitely not things a friend would want.

the more time he spent with you, the harder it became to suppress these feelings. he thought about confessing to you, just to get it off his chest, but he knew you’d reject him. someone like you would never look at a loser like him. besides, it would mean the end of your friendship, and he couldn’t risk that. so instead, he chose to endure it silently, watching you hang out with other guys and resigning himself to a life filled with pain and self-loathing.

until tonight.

he had no idea how it happened. maybe someone had slipped something into his coffee because there was no other explanation for why he was inside you right now. you were supposed to be out with that handsome guy from the university club, but apparently, you could only stand the date for an hour before coming home.

“you’re such an idiot, ken. how can you not see that i love you? every guy i meet, every guy i date—i’m looking for you in them, but none of them are you,” you yelled at him through your tears, and all he could do was stare at you in shock.

had you wanted him all along?

“i don’t understand…” he muttered.

you cupped his cheek with your hand, your tearful eyes locking onto his. the heat in his face was unbearable as he felt your fingers gently stroke his skin. you’d never touched him like this before.

“why don’t you see me as a woman, ken? i want you to touch me. i want to touch you.”

he wanted to—more than anything.

“you’re only doing this because your date didn’t go well. otherwise—”

“otherwise what, ken? you think i’m lying?” you snapped angrily.

nanami sighed deeply, his voice breaking as he said, “how could someone like you love someone like me? i’m just a loser.”

you never saw him as a loser. to you, he was the funniest, kindest, and most handsome man in the world. who wouldn’t fall for someone like him? you knew people didn’t want to get to know him because he was shy and quiet, but the real nanami was so much more than that.

you said with longing, “ken, kiss me.”

he tried to ignore how painfully hard he was as he stammered, “i can’t…”

“shut up and kiss me.” standing on your tiptoes, you placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned in closer. whispering again, you said, “kiss me…”

when nanami finally pressed his lips to yours, he closed his eyes. it was his first kiss, and he had no idea what to do. thankfully, you guided him, moving your lips against his, teaching him. he followed your lead, sometimes using his tongue, sometimes tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth, making you moan into his mouth as the kiss grew messy and heated.

“let’s go to your room,” you managed to whisper when your lips finally parted.

that’s when nanami started to panic. he had just had his first kiss—how was he supposed to satisfy you in bed? if something happened and you regretted it, he’d never forgive himself.

“i-i’ve never done this before,” he admitted, embarrassed.

you smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “it doesn’t matter. i just want you, ken. just kissing you is enough to make me cum. but if you don’t want to—”

before you could finish, nanami scooped you into his arms, silencing you. as he carried you to his room, he said, “of course i want to. i’ve always wanted to, angel.”

he loved calling you angel.

and that’s how it happened. now, here he was, fucking into you with uneven thrusts, his cock buried deep inside the tight heat of your pussy — something he’d dreamed about for years.

you couldn’t understand how this man hadn’t had sex before. when he was preparing you, he was like a professional. sure, his excitement made his movements a bit clumsy now, but his mouth had worshipped every inch of your pussy, giving you exactly what you needed.

“ken… you feel so good,” you moaned, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as the thickest and biggest cock you'd ever seen stretched your tight walls with audible intensity, his face buried in your neck.

“angel, this is so—so…” nanami pressed kisses to your neck, pumping into you with desperate, erratic movements.

“k-ken, i love you,” you whispered.

if this was a dream, nanami never wanted to wake up. having you like this, feeling you so deeply while you told him you loved him, it couldn’t end.

lifting his head from your neck, he straightened up, moving your legs to rest on his shoulders. gripping your thighs for support, he began thrusting faster, his hips slamming into you with a rhythm he didn’t even know he had.

“oh my god, ken—this is too much—ugh…” you could feel him in your stomach, his cock reaching places no one ever had.

“i saw this position in a porno… i always imagined fucking you like this—shit,” he confessed, his voice full of raw emotion.

“ken…” his words made you blush even harder because, for years, you’d wanted this too.

you had always wanted his thick, 8-inch cock to pound into the deepest corners of your pussy with a merciless rhythm, his sweat dripping onto your body as he claimed you completely.

“i-if i’m doing something wrong, tell me,” he said, throwing his head back with a groan. the muscles in his neck were taut, making him look unbelievably sexy. “teach me, angel, please…”

if anyone needed to be taught, it wasn’t nanami—it was you. despite his inexperience, he was giving you the best sex of your life.

“ken, if you insult yourself again—ahhh—i swear…” you gasped as he kept hitting your sweet spot over and over, your back arching off the bed. your fingers moved to your nipples, trapping them between your fingers and playing with them as you kept grinding against nanami’s cock.

“angel, i—i can’t last much longer.” your pussy was gripping him so tightly he could barely hold himself together.

still pinching your nipples, you gasped, “cum, ken.”

“fuck, i’m sorry…” he muttered.

after pumping his thick, sticky cock into your delicious pussy a few more times with quick and uneven thrusts, his grip on your thighs tightened, and he emptied himself inside you, filling you with his warm seed.

breathing heavily, he slowly lowered your legs from his shoulders to the bed and gently pulled out of you. his lips left a trail of kisses from your waist to your neck and finally to your lips. as he nuzzled his nose against yours, you closed your eyes and inhaled the scent of his woody cologne.

“you didn’t cum, did you?” he asked, regret evident in his voice.

opening your eyes, you kissed him and pulled back slightly. “you made me cum twice with your fingers and mouth, ken. trust me, i got everything i wanted.”

his cheeks flushed red. “i’m sorry, angel.”

“don’t apologize, idiot. even though you’ve never done this before, you gave me the best sex of my life. and this won’t be the last time—you’ll have plenty of chances to make me cum again.”

“do you really love me?” he asked, still unable to believe it.

“ken, if you ask me that one more time—”

“okay, okay” he said quickly, pressing a kiss to your neck before whispering, "i love you."

you looked into his bright, honey-colored eyes, placed your hands on his cheeks, and pulled him closer for a kiss. “those rumors from high school were true.”

nanami furrowed his brows. “what rumors?”

“the girls used to call you the big-dicked loser,” you said, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

nanami looked at you, utterly defeated “big-dicked loser?”

“uh-huh.”

“they talked about me?”

“ken, no matter what you wore, there was no hiding that massive thing, but thanks for giving us the view,” you said, finally unable to hold back your laughter.

“you’re welcome?” his confused response only made you laugh harder.

“i love you, big-dicked loser,” you said between laughs.

nanami didn’t respond. instead, he flipped you onto your stomach, pinning you under his weight.

“we’ll see who the loser is. get ready, angel, because this time, i’m gonna make your pussy squirt.”

you didn’t protest as he slid his still-hard cock back inside you, burying your face in the pillow and screaming from the sheer pleasure.

tag: @aishi-toru

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

dividers by @aquazero

[cinnamanz]

— ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ MAMMA MIA ⋆౨ৎ˚ .ᐟ SOPHIA LAFORTEZA

❝𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐀, 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

𝐌𝐘, 𝐌𝐘, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔?❞

there’s always been one rule in the group: don’t bring up y/n. no one really knows why, but it’s clear sophia would rather leave her ex-best friend in the past. once inseparable, their friendship dissolved after a summer camp that no one talks about, and y/n vanished, moving god-knows-where without so much as a goodbye. some say it was a fight. others say it was something more. only sophia knows the truth—or maybe not even she does. now, as the third year at dream academy begins, sophia is blindsided by y/n's unexpected return. gone is the familiar, easygoing childhood bestfriend she remembers. in her place is someone sharper, colder, and—unfortunately for sophia—hotter than ever. (who gave her the permission to look so fine?)

tags .ᐟ smau, crack, fluff, awkward idiots, grumpy x sunshine (or at least my attempt to), childhood bestfriends to lovers, theatre children, coarse language, suggestive themes, nonceleb! au, university au!, sexual jokes, mentions of substances, my writing

featuring .ᐟ katseye, p1harmony, ive, le sserafim and etc

pairing .ᐟ sophia laforteza x female reader

status .ᐟ ongoing

notes .ᐟ this smau was made for fun and entertainment. it is not an actual portrayal of the people mentioned in this smau, nor are the photos used to portray y/n. ignore timestamps. dream academy is a performing arts university. divider cred: @/adornedwithlight. TAGLIST CLOSED.

❝𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐀, 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍?

𝐌𝐘, 𝐌𝐘, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐈’𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔?❞

PROFILES

rock, paper, 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 (and keeho) — mommy day care

01. oomfchella @ school

02. dire omen

03. livin la vida loca

04. tying the noose as we speak

05. lore

06. just like old times

07. extracurricular

08. for evermore

09. best friend of the year

10. casting

more in progress!

™ CINNAMANZ 2025

[softness-and-shattering]

I think the OP message is for people who can only conceive of disabled people as burdens who givw nothing. Theyre wrong, but they also need to know they cant leave us behind, and if to reach them that needs to be phrased as "some people will never contribute and still deserve help" then so be it, meet people where they are.

Theyre still wrong. EVERYONE contributes just by being. Because you still interact with people, smile at people, thank people, provide company and companionship and friendship and partnership and perspective and experience. You even Contribute To The Economy by buying things, paying bills and rent, groceries. If all anyone values is the economy youre still contributing to it!

But most of all youre alive and thats what matters. Youre a person who has relationships that changes you and changes the people you know. and you.make things even if you never publish even if youre never famous for it, youre creating things that now exist in the world because of you. Every post you make impacts other people, interests them, makes them snort or laugh or cry or think.

Youre worth *everything* because you are human and you are alive. That worth is inherent, it doesnt need to be earned and cant be lost or taken away. You are worthy. You are valuable. Your presence makes things better for everyone - most of all yourself, but not at all exclusively.

You ran into your limits, and thats difficult and disappointing and worth mourning. And worth seeing what version of your dreams you can reform into something that might be achievable for you now.

Idk some days I feel like Ive whittled my dreams down too small and somedays theyre down to nothing. The big dreams dont go away though, just the achievable steps. Like Im not going to be a published author or well known well selling artist next week, but more days than not I can practise some technique some creativity for a few hours, a few minutes, sometimes not at all but often I can still do *something*. And yeah it hurts, my issue isnt hubris its that my ambition always wants mw to push so much harder than Im capable of and I have to reign it in so I dont overextend and then seriously crash.

However. Its a gazillion times better than giving up on my hopes and dreams entirely, I couldnt live that way at all. I have to something Im dreaming of and working towards even if Im taking tiny little steps while others with similar dreams get a vehicle and theyre stepping on the gas. I hate that I dont get a vehicle but I cant change that. I can only do what I can do, and hold onto feelings of self worth and feeling like myself when I do get to create, and connect with people, and do what makes me feel like me.

I hope this helps. Youre allowed to mourn alternate psths you didnt take or werent able to take. Grief is not only for human death. Its for all kinds of loss.

[headkiss]

anna oh anna. i see you’re taking spencer request and was wondering if you’d be willing to write something with a childhood friend visiting spencer and the team just embarrassing him cause they can tell they have feelings for each other?

love you anna💗💗

omg erin ik this request is old but i hope u love it anyway 🫶🫶 | 0.9k words of bestfriend!reid fluff!!!

Despite nearly a lifetime of friendship, today is the first time you’re visiting Spencer in Quantico.

You grew up as neighbors, and your friendship wasn’t a slow, gradual thing. Instead, one day, as a kid, you’d knocked on his door and declared him your best friend. He didn’t fight you on it, and that was it.

Whenever he goes back to Vegas to visit his mom, Spencer never fails to visit you, too. Sometimes he stays over and you fall asleep watching movies on your couch, sometimes he can’t stay any longer than a quick meal.

