#and I also have a lot of memories here and while it is a messy account (which bugs me..... I wanna clean it out so bad but it's HARD)

[st44ph]

Blooming (Part 1)

| JEALOUS! LANDO X READER |

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| official playlist below ♡ |

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Summary: Lando is jealous of your relationship with Lewis, but he won’t admit it.

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beware of:  text messages 

Drivers involved : LN4 ; LH44

♥︎ ➻ angst 

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Enjoy !! ♡

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“When do the flowers know when it’s their time to bloom?” You innocently ask Lando, the sunlight practically blinding the both of you.

“I don’t know. I guess they just…do?” He responds, sneaking a small glance at you, admiring the way the sun made your eyes look ethereal. He loved you so much, it was driving him insane. He wanted to kiss you, to hug you, to tell you that everything will be okay. You will be okay.

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Lando woke up, the memories slipping away from him. He placed his head in his hands, letting out a sigh. That afternoon will hunt him forever… It was a warm, summer afternoon when you and Lando were sitting on a bench in the high school parking lot. Your dad recently passed away and you were grieving his death. He was a wonderful man. So, like any good friend, Lando decided to get you your favourite drink to cheer you up. It’s always been like that…

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…Until he introduced you to his teammates one night. He remembers that night vividly. He introduced you to Lewis Hamilton and you seemed starstruck when he took your hand and kissed it. What a fucking show off. He did that to every woman that showed even the slightest amount of interest in him. He was a playboy. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, really. Lando said all type of things about you.” 

He gave you that charming smile that he gave to all the ladies around. Of course he did. And all of that while he was staring deadpan at Lando. Lewis knew that Lando liked you, it was obvious for God’s sake, but he also knew that Lando didn’t want to make a move on you, because he valued your friendship more than anything. Lando scoffed a little when he saw the interaction between you two. He knew Lewis and his antics well. He knew he liked to sleep around with a lot of women.

He gritted his teeth when you exchanged numbers, he couldn’t let Lewis fuck you up. Yet, you had multiple dates, and you seemed to like Lewis despite Lando’s warnings. When Lewis hardlaunched your relationship on Instagram, he knew he was done for. All his chances were shattered. He wishes you realised that the man you needed was right here. You didn’t need a superficial guy like Lewis. He has always been right here next to you. He tried to be happy for you when Lewis announced that you’re dating, but the only thing that he could think of is erasing that picture-perfect smile off of Lewis’s face. Still, he just swallowed and congratulated you. Lewis was what he wasn’t ; confident, handsome, smart… he was a champion.

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Lando sat at the edge of his bed, running a hand through his messy hair. He was debating whether he should text you or not. As much as he hated to admit, he missed you. His fingers ghosted over the ‘send’ button on his phone. He groaned and threw his phone on the bedside table. Why was he being such a wimp? You used to text for hours. He laid back down in bed, his head was throbbing with pain. He looked at the white ceiling, wondering what went wrong.

Ping! 

The notification startled him, but when he saw your name pop up on the screen next to the “Hey lan lan :)” text it felt like rubbing salt on the wound. He loved that stupid nickname of yours.

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He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell you he wasn’t okay, that he missed you, that he wanted to have you, but he knew he couldn’t tell you. He just made up a lame excuse as always.

He wouldn’t use the word “ignoring”, more like “distancing”. He didn’t feel like you’ve been the same since you started dating Lewis ; but he couldn’t tell you that. All those luxurious parties, all the designer clothes…it didn’t feel right anymore. You used to hate designer clothes, saying that you thought they were useless, and that they don’t define a persons worth. Now, that’s all you wear. He couldn’t even recognise you anymore.

You knew he was lying. There was something that was bothering him, he just didn’t want to tell you. You were going to find out one way or another, even if it ended up in a fight.

He scratched his head, rereading their conversation. Maybe he was being an asshole. He was just tired, stressed and all of these combined with jealousy, killed him inside. 

You let out a loud sigh and shake your head. What’s gotten into him? This is the 3rd time this happened, all in just one month. You should probably check on him.