You talk on the phone at least once a week, and you text Spencer every day, though he rarely manages to reply with more than a smiley face because of his thing with technology. You know he reads them all, though.

All of that and still, you’d never been to Quantico until now.

Spencer always told you it wasn’t worth it, that there wasn’t all that much to see and he’d probably get called away on a case, anyway. Selfishly, you would have liked to stay in his apartment even if he was away. To snoop at all of the books he has lying around and be surrounded by him.

After much badgering over the phone, he’d finally invited you to come for a visit and you jumped at the opportunity.

Spencer’s excited to see you. He always is. But something about you coming to Quantico had always made him nervous, like if you got too close to his job, you’d be in danger. Or, less logically, like he’d have to share you with his team, in a sense, and he really liked having you to himself.

Of course, they know about you — he’s got a framed picture of the two of you as teenagers on his desk — but they’ve never met you. Spencer loves his team, and they’ve heard him speak to you on the phone and have asked him about you countless times, but so much of himself is involved in the job, and you’re almost like an escape for him.

Somewhere safe, somewhere separate.

He traces a fingertip across the top of the frame on his desk when the elevator beeps, and the sound of your footsteps reach his ears. He knows it’s you from those alone.

Spencer stands just as you reach the bullpen, and as soon as you spot him you let out a tiny squeal and rush over. He welcomes you into his arms easier than he does anyone else, your arms tight around his neck, his supporting the small of your back.

“Hi, Spence,” you say, cheek against his shoulder, smile in your voice.

“Hi,” he returns, his mouth a breath away from your hair.

Garcia and JJ are standing by the entryway of the bullpen, watching you and Spencer with these knowing looks on their faces. Emily walks up a moment later, just as you pull away from the hug and ruffle Spencer’s hair.

“Is that…?” she asks.

“Yup,” JJ says.

“And they’re just friends?” Emily adds.

“According to them.”

“Sweet, clueless creatures,” comes from Penelope.

Unaware, or maybe just uncaring, of your audience, you fiddle with Spencer’s tie, then his vest, “Look at you. So professional.”

“I actually dress like this most of the time.”

“And look at your badge!” You flick it where it’s clipped to his pocket. “Can I have one?”

“You’re wearing a visitor’s badge.”

“So not as cool.” You scan your eyes across his desk, pausing at the picture of the two of you. You hadn’t known that was there, and your heart squeezes a bit at the thought of him keeping it where he can see it. “Did you just put that picture there for my visit?”

“Of course not,” he scratches the back of his neck lightly. “It’s always been there. They like to tease me about it.”

“Spence,” you start, eyes flicking over his face. You want to say something stupid and cheesy about how sweet he is, about how warm that makes you feel. Instead, you say “You’ve even got your glasses on. Very smart, Dr. Reid.”

Back by the entrance, Rossi and Morgan join the others. “Reid’s friend from home?” Dave checks.

“Uh-huh,” Garcia nods.

“And they’re still just friends?” Derek points between the two of you.

JJ, Emily, and Garcia all nod.

“Kids,” Rossi sighs.

You push Spencer’s glasses back up his nose gently. “Or should I say, the resident boygenius.”

“How did you-”

“Oh, I met Penelope in the elevator. She’s lovely.” You turn around and wave at her.

She waves back, beaming.

It’s then that Spencer realizes the entire team has been watching your exchange all along. He closes his eyes and huffs before taking you over to them and introducing you, even though he’s aware they know who you are.

Derek turns his charm on a little extra when he says hello to you, and Spencer’s hands twitch at his sides, his brows scrunched.

When JJ and Garcia distract you with a story that’s sure to be an embarrassing one, Morgan nudges Spencer’s shoulder with his, “She’s pretty great.”

“She’s the best person I know.”

Derek doesn’t even pretend to be wounded at that. He only grins like he knows something.

Hotch watches through the window of his office, that barely-there upward tug of his mouth on his face. He hasn’t seen Spencer smile the way he does with you in a long time.

[bigmoon-is-bigwife]

Ros said the reason she thinks she become friends with Clown is because off stream she hit an enderman and almost died so she logged out and asked him to kill it and he did. This was after the first day where she had already lost 2/3 of her lives and that would have resulted in her permadeath had Clown not saved her. I think this was the moment it became very apparent to Clown that Ros was not very experienced in the game and could use some help. I think this is why Clown started checking in with her at the castle and gave her building blocks from the nether when she was too scared to go on one life.

Ros is a builder at heart and has openly admitted she has learned more about minecraft mechanics on The Realm than her entire time playing the game before. Clown has always seemed very careful to not be condescending with her but it is funny seeing some of that realization in real time that Ros is very new to playing survival minecraft with a risk of dying. I think he's so used to playing with more experienced players he forgot what an average player is like. I think one of the funniest moments was when he asked Ros "Are you eating rotten flesh???" and she responded with "No...it's raw chicken :(" and so he gave her some golden carrots because that is not good food. Soon after that Ros realized that golden carrots were way better and started making her own and now she's no longer starving all the time.

Ros has improved sooo much from the start of the server where she almost perma-died within like two days of the server and now she's more confident and less likely to die on own! And that is from learning from various players, including Clown. It's been so fun seeing their friendship grow from that chance encounter off stream. I think Ros's time on the server would have been very different had that not happened.

[missmimii]

୨ৎ－𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐄 | 𝐂 －𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | In which Chris leaves the reader craving more than the usual nods of approval, the girl begins to wonder—how far is she willing to go to hear the words she so desperately needs?

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. 18+, Voyeur!Chris/Dom!Chris, praising, pet names, detailed sexual encounter, light degradation, face grabbing, fingering, dom + sub dynamics (and probably more but I’m tired.)

Chris knew Y/n.

The boy had liked watching her more than he’d ever care to admit. Almost as if she were his prey. Through their 8 gruelling years of friendship, Chris had chalked the girl down into one word. Perfect. She didn’t get angry, maybe frustrated, but never angry. He knew the way she blew her hair away from her nose when she was drawing, the way her hands wrung together when she was nervous－he even knew her favourite brand of lingerie to buy from. She was such a sweet little thing, timid and loving toward the boy since the day they’d met in middle school.

Chris had always been good at reading people, and with her, it hadn’t taken him long to figure out the girl’s little secret. It was in the way the girls’s eyes lit up whenever he tossed her a casual “Good job,” or how her cheeks flushed when he complimented her outfit, even if it was something simple. She tried to hide it—laughing off his words like they meant nothing—but the soft smile she couldn’t quite suppress always gave her away. It was subtle at first, but once he noticed, he couldn’t stop. And honestly? Watching her glow under his praise was something he didn’t mind one bit.

And use it to his advantage occasionally.

“Chris,” she sobbed out softly, tears gathering along her water-line as she started at him with a pitiful expression. The boy almost cooed at the sorrowful sight of the girl, sprawled out weakly, a hand between her thighs as she gently swirled her fingers around her fluttering hole.

She watched as Chris’s hooded eyes roamed her face along with the exceptional fleeting gaze to her glistening cunt, a hand running down his clenched jaw as he leaned back in the chair he used as a throne. If it weren’t for his raging, visible hard on, the girl would’ve almost thought he was bored.

His expression lacked any emotion, and she couldn’t decipher whether or not her body loved it－or hated it. “Please . . Please－” her head fell back onto his pillows, the tears that pleaded to fall finally descending down her flushed cheeks. She shakily ran the tips of her fingers down her soaked slit, pressing down gently－clueless on what to do.

The worst part was she could feel his eyes on her. Not only was she shy, but he was watching her suffer, and refused to help. “Keep going.” She sniffed at his words, almost wanting to shake her head as her hand shook. It didn’t feel like him. “You don’t want me to come the fuck over there.” He threatened. I kindaaa do, she thought to herself.

Holding the snarky remark, she slowly began to ease her middle finger inside of her pulsing heat, moaning gently. “Mm . . . That’s a good girl.” Fuck. A broken whine tore from her throat, making Chris chuckle as she worked her finger faster. It hurts so good, Chris thought to himself.

As much as he’d like to stalk over there and get on top of her －give it to her like no other, he felt an odd sense of pleasure in seeing her writhe, struggle. Chris’s throat bobbed as he palmed over his strained jeans, grunting under his breath as his eyes fluttered. God, he needed to fuck her.

Lost in her own pleasure, she didn’t even pick up on the sound of his steps getting closer to her sprawled out body, or the warmth of his larger stature beginning to melt atop hers. Chris chuckled softly to himself, seeing her parted lips, drool slipping from her beautiful mouth as she panted.

Her eyes shot open as a palm pressed over her mouth, gasp eliciting her lips as she met eyes with the brown haired boy. “Shhhhh . . .” Strands of his slightly－yet perfectly outgrown hair fell above his eyebrows. A dark look, sheer over his pupils as he deepened his gaze into her, boring into her shy ones with intensity.

“Look at me,” he demanded gently as her gaze faltered from his nervously. “Be a good girl and look at me, hm?” Chris hummed as her pupils dilated, automatically attached to his as the soft praise left his bitten lips. “Thasss’ a good baby,” she blinked slowly at his words her smaller hand coming up to grip onto his wrist for security. “Yeah, just like that.” Her eyes widened as she felt his other hand mold atop hers, guiding two of her fingers into her pussy slowly. “Hold on f’me.” Fuck.

Chris smirked sadistically, watching her eyes flutter and roll back, her teeth biting into his palm. “How’s that?” He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, hooded eyes glued to hers as his thumb rolled over her clit. “Better?” Chris mocked gently, leaning down and placing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Hm?” She attempted to get her words out, but they ended up a jumbled mess of incoherent sentences.

“Just shut up.”

A moan left her muffled lips, making Chris scoff. “You like that?” He ran his thumb across his cheek, before it met the supple skin of her bottom lip. Her chest heaved, no response leaving her mouth as he gazed into his eyes heavily.

Chris tilted his head, cooing ever so softly, as he felt the walls of her tight cunt squeezing around his long fingers. “Oh, baby.” A broken whine came from her lips, more tears falling as he lowered his lips to her ear. Chris’s jaw brushed against her’s, the curve of his perfect nose running down the angle of her pulse. “I almost would’ve felt bad if this wasn’t so pathetic.” He uttered gently, nipping at her neck.

Lost in a haze of pleasure, she barely even noticed how Chris’s fingers slowly released from her sopping heat. Right before she came. “Wait－wait－wait－please,” Her eyes batted open, hand fumbling to grab his wrist. Chris tutted softly, grabbing the hand and holding it above her head. “Ah, ah.” Chris practically pried her hands off of him. “I helped, now it’s your turn.”

He watched as a perplexed expression crossed her features. My turn? He was helping me, she thought. “Don’t argue.” He interjected before she could even utter a word. Chris stalked back to his seat, adjusting himself as he began to undo his belt. “What’re you waiting for, hm?” Chris tilted his head, jaw ticking with a smirk as he toyed with the buckle.

“Be a good girl and touch yourself.”

🏷️－୨ৎ－ @fratbrochrisgf @jetaimevous @sturniolosarethebest @stonermattsgf @st7rnioioss @endereies @pkfferoo @mqttittude @mattsbrowser @conspiracy-ash @sturnshood

[konigsblog]

more loser könig plsplsplsplsplspsllsps😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Loser!König doesn’t understand boundaries or personal space, especially when you have been best friends since childhood. He almost expects you to do whatever he asks of you - including sucking him off when he complains about not being able to get laid.

What do you mean he can’t practice kissing you? You’re best friends! Don’t you want to help him prepare? You might wake up with him kissing down your neck, leaving dark hickeys along your bare skin, his teeth digging into your flesh with one arm tugging you in closer as he pleads with you to stay still.

Loser!König can’t differentiate your friendship between a romantic relationship. I mean, you stay over at his house 24/7, spend every waking hour together, and get mistaken as a couple often. He has lied to people in the past about being in a relationship with you, only for him to give you the cold shoulder when you confront him about the rumours, forcing you to apologise for his creepiness to not ruin the bond you two share.

Loser!König is a toxic best friend. You can’t have any other friends, female or male, he doesn’t care. You have him, and he’s more than enough. Almost too much, sometimes. Even when you make friends with someone online, he’ll ignore you until you give in and block them. And when you bring up joining dating apps, he yells at you for being so insensitive and cruel.

You know he can’t get into a relationship, Maus. It would break his poor heart to see you in a relationship. You’ve got each other, and that’s enough.

[gothmogzilla]

tl/dr: You are correct: and I have proof. Story below about codependent drama-mongers that ended up long-term married below. So, I had two separate busybody assholes causing drama in their separate social circles. Both of them were NEET losers (not losers because of being NEETs--but I will hold being NEETs against them, because they caused me great grief.). They both had way too much time on their hands--again NEETs--one was harassing their ex (my friend), the other was harassing their bff (also my friend)'s amicable ex, and turning the amicable ex, into a non-amicable ex. I, knowing these assholes were codependant af, and sick and tired of weeping sessions from my friends (the ex being harassed, and the bff who was losing two precious friendships to the drama-mongering)--decided to put them together and tell them not to date. I staged it as "Oh, the other person is waaay lonely because xyz, and just really needs a friends, but I'm out of state." All of which was true and sincere--however, I left my contempt unsaid. Well, within two hours of hanging out, those two turds (happening to be of compatible sexual orientation) had kissed. (I'm not supposed to know this, but their 'friends' are more loyal to me than to them, and I feel like that says something about how they treat others.) I was told they were hanging out for a week before they kissed. Immediately engaged and married, and they have been married for over 15 years and have multiple children. They are both still posting angsty-ass shit, and their marital problems (which are always worked out after some public drama) continue to entertain me. I would like to note that the tWo wHoOOOOoLe weeks of one of them being gone were absolute facebook novels. I sometimes feel terrible for their children, and pray to the Adulting Gods regularly that reasonable adults will be there to guide them through life. Yet, I cannot say that I have regrets. They are both as happy as they can be--which they can never be happier unless they choose to let go of some shtuff. Also, no use ruining two good couples. And they provide enough drama in their two-person circle to prevent drama-mongering amongst polite society. P.S. I know how judgmental and non-sympathetic this reblog sounds, but BRO. If you had been where I was, on those late-night phone calls with the 7 friends and family members who were SUFFERING because of the actions of these two people, and my own suffering, talking to both of these individuals separately, who were refusing to be empathetic and change their behaviors, even when directly confronted--I think you'd be non-sympathetic as well. P.P.S. Codependency, like any mental health symptom, is not the problem. The problems with there behaviors are/were 1) not accepting others boundaries, 2) Refusing to work on yo'self. 3) Refusing to work on yourself WHEN YOU ARE ACTIVELY CAUSING HARM to others.

hate hate hate when people write previously fucked up codependent weird relationships as mellowing out completely after a year or two of being together, or, even worse, after the first kiss. like who do you think you are to make them normal. theyre going to be even worse because now there's two of then and theyre working in tandem

[delulustateofmind]

Terms and Conditions Apply

Yan!SatoSugu x Reader - unwholesome edition

Sum: Normal college roommate activities, except your roommates, are madly in love with you and have a really weird way of showing it.

TW: Yandere Behaviors (manipulation, obsessive, possessive,etc), Omorashi/Piss, noncon/dubcon, oral (m! receiving), Abuse of showerhead, Reader is a bit dense, Power Dynamics, Alcohol consumption, unhealthy relationships, Infantilization, MDNI

WC: 6.0k

A/n: I will probably finish editing the wholesome edition later this week. :) I feel like I've been too angsty lately and I lowkey prefer the wholesome version a bit more, however, my beta reader likes this one so we'll see!

How far is one willing to go?

Willing to sell their soul to the devil—or in this case, devils. The ones you once called your best friends. The ones who stripped you of your rights because you owed them. Because they owned you.

Suguru and Satoru—two trust fund kids with more money than they could ever spend—had waltzed into your life during your freshman year of college, offering friendship cloaked in charm and generosity.

They’d given you a place to stay, sliding a 52-page lease across the table. A document so thick and dense that it had made your stomach turn. Your heart, your instincts, your very soul screamed at you to stop. To read between the lines. But you didn’t.

You trusted them. You ignored the red flags.

You brushed off the subtle proclamations of love buried in their actions, their words, their very presence. How they’d spoke of living up to your standards. How they hinted they’d have truly courted you—if only you’d given them the time of day.

But you didn’t. You dismissed their flirting as harmless.

And like any rich men who refused to be denied, they did the next best thing. They bought you.

You really should’ve let them court you.

Because if you had, maybe you wouldn’t be here now—trapped in their twisted acts of devotion. Acts they called love.

Satoru, with his dazzling grin and sharp blue eyes, always joked about wanting a dog. Something to take care of, to love him unconditionally, to always come when called.

Suguru, ever composed and calculating, never hid his desire for control. He wanted something—or someone—to care for, to command, to obey his every word.

And now, that someone was you.

You’d gone too far for free rent, hadn’t you?

It was almost funny, in a cruel way. You’d joked once about selling feet pics to creepy old men to make ends meet, and Satoru had flashed you that sharp, wolfish grin and asked, “How much?”

You’d laughed it off, calling him ridiculous. But he hadn’t been joking. Not even a little.

If you had said a number, he would have bought them on the spot, saving them for later use. 

When you couldn’t afford drinks on karaoke night, you’d waved it off, saying you’d be fine with water. But Suguru had just smiled, handing over his black card without hesitation.

“Don’t worry about it,” he’d said, his voice smooth, almost tender.

The whole night, he had coddled you, his arm a steady weight around your waist as you sang along to the music. When you were tipsy and laughing, stumbling into him, he’d pulled you onto his lap, his hands lingering just a little too long.

You didn’t notice.

You didn’t notice how his hands trailed along your thighs, how he tilted his head closer to catch the scent of your perfume, how his dark eyes gleamed with something dangerous.

They loved you.

They loved you so much that buying you was the easiest option.

Kidnapping you would have been messy, after all.

This? This was clean.

A lease. A signature. A series of favors and debts that quietly piled up until you were ensnared—unable to leave or even think about leaving.

You thought of them as just weird, quirky roommates. That’s what you kept telling yourself.

Satoru had the habit of barging into your room unannounced, sprawling across your bed like it was his own. He’d hug your pillows to his chest, burying his face in them, his bright blue eyes gleaming with amusement.

And behind your back?

He punched and slapped every single one of your stuffed animals.

All except for the ones he bought you.

Like the stuffed alligator he’d gifted you last month. “Because you’re so snappy,” he’d said with a wide grin, teasing you endlessly as he mimicked your glare. “And because you do those little alligator rolls when I try to cuddle you.”

He wasn’t lying. You did twist and squirm to escape his grip whenever Suguru was away, and Satoru found himself “too lonely” to sleep in a big bed all by himself.

“I need you,” he’d whine, tugging at your blanket as he wedged himself onto your mattress. “Friends can cuddle, y’know. It’s even in the lease—clause 22!”

You’d scoffed, rolling your eyes. “There’s no way that’s real.”

But, of course, you hadn’t read the lease.

You hadn’t read clause 22, clause 34, or any other fine print buried in those 52 pages.

If you had, maybe you’d have noticed the way they’d written their love into the lines of the contract. The way their obsession had been framed as something so mundane, so harmless, that you never thought to question it.

Instead, you dismissed it. Dismissed them.

They were just your weird, clingy roommates, right?

That’s what you told yourself every time Satoru squeezed the stuffed alligator to his chest, grinning as he teased, “See? It’s like me and you! You’re the snappy little gator, and I’m the big, lovable guy keeping you from biting anyone else.”

It was playful. Harmless, you managed to convince yourself.

But sometimes—especially in the dead of night, when the world was quiet, and there was nowhere to hide from the truth—you struggled to ignore the way his hands would wander.

How he’d press open-mouthed kisses against your chest, the wet heat of his lips leaving trails along your skin. The way his hands would squeeze your plush breasts, fingers digging in just a little too roughly, as if claiming them, claiming you, in his sleep.

You told yourself he was dreaming—lost in some haze where he thought you were someone else, or something else.

But when morning came, and you hesitantly brought it up, he’d blink at you with feigned innocence, his blue eyes wide and unbothered. “Did I really?” he’d ask, laughter bubbling just beneath the surface of his words. “Man, I must’ve been dreaming about something really good.”

His grin would widen, that devil-may-care attitude making you question if you’d imagined it all.

“Hey,” he’d say, throwing an arm around your shoulders as he steered you out the door, “let’s grab breakfast. My treat. Consider it a ‘thanks’ for not ripping my arm off in my sleep.”

The offer, so casually given, left you with no choice but to follow. To let him guide you down the street to the café he liked, where he’d order for you without asking—a gesture that felt less thoughtful and more… presumptive.

As he filled the table with plates of food you hadn’t asked for, his laughter echoing through the small, bustling space, you found yourself playing along. Smiling at his jokes, laughing when he wanted you to, pretending that everything was normal.

Because what else could you do?

Confronting him felt impossible. Denying him? Even more so.

It was easier this way—going along with the current, letting him pull you wherever he wanted, feeding you bites of his food like you were some cherished pet rather than a person with agency of your own.

“Open up,” he’d coo, holding a forkful of syrup-drenched pancake to your lips, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction when you complied. “Good girl.”

And you’d swallow it down, the sweetness coating your tongue as his praise sent a shiver crawling along your skin.

Because it was easier to pretend.

Easier to act like this was just how things were—how they’d always been.

But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself, the question lingered, heavy and unavoidable:

How far were you willing to go?

You kept telling yourself to endure. Just two more years until you graduate. Two more years, and you’ll be free.

You could play along until then. You had to. You needed the cheap rent.

And it wasn’t like you could even prefer one of them over the other. They were equally clingy, equally overbearing in their own ways.

Suguru, at least, had the decency not to invade your space outright.

He never barged into your room unannounced like Satoru. He didn’t sprawl across your bed or bury his face in your pillows. No, Suguru was different. His methods were quieter, subtler.

Whenever Satoru left for the weekend to visit his family, it was Suguru who kept you company. He’d coax you onto the couch with him, his deep voice laced with calm reassurance.

“You’ll keep me company, won’t you?” he’d ask, his tone so soft, so genuine, that refusing felt impossible.

And before you knew it, you’d find yourself in his lap, his strong arms wrapping firmly around your waist as he leaned back, settling you against his chest.

“It soothes me,” he’d murmur, his voice low and almost apologetic. “I’ve been so stressed with my master’s lately. You don’t mind, do you?”

How could you say no?

Suguru always had a way of making his needs sound so reasonable, so innocent. You didn’t even think to question it—not until his hands started to linger. His thumbs would trace small, deliberate circles against your hips, his breath warm against the back of your neck.

Clause 12.

That’s what he’d called it the first time you hesitated.

“Roommate will always provide emotional comfort,” he’d said, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips as his dark eyes held yours.

You hadn’t read the lease, of course. But when Suguru spoke, his voice so calm and assured, it was hard not to believe him.

So you let him hold you.

You let him keep you there for hours, his hands warm and steady as they rested on your waist, his quiet hums vibrating against your back. You sat frozen, unsure of where the line had blurred—or if there had ever been a line at all.

Things changed after one night.

You’d gone out for drinks with some friends—a rare occurrence these days. Between their constant presence and your dwindling social circle, opportunities like this had become few and far between.

Maybe that’s why you drank more than you should have.

The alcohol buzzed warmly through your veins, leaving your mind foggy and your limbs loose as laughter spilled freely from your lips. You didn’t even notice how late it had gotten until someone pointed it out, and the world tilted slightly as you tried to check the time on your phone.

“Shit,” you mumbled, your voice slurred as you stared at the blurry screen. You scrolled to Satoru’s contact—he always answered first—and hit call.

When they arrived, it was like the entire bar shifted.

“Oh my God, those are your roommates?” one of your friends teased, dragging out the words as she nudged you with a playful grin. “You’ve been holding out on us! Are you playing games or something?”

A giggle bubbled out of you as you swayed in your seat, the room spinning slightly. “Nooo,” you slurred, shaking your head a little too hard. “They’re just—”

Before you could finish, Satoru’s tall frame appeared in front of you, crouching down to your level. “Having fun, huh?” he asked, his bright blue eyes glinting with something unreadable.

You buried your face in his shirt, giggling uncontrollably. “Satoruuu,” you slurred, your voice high-pitched and childlike. “I’m fineeee. I was just… just hanging out!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he said, chuckling as he shifted you in his arms, holding you upright as your legs wobbled.

Meanwhile, Suguru quietly slipped away to the bar, his expression calm and collected as he handed over his black card to settle your tab. When he returned, his eyes gleamed with something dark, though his lips curved into a faint smile as he glanced at your friends.

“Ah, sorry we haven’t announced we’re dating yet,” he said smoothly, his voice low, a grin playing at his lips.

The table erupted into laughter and cheers, glasses clinking together in celebration.

You blinked slowly, your alcohol-heavy mind struggling to process his words. “Wait… what?”

You tried to straighten up, but Satoru’s grip on you tightened, pulling you back against him. “Shh, don’t make a scene,” he murmured, his voice light and teasing, though the edge to his grin made your stomach twist.

“He’s joking,” you said, slurring as you waved a hand lazily. “You’re jokinnng, right, Suguru?”

But Suguru’s smile didn’t falter. He leaned closer, his hand resting on the small of your back as he said softly, “Does it sound like I’m joking?”

Your friends erupted into louder laughter, their voices blurring together as your head spun.

“Let’s get you home,” Satoru said brightly, steering you toward the door.

You were too drunk to argue, your body slumping against his as the cool night air hit your face.

“You didn’t have to say that,” you mumbled, your words barely coherent as Suguru helped you into the car.

“Say what?” he asked, sliding in beside you, his voice calm and measured.

“That… we’re dating,” you slurred, your head lolling against Satoru’s shoulder as he climbed in on your other side.

Satoru laughed, his hand ruffling your hair as he pulled you closer. “Oh, come on. It’s not a big deal. Besides, they loved it. Right, Suguru?”

Suguru’s hand brushed lightly against your knee, steady and deliberate. His dark eyes met yours in the dim glow of the streetlights. “Does it bother you?” he asked, his voice soft, almost tender.

You tried to answer, your lips parting, but your mind was too foggy, your tongue too heavy. The alcohol clouded your thoughts, dulling the sharp edges of your confusion and concern. The only sound you managed was a quiet, slurred mumble before sleep tugged at your consciousness.

When you woke up, the world felt too soft, too still.

Your eyes fluttered open, the dim light of early morning filtering through unfamiliar curtains. The silk sheets beneath you were far too luxurious, the plush mattress beneath your body a stark contrast to your usual bed.

You sat up slowly, a pounding headache hammering at your skull as the events of the night before came back to you in blurry flashes. The bar. Your friends. Satoru. Suguru.

And now this.

Waking up in their bed was unexpected.

You winced as the urge to pee hit you, the discomfort pulling you fully awake. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, your bare feet brushing against the cool floor as you prepared to stand. But before you could rise, a hand shot out, gripping your wrist.

The sudden tug sent you back onto the mattress, your heart skipping a beat as you turned to see who it was.

Satoru.

His snowy white hair was messy, his eyes still half-lidded with sleep as he pulled you closer to him, his grip firm but not painful.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled, his voice groggy yet tinged with something along the lines of annoyance.

“I… I need to pee,” you stammered, your voice hoarse as you tried to free yourself from his grasp.

Satoru’s eyes opened fully then, his bright blue gaze locking onto yours. He looked at you for a long moment before his lips curved into a sleepy grin. “Mmm, can’t you wait a little longer? It’s too early to get up.”

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, heavy and unmoving, trapping you in place. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him, as if he were anchoring you there.

“I’m serious…” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to squirm away, but his grip didn’t loosen.

Instead, you felt his grin against the back of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“Shhh,” he murmured, his voice soft and drowsy but carrying that familiar edge of control. “You’ll wake up Sugu… You can wait.”

The mention of Suguru made you freeze, your eyes darting toward the other side of the bed.

Sure enough, there he was.

Suguru lay on his side, his face calm and serene in sleep, his dark hair spilling over the pillow. His breathing was deep and even, the rise and fall of his chest almost hypnotic.

“You don’t want to wake him, do you?” Satoru hummed, his voice low and teasing, though there was something almost mocking in the way he said it.

You swallowed hard, the weight of the situation settling heavily over you as Satoru’s arms remained firmly around your waist. He shifted slightly, nuzzling into the back of your neck like a contented cat.

“Just relax,” he murmured, his voice already trailing off as sleep pulled him back under.

You lay there, stiff and silent, the dull ache in your bladder forgotten as your mind raced.

The warmth of their bodies on either side of you, the sound of their steady breathing, the oppressive weight of Satoru’s arm around your waist—it was suffocating.

But you didn’t move.

You couldn’t.

Because somewhere deep down, beneath the haze of confusion and discomfort, a single, chilling thought crept into your mind:

They weren’t going to let you go.

And for now, it was easier to stay still. To let Satoru’s grip keep you in place, to let Suguru’s presence loom quietly beside you.

To endure.

Because what other choice did you have?

You waited an hour. Generously. The way your bladder felt like it was going to spill if you even moved an inch made it agonizing, but what else could you do?

Why did I have to drink so much? you thought bitterly, biting your lip to keep yourself from groaning.

“Satoru…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, tinged with a small, desperate whine.

No response.

His soft snores filled the room, and you felt the faintest flutter of hope when you realized his arm had gone slack around your waist. It was loose enough—just enough—that you might be able to slip free without waking him.

Carefully, you began to move, inch by inch.

You winced at the painful, overfull feeling in your bladder, a burning reminder that if you waited even a second longer, you were sure you’d humiliate yourself. The thought of staining such expensive, silken sheets filled you with dread.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to wriggle out of Satoru’s grip. He stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling back into his slumber.

You held your breath as you slid off the bed, crossing your legs tightly as you stood. The sensation made you want to scream, but you forced yourself to stay quiet, moving as carefully as you could across the room.

You reached the bathroom door, relief flooding through you as your hand grasped the handle.

But when you turned it, the handle didn’t budge.

It was locked.

Your stomach dropped, a cold wave of panic washing over you as you tried again, jiggling the handle more forcefully this time.

Still locked.

You glanced over your shoulder, your heart pounding as you looked back at the bed. Satoru hadn’t moved, his snores still soft and steady. Suguru remained motionless, his dark hair spilling over his pillow like ink.

You turned back to the door, biting your lip hard enough to sting. Why the hell was it locked?

You tried again, pressing your weight against the door this time, but it wouldn’t give.

Panic began to rise in your chest as you crossed your legs tighter, your body screaming at you for relief. You couldn’t go back to the bed—not now, not like this. You couldn’t face them if something went wrong.

Your bathroom was… across the apartment.

You could make it, right? You just had to waddle your way there.

The thought alone filled you with dread, but what choice did you have? The idea of pissing yourself in your weird roommates’ bedroom—on their luxurious, expensive sheets, no less—was enough to make your face burn with humiliation.

A soft, desperate whine escaped your throat as you shifted your weight. It’s too much.

But you had to try.

You moved carefully, every step a torturous mix of sharp, burning pressure and overwhelming panic. Your breaths came shallow and uneven, your legs trembling as you shuffled forward, praying the noise wouldn’t carry back to the bedroom.

It was just the hallway, the living room, and then the bathroom.

Easy, you told yourself, though the pounding of your heart and the sting of tears in your eyes screamed otherwise.

You barely made it to the end of the hallway before your legs gave out, your body sinking to the cold floor as a sob built in your throat.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, the humiliation of the situation crashing over you like a wave. You couldn’t stop them, hot streaks rolling down your cheeks as you clutched at your stomach, the pressure unbearable.

Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t the door just unlock? Why couldn’t you have made it just a little farther?

You pressed your forehead against your knees, trying to muffle the soft, broken whimpers escaping your lips. The silence of the apartment felt suffocating, every sound you made echoing in your ears like a cruel reminder of just how trapped you were.

And then, the sound you dreaded most.

Footsteps.

Slow, deliberate, heavy against the hardwood floors.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as the footsteps grew louder, closer.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Suguru’s voice was soft, calm, almost soothing, but it made your stomach twist into knots.

You didn’t lift your head, your body trembling as his presence loomed over you. You could feel his gaze, heavy like he could see straight through you.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, crouching down so he was at eye level with you. His tone was steady, almost kind, but there was an edge to it that made your chest tighten.

“I… I just…” Your voice cracked, the words stumbling over themselves as you tried to think of an excuse, something that wouldn’t make this worse.

Suguru tilted his head, his dark hair falling over his shoulder as his sharp eyes scanned you. “You could’ve just woken me up if you needed something,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small, affectionate smile.

Before you could respond, another voice chimed in.

“She’s crying.”

You flinched at the familiar, teasing lilt of Satoru’s voice, your heart sinking further as you felt him approach.

“Aw, did we scare her?” he teased, his grin audible in his voice as he crouched beside Suguru, his bright blue eyes gleaming with amusement.

“It’s not that,” Suguru murmured, his gaze never leaving you. “She’s upset.”

“Hmm,” Satoru hummed, leaning in closer, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with something that made your chest tighten. “Why’s that, little gator? What’s got you all worked up, huh?”

You wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and vanish entirely. Anything to escape their piercing stares, the weight of their presence pressing down on you like a cage.

But then, you felt it.

The warmth spreading beneath you, dampening the hardwood floor.

Your breath caught in your throat as the realization struck you like a tidal wave. You’d pissed yourself.

Silent tears trickled down your cheeks, shame and humiliation crashing over you in waves as you dared a glance at Suguru.

His dark eyes flicked down to the wet patch spreading across the floor.

And then he smiled.

Not his usual small, measured smile, but something broader. Something that sent a wave of goosebumps.

Satoru followed Suguru’s gaze, his brows lifting in surprise before his grin widened into something almost predatory. “Well, would you look at that,” he murmured, his tone light and teasing but laced with something darker.

Suguru tilted his head slightly, his sharp eyes meeting yours as he spoke.

“Clause 52,” he said softly, his voice calm and steady, like he was reciting something he’d known by heart.

Your stomach knotted further, anxiety pooling. You really should have took time to read the absurdly long lease.

“‘If a roommate is deemed unfit to take care of themselves, it becomes the other parties’ duty to assume full care of the roommate, gaining full autonomy over the party deemed unfit.’”

The words were a death knell, ringing in your ears as your tears fell faster.

“Unfit,” Satoru repeated, his tone dripping with mockery as he leaned closer, his hand gentle as it brushed a tear from your cheek. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think, Suguru?”

Suguru’s smile didn’t falter, his dark eyes steady as his hand came to rest on your trembling shoulder. “It’s not harsh if it’s true,” he replied softly, his voice almost tender, but the weight of his words crushed any chance of denial. “She clearly needs us.”

“I’m fine,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you tried to push away the rising panic. You clung to the last shreds of your dignity, your hands trembling as you tried to wipe your tears. “It was an accident. I just—”

“You just proved you can’t take care of yourself,” Suguru interrupted, his grip tightening slightly, his words cutting through your feeble attempts at an excuse.

Satoru chuckled, leaning against you, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something darker. “You know,” he started, his tone almost conversational, “we could have enacted Clause 52 sooner.”

Your breath hitched, your eyes darting to him as he tilted his head, his grin widening.

“I mean, your grades this semester? Not exactly stellar.” He chuckled, shaking his head as if scolding a child. “And let’s not forget that blunt you took from Shoko a few months back. You do know weed is very illegal in Japan, right?”

The blood drained from your face as he spoke, your mind scrambling to keep up with his words.

“Could’ve gone to jail,” Suguru added, his voice calm and matter-of-fact as he straightened, his hand leaving your shoulder only to slide under your legs.

You yelped as he scooped you up effortlessly, your body trembling as you tried to claw away from him, your hands weakly pushing against his chest.

“But a grown woman pissing herself?” Satoru said, standing and shaking his head as he followed Suguru toward the bathroom. “Now that’s a pretty clear sign you need help. I mean, we’d be neglecting you if we didn’t take care of you at this point.”

“Put me down!” you cried, your voice breaking as you struggled against Suguru’s hold, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Shh,” Suguru murmured, his grip unyielding as he carried you down the hall. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”

Tears blurred your vision as the door to their bathroom came into view, the realization of just how powerless you were sinking in with every step.

Tears blurred your vision as the door to their bathroom came into view, the realization of just how powerless you were sinking in with every step.

“We’ll clean you up,” Satoru said brightly, his grin firmly in place as he swung the bathroom door open. His tone was light and teasing, but the words twisted in your stomach. “That’s what good boyfriends—sorry, roommates—do, right?”

Suguru carried you inside without hesitation, his movements smooth and calculated, like he’d done this a hundred times in his head. He set you down gently on the edge of the bathtub, his hands lingering on your arms as though steadying you. The care in his touch felt unnervingly intimate, blurring lines you hadn’t even realized were being crossed.

“I don’t need—” you started, your voice trembling, but Suguru cut you off.

“Do we need to treat you like a child too?” He hummed as he turned on the water, you noticed Satoru take a spot on the floor, his hand….gravitating to….

You forced yourself to look away. 

Instead pleading to Suguru that you can wash yourself, that he doesn’t need to climb into the tub with you pressing himself behind you. As he grabbed the handheld shower head, changing the settings as he deemed fit as you squirmed and sobbed. 

“Have to clean you now, hm?” He hummed behind you, changing the setting of the handheld shower head to the highest setting, the pressure was too much as you squirmed and clawed at his hands shaking your head. You looked over at Satoru the smile on his face, the way he seemed blissed out as he stroked his…

Oh god. 

They enjoyed this. 

You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you as your cunt clenched onto nothing, as your clit was being tormented by the harsh pressure of the showerhead Suguru had directed. 

“Shhhh, just let go… I got you,” Suguru murmured, his voice low and soothing as he adjusted the spray of water once more, there was purpose in his insistent touches, firm and absolute.

You couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked your body, your tears mixing with the water cascading over your skin. Your mind felt like it was spinning, your thoughts fragmented and overwhelmed by the unbearable mix of sensations and emotions crashing over you.

And then, you reached the peak—your body betraying you, shuddering in his grip as your climax washed over you. Shame burned hot in your chest, your face flushed with humiliation as the sobs came harder, raw and broken.

Suguru’s hand never faltered, his movements steady as he lowered the setting on the showerhead to a gentle spray, hushing you softly as you came down from your high.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his tone almost tender as his hand smoothed over your damp skin. “Just let me take care of you.”

You couldn’t muster the strength to respond, your body trembling as exhaustion began to creep in.

But he wasn’t done.

Before you could catch your breath, Suguru adjusted the water pressure again, the sharp sensation snapping you back into focus as he began once more.

“No, please…” you whimpered, your voice weak and cracking as you squirmed in his hold.

“Shhh,” he hushed you, his lips brushing lightly against your temple as his grip tightened. “You’re fine. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t have the strength to fight him.

Again and again, he pushed you over the edge, your sobs gradually giving way to soft, broken whimpers as your body betrayed you. Your limbs felt heavy, your mind clouded with a haze of exhaustion and humiliation.

By the time he finally relented, your eyes were half-lidded, sleep tugging at the edges of your consciousness.

Satoru, who had been watching the entire time, stood from his spot on the floor, his sharp blue eyes raking over your limp form with a grin that made your stomach twist.

“Since Suguru did a good job cleaning you up, think you can clean my mess?” Satoru’s voice was light, teasing, but the sharp glint in his blue eyes told you there was no room for refusal.

Your head weakly shook in response, your body trembling with exhaustion as you tried to avert your gaze.

But Suguru didn’t let you.

“Be a good girl,” he murmured, his voice calm but firm as his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face back toward them. His thumb pressed against your lips, prying them open with gentle insistence.

You whimpered, tears welling in your eyes again as his thumb slipped onto your tongue, the weight of his touch heavy and suffocating.

“There you go,” he said softly, almost soothing as though this was something to comfort you. “It’s easier if you don’t fight.”

Before you could protest, Satoru was pressing the tip of his cock onto your tongue, sliding his length down your throat despite your gags as Suguru ensured you wouldn’t bite down, keeping your mouth open.

“Good girl,” Satoru cooed, his voice low and saccharine as he watched you with amusement, the corners of his lips twitching upward as you instinctively flinched. “Be a good little gator, don’t bite”

You couldn’t stop the fresh wave of tears that trickled down your cheeks, your body frozen under the weight of their attention. Every movement felt heavy, every breath labored as you struggled to take the full length down your throat.

Suguru’s dark eyes bore into you, steady and unyielding. “See? You can do this,” he murmured, removing his thumb to help guide your head as you sucked on Satoru’s cock. “You’re already doing so well.”

“Better than I thought she would,” Satoru replied, a soft groan escaped his lips as he tilted his head back, gently rocking his hips forward despite your tears, Suguru was forcing your head to bob on Satoru's length, keeping his touch gentle.

“We’re going to take such good care of you,” Suguru hummed, his voice smooth and steady as his hand’s methodical movements, his dark eyes gazing at you in adornment as you choked on the sticky white ropes that trickled down your throat. 

His words made your stomach twist, but the calmness in his tone—the way it almost sounded affectionate—made it all the more suffocating.

“I think we can work with this arrangement, right?” Suguru murmured, his lips curving into a faint smile as he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. His tone was calm, almost soothing, as though this was the most natural thing in the world.

“We love you so much, don’t you know?” he continued, his voice softening further, as if the depth of their love for you was as much a burden for them as it was for you. “We’ll give you time to adjust to the new arrangement. Don’t you worry.”

You flinched, your body trembling from a cocktail of exhaustion and humiliation. The words wrapped around you like a cage, their gentleness only making the weight of them heavier. Your eyes darted toward Satoru, searching desperately for some sign of relief, some thread of normalcy—but his expression only made your stomach twist.

His smile was lovesick, almost dazed, his half-lidded eyes clouded with fatigue, likely from his final exam. Yet his fingers found their way to the top of your head, the touch soft and deliberate, giving you a gentle, almost affectionate pat.

The gesture should have been comforting. It should have eased the tightness in your chest. Instead, it felt like a reminder—a quiet assertion of control, of just how tightly you were bound to them.

“Let’s get you ready for bed, shall we?” Satoru said, his voice light and teasing, laced with his usual carefree charm. But beneath the playful tone, there was an undertone of finality, a quiet edge that made it clear this wasn’t a suggestion.

Suguru’s hands were steady as he adjusted the towel around your body, his touch disarmingly gentle, as though he were savoring the act of caring for you. Each movement was slow, deliberate, as if he were worshipping the process of drying you off. He ensured the towel wrapped around you modestly, yet his fingers lingered just long enough to make you question if there was more to his care.

When he stood, his tall frame towering over you, he extended a hand. His dark eyes met yours, calm and unreadable, as if silently urging you to trust him.

You hesitated. Every instinct screamed at you to pull away, to run, to do something. But the exhaustion weighed you down, rooting you in place. Your legs felt like lead, your thoughts foggy and scattered, a tangle of fear and resignation you couldn’t untangle.

“You’re tired,” Suguru murmured, his voice a soothing balm that did little to ease the tightness in your chest. There was an undercurrent of quiet authority in his tone, one that made resistance feel futile.

His hand enveloped yours, warm and steady, guiding you to your feet before you could summon the strength to protest. “Let us take care of you,” he said softly, the words carrying a tenderness that felt at odds with the unease curling in your stomach.

Satoru was already waiting by the door, leaning casually against the frame. His bright blue eyes watched you with his signature grin—a grin that normally felt harmless but now carried an edge that made your chest tighten. “Come on, little gator,” he cooed, beckoning you with a casual wave. “We’ve got everything ready for you.”

You let them guide you, too drained to resist. Suguru’s hand rested lightly on your lower back, steadying you as Satoru walked ahead, his playful hum filling the quiet hall.

When you finally crawled into the cool sheets, your body sagged into the mattress, the weight of the day pressing down on you. The bath had left your skin warm and your limbs heavy, the overstimulation making it impossible to think straight. Exhaustion was a tide, pulling you under, and for a fleeting moment, you were grateful for the comfort they had so carefully orchestrated.

Perhaps you were too far gone to notice—or to care—about the faint noises behind you. The soft murmur of voices, the rustle of fabric, the low, intimate sound of Satoru’s moan as he lowered himself onto Suguru.

Your mind barely registered it, the sound blurring into the background as sleep took hold. You ignored the quiet gasp, the rhythmic creak of the mattress in the other room, and the muted groan that followed.

The warmth of the blankets, the scent of lavender, the haze of exhaustion—all of it conspired to drag you deeper into unconsciousness, letting the world fade away as your body surrendered to sleep.

[redwingstan]

"you know what we are. you just want to hear me say it." with bucky please!

debts paid - bucky x reader insert

author's note; thanks for your request, anon! hope you like it! (I may make a part 2 with this one!)

"So, what are we?"

Bucky grunted, a response you got when he didn't know what to say, or when he was just playfully annoyed. This time you couldn't tell which one it was.

"What happened to not asking questions?" He said as his back remained to you. He was hunched over the balcony, looking below at the bustling streets filled with people heading to their destinations.

"The same thing that happened to no secrets," you mumbled, shoulders dropping as if the miniscule book you held in your hands weighed a ton.

There was a rule you both had agree upon back in the day—a two for one special that kept your relationship—friendship, whatever—thriving: If you were both honest from the jump, there was no need to ask questions, no need to harbor secrets.

Looks like you both were breaking the rules tonight.

Bucky did a double-take as you stood next to him and nudged the little black book against his bicep. It took him a second or two to realize what it was. When he did, he took it before as if you hadn't already read the contents inside.

You sighed and looked straight ahead at the skyline. "I don't know whether to be relieved that you didn't forget about me," You sighed. "...or offended that I'm the last person on that list."

Granted, you didn't even bother skimming the list hard enough to recognize any of the names. You didn't even know what the list meant. You only managed to see your name—your first initial and last name scrawled at the very bottom— and that was enough for you to confront him about it.

Gently, he settled his hand on yours as he shoved the book into his back pocket.

"You weren't supposed to find this—"

"To be fair, I didn't have to go looking for it. You don't have much furniture."

Bucky's apartment was desolate save for a tv, and whatever bundle lay in the corner of what was supposed to be the living room. No furniture, not even a coffee table was in sight. The book happened to be laying on his makeshift bed made of disheveled blanket and jacket.

Bucky sighed as you pulled your hand away from his. You turned to head inside, but he made another quick attempt at your wrist. This time with a more firm grip. You spun around, though made no effort to close the space between both of you. Bucky took it upon himself to step forward, his grip on your wrist transferring to your hand. His thumb ran over the back of it in remorse.

"Okay," he said with a heavy sigh, eyes softening as he looked down at you. "I'm sorry. I know I should've been more honest. I know I should've found you sooner." He lifted your hand and gave it a soft kiss before lowering it. "Forgive me? Please."

"Under one condition," you said, appearing unphased on the outside in regards to his gesture of affection. He knew it was one of the things that worked to settle your nerves.

He lifted a brow in curiosity before lowering your hands, though he didn't let go of them.

"I get to ask three questions," you stated, chin lifted in defiance.

"One," he argued.

"Two," you countered, taking a step forward with a subtle grin on your lips.

Bucky's brows furrowed. "One."

You narrowed your eyes in defeat. "Then my question still stands." Your eyes traced his tired face. He looked beaten, like he had gone more than hundred rounds with the world. The bags under his eyes indicated a lack of sleep. The rough stubble crawling across his jaw made him look more rugged. His hair was cut short—a stark contrast to the longer dark locks you were used to. Six years had certainly done a number on him.

With a sigh of your own, you gave his hand a squeeze. "What are we, Bucky?"

He groaned in internally, though it wasn't out of annoyance, you knew. He wasn't the best at talking about his feelings, but you never held that against him. At least after years of not seeing him on account of The Blip and a year after, you believed you were owed an explanation to this question. A question you had been holding on your tongue since the moment he told you he might not be coming back.

His gloved thumbs traced your hands as he gently tugged you towards his chest. "You know what we are. You just want to hear me say it," he said.

You grinned. "I do," you said tilting your chin upwards with a lifted brow.

With dark eyes, the infamous Winter Soldier stroked your cheek. He placed a kiss on your temple.

"I can't be the only one to say what we are," he sighed, "but I know that you're one of the only people I can trust, and losing you again would be another devastation I wouldn't be able to bear." He stroked your cheek gently, eyes looking everywhere but at you. Your fingertips migrated over his stubble and guided his eyes back to your face. The Winter Soldier gave you a look of surprise before his lips settled into a subtle smile.

He kissed your temple once more.

"Does that answer your question, doll?"

[comesatimecomesashadow]

Hey hey! Could i request a shadow x college student who took him in and try’s to encourage him to be more outgoing/friendly with the others? I keep thinking about how cute it would be to sorta babysit the whole bunch for Maddie and Tom, and Shadow get roped into the friendship. He deserves the best support system☹️❤️!!

tonight, tonight *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ shadow the hedgehog x reader [can be read as platonic or romantic]

fic type *ೃ༄ one-shot, reverse-comfort

cw *ೃ༄ nothing !

summary *ೃ༄ you help shadow come out of his shell.

note *ೃ༄ sorry this took so long anon! i've been busy these past couple weeks.. | I had fun writing this especially after watching sonic 3, he deserves the world !!!

masterlist *ೃ༄

   Being a college student was no easy feat. Assignments and deadlines filled up your time and often left you feeling burnt out, but you always managed to pull through. If there was anything you’d learned from being at school for this long, it was that you couldn’t give up because you’d always make it in the end anyway. It was just the process of getting there that you hated. 

   Shadow was about the only one who could allow you to escape the stressful confines of your dorm. You had met him on one of your nightly walks to de-stress after the hectic events of the day. Hour-long lectures and energy drinks for breakfast weren’t exactly the most desirable position to be in. As you were planning out your week, calculating how much time each assignment needed and what instructions were given, you bumped into an unfamiliar creature : A Hedgehog. 

   It struck you as a peculiar happenstance, given that he was on college grounds. He didn’t seem like he was a student. Of course, you could have just ignored him and went on with your night, but something in you wouldn’t let you. Since that day, the two of you have been inseparable. You weren’t exactly startled by his existence given that before you met him, Tom and Maddie asked you to ‘babysit’ Sonic and the others while they went out. Though your schedule was a bit stressful because of your college work, you always accepted. 

   And now, since Shadow had become part of your life, he sometimes tagged along when you went over to the Wachowski residence. Sonic, Knuckles and Tails behaved fairly well for the most part (you were thankful for that), but there was always one thing that nagged at you : your black and red quilled hedgehog friend who always seemed to be off in his own world despite being in the same room as the others. 

   Shadow had told you about his past after about a year of staying with you, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to feel isolated when everyone else was having fun. You weren’t exactly the best at comfort, but you couldn’t just leave him like that. So you decided to address it before heading over there.

   Shadow was munching on a handful of coffee beans when you entered the kitchen. You were dressed casually and ready to go out. “Shadow,” you spoke as you turned on the stove to boil a bit of water for a cup of coffee. 

   “What is it?” His eyes drifted to you, he was sitting at the small kitchen table. Your apartment wasn’t big but it was something at least. Shadow was grateful. 

   “Do you want a cup of coffee?” You asked while you leaned on the counter, your arms crossed. You weren’t sure how to approach it, you couldn’t exactly just tell him to socialize. In your experience, that never worked on you so it definitely wouldn’t work on him. So how..? 

   “Yes, I’d appreciate that.” Shadow nodded and kept eating away at his coffee beans. You’d gotten used to his short answers but sometimes, they weren’t the best for serious conversations like these. 

   “Are you going to come with me to Maddie’s?” you inquired, your voice a little softer than usual. 

   Shadow nodded, “Yes, I will be accompanying you tonight. Someone has got to keep those dimwits in check.” You chuckled at his insults and a small smile tugged at your lips. The time wasn't right, it felt too abrupt to just bring it up out of nowhere. So you made a note to bring it up later, at the right moment. After a cup of coffee with your hedgehog companion, the two of you were off to the Wachowski household. 

   The afternoon was calm. It was accompanied with the soft caresses of the wind and the warm beams of sunlight. You knocked on the door and waited for an answer, continuing your conversation with Shadow until Maddie answered the door. 

   “You’re right on time, come on in!” Maddie greeted, opening the door to let the two of you in. You thanked her and greeted the ever-energetic hedgehog who whizzed up in front of you in a matter of seconds. 

   “We’ll be back around ten-thirty, alright?” Tom told you. You nodded, “Yep, I promise to keep everyone on their best behavior.” The couple smiled in acknowledgement and told Sonic and the others the usual ‘behave or you’re grounded’ spiel before disappearing into one of Sonic’s rings. 

   “You guys wanna have a movie marathon or board games?” you asked the four of them, Shadow was still at your side with his arms crossed. 

   “How about, Board games first n’ then a movie marathon?” Sonic suggested, his hands on his hips. 

   “That sounds great!” Tails chimed in, “Agreed.” added Knuckles. 

   Sonic went to go get the board games out of the cabinet while everyone else cleared the table, Shadow was quiet as always. “You’re joining right?” 

   “Do you want me to?” Shadow helped you carry some cups to the sink. 

   You nudged him, “I’m asking what you want.” 

   He pondered for a moment. “I am unfamiliar with the games.” He didn’t seem sad about it but a little ..lost? This did not deter you though. 

   “I’ll teach you, I promise it’ll be fun.” you beamed. 

   “.. Are you sure?” Shadow asked, avoiding eye contact. It was a thing he did when he was uncertain of something. But you only nodded and guided his gaze back to you. You knew he was unsure about how the others would react to his participation. 

   “I’m more than sure.” 

   After the table was cleared, there was a mountain of games at the side of the table; Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow and you sat at the surrounding edges of the table, seated on the couch. “Since Shadow’s joining this time,” You began as you reached for the deck of cards on the table. “I was thinking we could play uno first, how's that?” 

   “Shadow’s joining?” Sonic asked with a surprised look on his face, “This’ll be fun.” Shadow only huffed and crossed his arms. Shadow only acted as if the blue hedgehogs remarks meant nothing because on the inside, he was grateful that they weren’t opposed to having him in the game.

   “I look forward to winning against all of you,” said Knuckles while donning a determined expression.

   “That’s ambitious.” said Shadow, “Dream on!” chimed Tails. Everyone seemed pumped and the environment felt warm. You were glad to see Shadow stepping out of his comfort zone. You split the cards while you explained the rules of the game to Shadow as well as the purpose of the different cards. Shadow listened intently and admired your expertise at card-shuffling. 

   “Alright, everyone count if you’ve got seven cards.” you said as you looked through your cards. 

   “Are we betting anything?” Sonic asked playfully. 

   “No, we are not betting anything, this is a game not gambling.” You rolled your eyes, “Plus, I'm a broke college student — the most I can give is like ten bucks.” Sonic and the others laughed at your half-joke. You reached for the deck and turned a card over, a six and the color blue present on the card. 

   After a long round of rock, paper, scissors, it was decided that Tails would start first and it would go clockwise. The game, despite being a practice round, went on for quite a long time — Though that was to be expected, given that it was the five of you who were playing. Tails ended up winning and the night went on smoothly. 

   Shadow was quite competitive and he ended up winning the two rounds afterwards, much to Sonic’s dismay. You were happy to see this side of Shadow, he seldom went out of his way to interact with others. It was your influence on him and your encouraging nature that allowed him to step out of his comfort. 

   It was about eight in the evening when Shadow was helping you make snacks for the movie marathon. Sonic, Tails and Knuckles were bickering over which movie to watch but you didn’t pay much mind to it. “You were great at Uno, I was surprised. It was your first time right?” You mashed the avocados with the mortar and pestle; Everyone had agreed on guacamole as the snack of the night. 

   Shadow nodded in response to your question, “I’m a quick learner, the game was relatively simple.” 

   Shadow added the minced tomatoes into the avocado mix. “I’m proud of you, y’know.” you spoke quietly but your words were warm. It was an exchange just between the two of you. Shadow began chopping up the cilantro as you spoke. “I know it isn’t easy, but I’m proud of you.” 

   His chopping slowed, “.. I’m not a social being, But..” He inhaled slowly before sighing. “Your efforts in encouraging me to engage with others were helpful.” You smiled at his words and listened earnestly, mixing in the ingredients he poured. “Playing board games with everyone today.. It reminded me of Maria.” 

   Your smile was one of understanding as you gazed down at the black hedgehog. He was reserved most of the time, but today he did something he wasn’t usually comfortable with. Your warm nature helped him creep out of his shell and enjoy himself. It helped him remember the lost moments with the person he held dearest to his heart. 

   “I remembered the joy I felt with her.. It was so easy then.” He spoke, a sorrowful smile on his lips. 

   “It might not be easy now, but it isn’t unreachable. Okay?” You washed your hands and dried them before bending down to give him a hug. He let go of the knife and accepted your warm hug. He closed his eyes before enclosing his own arms around you. Even though both of your lives were stressful, he had you and you had him. 

   No matter what, the two of you helped each other up when the other was down. The support you’d given him these past two years — he’d remember it and cherish it. 

   He decided then that he would do the same for you too.

[esotericbluntbaby]

HIIIII i love your writing style so bad, i came on here to request something and then i see you doubt your own writing which is crazy cuz they're all good!!! can i request hamzah and reader in something worse than a situationship so she brings out like someone attractive along at a party or something (it could literally be a gay man that offered to help her idk) to see if it'd make him jealous and it actually does. IM SORRY if you get too mant jealous hamzah requests but i just yearn for him, PLS have angst in the beginning 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼.

worsened aches

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: though toxic and envious, you realize that your situationship had to have gone through the worst in order to better itself for the sake of you and hamzah.

mentions: angst (expect it at this point), yearning, posessiveness, toxicity in a situationship out of confusion, she/her pronouns, both hamzah and reader are equally mean to each other so hopefully it cancels out, a guy making you uncomfortable and grabbing your hand, a fight scene, happy ending, sfw for the most part

listen to partynextdoor while you're reading lol. specifically make it to the morning or resentment but honestly any will do <3

--

"you're literally fucking crazy- what are you talking about?"

you and hamzah were currently going at it like two players on rival teams. though your relationship, or lack there of, was toxic and overly complicated, you both stayed in the same rooms you fought in because of the loneliness that consumed the both of you. obviously, arguing wasn't fun, nor was it ethical for the sake of your mental health, yet, bickering with someone else was somehow better than spending your nights alone and depressed.

you met hamzah because of how loud he was. you were, and still are, his neighbor who moved in a couple months ago. getting annoyed of the lack of sleep, you decided to march over to his apartment in the same manner that the guardsmen stomp in front of the royal palace; they had the queen to defend, while you had your sanity to fight for. over time, the friendship and simultaneous rivalry stemmed from that night and bloomed into the situationship you have right now.

you and hamzah technically aren't anything; technically, you and hamzah are nothing more than just friends who occasionally act coupley to fill the voids that call you to jump out of windows and balconies. you both were lonely, creating a seemingly win-win situation. he comes over whenever he needs someone to cuddle at night, or more than cuddle, and vice versa. it's been a system that's worked out for about eight-ish months now.

as all situationships do, it was bound to crash and tumble like hurricanes over the ocean. over time, the lack of a label caused more problems than einstein could sold. neither of you had a complete understanding of the boundaries you each wanted, nor did either of you want to risk creating a more serious problem than what it seemed to be by talking about it. so, over time, resentment built itself up within the foundations of the connection between the both of you as communication began to settle in the roots of the ground it was built on.

the night started alright; it was simple making out, occasional pecks on the cheeks and forehead, and constant physical touch. he even bought you food and fed it to you while you two sat on the couch and watched comfort movies. your presence was enjoyed as much as his was. it was normal that whenever hamzah was over, you'd completely lose sight of the bad parts of the connection you have after any part of him would touch you. however, the mood quickly changed when hamzah answered the call of another girl while on your couch. watching his smile expand at her words as you were cuddled up right beside him caused a pit to grow within your chest. it felt wrong. technically, given that you two were friends, it wasn't; however, the fact that he was all over you two seconds before you both heard the ringtone was, in fact, wrong. you moved away, distancing mountains and seas between you two on his couch, as eventually the call became silent and he hung up. you wouldn't speak to him. growing annoyed, he forced you to speak, to which you called him an asshole for "damn near flirting with a girl in front of you." thus, his gaslighting begun.

"hamzah, what do you mean, 'what's wrong with me?' what's wrong with you?"

he scoffed, "fucking nothing. nothing even happened- i have no clue what you're talking about. why are you making something out of nothing?"

"that's so fucking mature. you told me to talk, didn't you? or did i just make something out of nothing again?"

"oh my god, that's not what i meant- dude, why are you even mad? it's not like i did anything."

you raised your eyebrows, "my head was literally on your lap while you were flirting with her."

he slowly emphasized his words, "i wasn't even flirting with her."

"you made your voice deep like you were fuckin' neil degrasse tyson, are you joking? and what the hell was she saying that was making you laugh that hard?"

he put his hands up in defense, "it's not a big deal. so what if jess called me and i laughed when she told me a fuckin joke? it's not that deep."

your body felt like it was rising in temperature, "you're actually such a liar- we both know that it was that deep, bro. that's literally how you laugh with me."

"why does it matter if that's how i laugh with you?" he made a noise between a laugh and scoff and looked back at the television, "it's not like we're dating."

he was right. you weren't dating, so you can't be upset. you knew you mostly wanted that reassurance that he wouldn't find someone else while messing with you on the side, though you assumed that hamzah wasn't like that. you've had the run down of a bad dating history and horrible ex's and, yeah, hamzah was kind of bad. however, hamzah was bad in a way where at least it was to your face, unlike the infidelity and lies in your past relationships. unlike them, the worst that hamzah would do was get defensive over an argument or say something that was a little too mean on accident because he was genuinely just speaking his mind. honestly, the touch and treatment he gave you during the times you weren't bitchy towards each other evened out the slight toxicity; actually, even surpassing it. however, this was too far. this was a lie and you knew it. it was a lie that he specifically told to hurt you on purpose.

sure, maybe you could've gone a different direction with confronting him and maybe you were too aggressive with your accusations; but at the same time, you were also hurt that he would do that in front of you, as your head rested a couple of inches away from his heartbeat. the intimacy of the setting the both of you were in was overtaken by a green bogeyman; envy in its personified form.

the room fell silent as he kept on watching the movie. he only looked at you when you sniffled from tearing up so much. you guys have argued in the past, but never have you cried in front of him; this was vulnerability that you allowed to seep through you like sunlight seeps through the roots of a plant.

his attention was now fully on you, "are you crying?"

"hamzah, i want you to get out of my place."

"wait-"

you stood up and began to walk through the door, "let yourself out the door and don't come back. i'm done."

--

three weeks without him had passed and you were an emotional wreck; a wreck that was so bad that other cars on the road had to stop to see it for themselves. throughout the stages of grief, you were currently on the acceptance stage. you hadn't left you apartment ever since that night out of fear that he'd be leaving his, next door. a couple of times, you heard the knock that you two made for each other to signify that it was the other person at the door. with each knuckle to the wood, a pang in your heart thumped harder and with more rigor. luckily, it only lasted a total of a week before he stopped coming over.

since any romantic encounter or even simple things around your house reminded you of the man next door, you were going to continue to rot in bed whilst watching horror movies. however, the plan was quickly changed when rey, the gay man you met at a club a couple of months ago, decided to text you.

rey :p

5:42 pm | hey boo

5:42 pm | i haven't talked to you in forever

5:42 pm | how r u?

you

5:43 pm | im horrible

5:43 pm | u rmbr the guy i used to talk to u about

rey :p

5:44 pm | the one that was ur bf but also not ur bf?

5:44 pm | like the one that u showed me a pic of and i said he had the same eyes as central cee

you

5:44 pm | yeah

rey :p

5:44 pm | what'd the bitch do

you

5:45 pm | he was genuinely being an asshole

5:45 pm | he literally picked up the phone right

rey :p

5:45 pm | mhmmm

you

5:46 pm | it was a girl

5:46 pm | i was laying my head down on his lap

5:46 pm | and i guess she was the funniest person in the world or smth bc he was laughing his ass off like a fucking idiot

rey :p

5:46 pm | bro hell no

5:46 pm | r u serious

5:47 pm | r u okay

you

5:47 pm | bedrotting lowk lol

5:47 pm | haven't gotten out of my bed in like a full three days

5:48 pm | idk i guess i js miss him

rey :p

5:48 pm | it's reasonable

5:48 pm | im going to a party tn

5:48 pm | come with meeeeee

5:48 pm | maybe u just need a distraction

you

5:49 pm | idk rey

rey :p

5:50 pm | go get dressed and pls shower dont be stinky

5:50 pm | ill pick u up at like uhhhh 8ish

you

5:50 pm | fine

--

you were two drinks down when rey was only tipsy from one drink. being the designated driver, he didn't want to overdo it; yet, he reassured you that he'd take care of you throughout the night. you were simply enjoying his presence; however, given that it was his friends' party that he was going to, occasionally you were left by yourself leaning on walls or sitting on couches and getting up when a couple started to make out on the leather right next to you. after a while, you began to regret going; the more you were alone, the more you thought about how hamzah would be towering over you like some sort of bodyguard in order to make sure that nobody spiked your drink.

as you were zoned out and thinking about him once again, you suddenly came into focus when rey went up to you and gave you a side hug. confused, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him.

"are you thinking about him again?" rey asked, taking another sip of his seltzer.

you sighed, "is it that obvious?"

"if you wanna go home, i can take you. i'm sorry if i pushed you too hard to go out- i just didn't want you to stay home crying over some boy."

"no, yea, i get it. thank you, really, maybe i just needed to go outside. are you ready to go home?"

"i was just gonna drop you off and come back."

you didn't want to seem like a burden; rey was only trying to help you with coping. to have to drive a whole thirty minutes just to drop you off and come back seemed like too much to ask for; after everything that happened with hamzah when it came to begging for communication and reassurance, you hated seeming like you had too much to ask for. so, you took a deep breath and began to brave the waters even more; this was new territory for you that you were now forcing yourself to become familiar with for the rest of the night.

"no, it's okay. i'll stay- i kinda don't wanna be alone," you half-lied.

he put his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, "are you sure?"

"yeah," you sipped the vodka cranberry out of your red solo cup, "i'm sure.

"well," he began to give you a hug with his back facing the front entrance, "if you do wanna leave, tell me."

you hugged him back, "i will. thanks, rey."

unwrapping his arms from you, he walked in the direction of the party as you still stood near the entrance. however, you soon realized that his body was blocking the very sight you tried your best to avoid; hamzah was standing right in front of the doorway, dressed in one of the outfits that made you weak. standing with his friends, his hard expression fixated on you as he realized that some other guy was on you the way that he was. you locked eye contact, sensing the tense gaze he scorned towards you. you decided that it was time to go to the bathroom.

--

sitting on the cold tile for about twenty minutes helped ground you to the reality of your situation. you came to this party hoping to escape the emotions that he made you feel after basking and bathing in them for the past three weeks, however, the same guy appeared right in front of you at the worst time possible. you could go one of two ways: go bother rey and make him drive thirty minutes to and back from your house just to drop you off, or to stay in the bathroom.

considering that someone knocked on the bathroom door as you were pondering, you decided to choose neither of the options and chose a secret, third one: to stay so that rey can enjoy his night.

leaving the bathroom into a relatively empty hallway, you felt an odd stare as you walked past a tall man holding a beer in his hand. you heard and felt his heavy footsteps right behind you, trailing after you in the dark area. you started to walk quicker towards the end of the hallway, reaching the entrance to it that led to the living room where a couple of groups of people were.

"where are you going, pretty lady?" you heard from behind you.

you ignored him, finding his remarks uncomfortable and weird.

you felt his breath on your neck, "y'know, it's rude to ignore a man who's interested in you."

"leave me alone," you sternly demanded.

"what, are you a fucking prude or something?" he asked, grabbing your wrist.

"what the fuck? let go of me, now," you warned as his grip on you tightened, causing your heart to drop all the way to your bladder.

suddenly, he was being pulled off of you and pounded into by someone's fists so fast that it could possibly beat the speed of light; you could tell by the way that the figure punched that it was hamzah. you didn't even see him in the room before he was on the floor with the man from the hallway. you stood there, motionless with worry for hamzah's physical being, as people attempted to intervene and pull hamzah off of him. you watched as hamzah was pried off of him by martin, scolding him and asking him what he was doing. luckily, the man simply left the area and hamzah went into the bathroom, alone.

luckily, the room went back to the usual conversations relatively quick, since it lasted a couple of punches thrown in by hamzah; in addition, a couple of people were staring at you as you yelled at him to let go of your arm. you didn't know how to feel. what if he didn't get him off of you? would you have gotten assaulted? or even worse? however, those thoughts also simultaneously existed with thoughts of how hamzah got there so quick and why he just pummeled a guy into the floor, even after you two weren't on good terms. nevertheless, you went against your goal of avoiding anything hamzah-related and walked to the bathroom.

knocking on the door, he took a minute to turn the knob. he saw you in front of him and gazed at you with an expression that you haven't seen on him before; a mixture of everything felt tonight and, possibly, for the past three weeks. you got a good look at how his eyebags were more protruded as if the skin had a second layer. his eyebags mixed with the lilac and ruby shades mixed in led you to believe that he was struggling to sleep; it was as if you were looking at a mirror.

"can i come in?" you asked.

though you realize that this is stunting your ability to heal, his voice was comforting, "yeah, sure."

he sat down on the closed toilet, as you sat down on the rim of the bathtub besides it. he stared at his hand, bruises and redness already forming on his knuckles, as well as an open gash on his ring finger. you got up from the bathtub rim and crouched over to the cabinet below the sink, watching his eyes linger onto you as you searched for something to clean out his would and wrap it. taking out a roll of bandage and wound cleaner, you sat back down. you gently took his hand in yours and began to clean his wound.

"this might hurt," you mumbled.

you squeezed the wound cleaner as he winced, a sour expression with his eyebrows scrunched on his face apparent. you began to wrap his hand, trying your best to be as gentle as possible. you still felt his eyes on you, like you were a puppet performing in front of an audience.

you broke the silence, "are you drunk?"

"what?"

"y'know, have you drank anything since you got here."

"oh- no, no i haven't."

you ripped the end of the bandage off, attempting to tie it onto his hand, "so, you beat his ass completely sober?"

he chuckled, "yeah."

"it was stupid."

he gave you a look of disbelief, "what?"

"hamzah, you could've hurt yourself! what if he had a knife on him or a gun or just something-"

"you're telling me that i'm stupid for getting a guy, who was clearly making you uncomfortable, off of you?"

you sighed, "no, hamzah, you're not stupid. i'm saying that your actions were stupid because you could've gotten seriously hurt and i don't want to be the reason you're in the hospital. i don't want you to get hurt at all."

"well, would he have done it?"

puzzled, you tilted your head to the side, "who?"

"the- fuckin- the guy you were with- him- would he have done this for you?"

a chuckle of disbelief escaped from your throat, "why does that matter?"

"i saw him hugging you and shit, he should've done what i did- where was he when you needed him? why'd he let you go to the bathroom by yourself?"

"why does it matter if he was hugging me, hamzah? why does it matter if he left me alone?"

"because if you're gonna replace me with him, he has to be better than me!" his voice got slightly louder, causing you to jump, "fuck- if we're not together anymore, you have to find someone that could take care of you as well as i did or even better."

your eyes squinted with annoyance, "hamzah, you literally just said that we were just friends. what are you talking about 'we're not together anymore?' you were the one who said that we weren't ever together."

"i fucking lied, okay? i lied. i fucking lied to you because i can't handle the fact that you wanted more and i- i just- i can't be enough for you," he rushed as the information in his head that he wanted to let out was twice as fast as his words, "i wanted more too. fuck, i wanted more so fucking bad- you don't get it, but i'd be selfish if i just took you all for myself even if i couldn't give you everything that you deserve."

emotions began to implode within your chest, "are you serious? you could've fucking tried or, better yet, you could've just talked to me, hamzah! genuinely, what the hell are you even talking about with that 'i couldn't give you everything' shit. i don't want everything, i just wanted you."

your breathing became heavier as tears began to flow out of your eyes once more, mirroring the scene at your apartment that lead to this very encounter. though you laid in bed for three weeks, you didn't cry once, not ever since the time you last cried in front of him. every single fear was running rampant in your head from speaking to him with such vulnerability. yet, you soon realized that there was no point of holding back. he was already watching you intently and listening to every single word you were saying, gazing at you with longing eyes that yearned the longer you were sat in the bathroom. there was no turning back now, so you decided to tell him everything that you've been feeling and thinking in the past three weeks of agonizing heartbreak with one, singular sentence. with breaths heavy within your chest and tears now streaming down your face, you let go.

"hamzah, i just want you."

in that moment, hamzah saw the heartbreak in personified, human form. he watched you crumple apart in front of him like balls of paper about to be thrown into a trash can. hamzah went into the situationship with the thought that it would be the best possible outcome; the outcome where there's no mess to clean up, nor promises to keep, nor expectations to maintain. the situationship was, in his eyes, a way to keep you both from being hurt. knowing that his very intention was to not hurt you at all, as he watched you crying your eyes out in front of him, finally caused the the realization that he was supporting the very cause he was against.

hamzah didn't know what to do, yet, he knew he had to make this right for the sake of you, him, and the connection between you two.

hamzah lifted you up onto his lap, unsure and hesitant, watching your reaction to his actions. watching the tears on your face slowly stop sliding down and your breathing get slightly lighter, he believed it was okay. he wiped your face with his thumbs with such gentleness to it; in hamzah's mind, he has broken you down to the point where there's cracks in your skin, so he was trying his best not to shatter you completely. after gazing at your eyes with a sympathetic, longing, and apologetic stare, he gently brought your face closer towards his. he closed the gap between you guys' lips, a wave of nostalgia and comfort overtaking the vulnerability that was just in the room. over time, the kiss got more desperate and aching. your lips chased after each other as your tongues moves synchronously with the same feelings of past despair and hopelessness. your hands were roaming up and down each other's bodies as if it was meant to be explored by each other; as if you were both artifacts meant to be excavated. it lasted fifteen minutes; the passion radiated from you guys' bodies even after you stopped kissing to breathe. hamzah was the first to speak.

"i know you came here with a date, but i can't take it anymore. i need you in my life, baby, i need you back and i need you back now. the past couple weeks i haven't been sleeping or eating or doing anything besides just sitting there and realizing that i'm a fucking idiot. i never liked the girl that i was on the phone with and i blocked her right after i left your place, that night. i don't even know what i was doing and i shouldn't have even picked up in the first place- i should have never said we were just friends. i was lying. i was a fucking liar and you can do whatever you want to make me pay for that. you can slap me as hard as you can or burn my hoodies or anything, baby, just-please forgive me, i'm sorry. i'll do anything to have you back in my life-"

you cut him off with a slow, gentle, and lingering kiss, once again. pulling away, he admired you like he was in a trance that he wasn't willing to be broken out of.

"i'm not dating rey. he's here with another guy."

hamzah looked puzzled as he rubbed loving circles onto your thighs, "what?"

"he's gay."

"thank fucking god," he let out a sigh of relief, "i think i felt my heart genuinely shatter when i walked in on him hugging you."

you laughed, "you were that hurt over it?"

"of course i'd be. it's you."

"yeah, yeah, don't flatter me," you teased.

hamzah's expressione turned serious once again, "baby, please come back to me. i'll make it all up to you if you let me, i promise. i don't care how long it takes or what i'll have to do. let me prove to you that i can take care of you."

your expression also became serious, "it depends. are you taking care of me as my idiot neighbor who occasionally comes over to do things that friends don't do?"

you asked the question expecting him to answer that he'll do better than that, however, he surprised you once again.

he took your hand and kissed it, "no, i'll take care of you as your boyfriend, if you'll let me."

--

authors note!

hi guys this is so late i am going to bed goodnight!

[cinnamanz]

# MAMMA MIA — chapter three!

there’s always been one rule in the group: don’t bring up y/n. no one really knows why, but it’s clear sophia would rather leave her ex-best friend in the past. once inseparable, their friendship dissolved after a summer camp that no one talks about, and y/n vanished, moving god-knows-where without so much as a goodbye. some say it was a fight. others say it was something more. only sophia knows the truth—or maybe not even she does. now, as the third year at dream academy begins, sophia is blindsided by y/n's unexpected return. gone is the familiar, easygoing childhood bestfriend she remembers. in her place is someone sharper, colder, and—unfortunately for sophia—hotter than ever. (who gave her the permission to look so fine?)

LIVIN LA VIDA LOCA

masterlist ✮⋆｡˚📽️ next

i am also not livin la vida loca rn

@zindoriyo @goofymickeyr @saysirhc @kathleenmikaelson @soobnotfound @jjjaliyah @meganskiendielsbtc @magixpracticality @phamapple @sed7ction @1luvkarina @linnnsworld @hotluvlet @bauzer @deathvidal @saranglasses @kkoga @chaesitonmyface @arihiu @peanutbutterlover05 @kristalag @ssamlovr @sunshinez4 @meiyaes @solentient @jsxjmn @reey0w @vrtualstar @justtluvrr @fruityg0rl @cyberbonesworld @danisluvv @haerinkisser @lafortezalover @cassiespoiler @skz-xii @ninguitar @kimminjswife @yeetaberry127 @p1hbrook @hazel-tanthamore22 @caitlynglazer @minjvers @tormaa1 @nwjnsloona @itzkatflixs @namojoon @falling-intoo-deep @waitsobs @nyssalvr TAGLIST OPEN

[inkprilled]

Sometimes people drift so far away. Friendships that used to be sleep overs and chasing each other around the park after school, are now liking each others posts every once in awhile. Friendships that felt more like a sisterhood now feel like barely a friend of a friend from work you once knew, memories of us are so much sweeter than this distant present us. We've turned tepid and bland. We've faded.

[the-banks-of-lethe]

Relationship with Lord Hypnos !

This is something I've been thinking about lately and I too am struggling with describing it.

I think the best way I could describe it would be in the terms of a QPR (queer platonic relationship). It's not romantic, definitely not. Especially given that, though close, I am not an adult yet - I don't think I'd be comfortable with that just yet. But it does feel more than just a friendship kind of way, its more deeper than that I think.

It feels familial, but not in the way it would be with a parent, more in a way that when you are really close with someone / married / in a relationship, you consider them family. It's not particularly just friendship either, it feels much deeper than that.

"A queerplatonic relationship is a relationship that is not romantic but involves a close emotional connection (platonic) beyond what most people consider friendship." "An extremely close, passionate attachment between two friends that has a strong emotional connection that may extend beyond the boundary of a 'normal' friendship."

However, it is also devotion. I devote a lot of my time to him (when I can), and I'm happy to give him half my life through sleep, I get exicted and sometimes count down the hours until I go to bed so I can feel His energy and domain again. I find it difficult to see my future without seeing Him in it.

This may sound obsessive or weird to some, trust me I can see it, but it's how I feel, and it's how Hypnos has regarded our bond before. I wouldn't have it any other way. My life has changed for the better since I first started worshipping Him and I'm not afraid to say that I love Him, and He knows that. And even if our relationship changes down the track; what won't change is the respect I have for Him, becasue at the end of the day He is a god, and He has helped me throughs so much, it would be disgraeful of me to not respect him for that.

I think it's beautiful how different everyone's relationships with their gods / deities are; even if they differ from mine or are the exact same. It's wonderful how many people have fallen in love (not neccesarily romantically, but it can be) and found comfort in Lord Hypnos- or any god for that matter.

Anyway, I think that's enough rambling from me for now;

Khaire, and sweet dreams 💙

Fellow Hellenic polytheists, how would you describe your relationship/feelings toward your deity/deities.

Purely a god/worshiper dynamic? Parental? Sibling like? Mentor/student? Romantic? Queer platonic? Friends? Boss/employee? Purely just fascination?

I honestly have no idea how I’d describe mine, it’s partly fascination and devotion, partly autism brain needing to consume everything about him and maybe a little crush but oh my gods he’s a DEITY Astro control your fucking self.

I can describe it in a picture though