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Lando spilled coffee on himself, the brown liquid burning his chest. He winced, rubbing his hands over his face again. It felt wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be  “what’s wrong with you?” and “I don’t understand”, it was supposed to be “hiii I missed u so much <3” like you used to text him. But it was too late. He wishes with all his heart to turn back time to that night. To the night that ruined everything. He would’ve said no. He would’ve kept you inside the hotel.

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He took a shower, cleaning the sticky coffee from himself and decided that the best way to deal with this is to turn off his phone and turn on the TV, just to take his mind off of things. He wanted to be alone, but at the same time, he wanted you to be here. He wishes you were here.

“I don’t deserve a friend like you, Lando. You’re so nice to me.” Your voice came back to him. Regardless, you were gone now, or at least that’s what it felt like.

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(♤ - you ; ♧ - Lando)

The loud knocking on the hotel door woke him up. Apparently, he fell asleep on the couch. He yawned and closed the TV, murmuring a sleepy “coming, coming”.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to see you. He didn’t even know you were here for the race. You were wearing a red designer dress, probably another gift from Lewis. He didn’t like the way the dress looked on you. He preferred the old you, the one that wore thrifted jeans and bragged about finding cute tops at thrift stores.

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♤ “Hey, Lando. What’s up?” You ask, inviting yourself inside the hotel room. 

♧ “You just woke me up…” He replied, stretching his arms over his head. 

♤ “What happened?” You ask, leaning against the countertop of the kitchen. You were confused as to why he was this way. He wasn’t picking up his phone when you called him, or when he did he seemed reluctant to talk to you, he wasn’t answering your texts and when he eventually did, he was dry.

♧ “I’m fine, thanks for checking up. What about you?” He remarked, rolling his eyes. He didn’t expect for you to pull up to his hotel door. You only did that when you had a fight with Lewis. That was the only time he got to actually talk to you anymore.

You groan, exasperated by his behaviour. Something was bothering him and you had a suspicion as to what it was, but you wanted to hear it from him. 

♧ “I’ve been busy, that’s all. I have to prepare for the weekend. You know how everyone says that i don’t work-“ but he was interrupted by your cold tone.

♤ “Miss me with that, Lando! Since when do you care about what those people have to say?!” You ask, your tone sharper now. You’ve had enough of his lame excuses. He wasn’t busy, he didn’t have ‘stuff to do’. Something else was happening. 

♧ “Since I lost the championship last season! I can’t let that happen again. I’m not losing my championship to my teammate, and you can be sure of that.” He defended himself, his voice just as sharp, trying to conceal the fact that he was jealous. He didn’t want to admit to it. 

But you knew he wasn’t busy. It was something else, something he wasn’t telling you.

♤ “Oh, so you’re just going to ignore me? Because you’re just sooo focused on winning? Or…”

Silence… You frown. He was a shitty liar.

♧ “Yeah, I don’t see the-“

♤ “You’re jealous.” You cut him off. You speculated that he was jealous of Lewis. You could see it on his face. He was always warning you about Lewis, always telling you to break up with him when you had a fight.

♧ “Wh-What?” He stuttered, the revelation completely throwing him off. He didn’t expect you to say it like that. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I be jealous?” He continues, fidgeting with the bracelet on his wrist. The bracelet you gave him. He always did that when he lied.

♤ “Cut the crap, Lando. You’re not being slick. I know that you’re jealous. I can see it on your face whenever you’re around Lewis.” You stepped closer to him, squinting your eyes while looking him up and down

He scowled at your try at intimidating him. He wasn’t going to let himself be intimidated by you.

♧ “Yeah, okay. And what if I am?! You have no proof of that.” He stammered

♤ “Oh, I don’t?” You insisted. “What about all the times that you told me to break up with him? Or, when you told me he was a bad influence?”

♧ “I’m just trying to look out for you. I know him, and I know his habits. I just want what’s best for you.”

♤ “Now you know what’s best for me? Come on, Lando. You barely know what’s best for you. You have no right to dictate what’s good for me.” You fumed, turning your back at him. “Can’t you try to be happy for me?” You cracked, your tone turning more sad than angry

♧ “No.” He stated coldly. “You’ve changed a lot.” He lowered his tone “I can’t even recognise you anymore…” He looked down at the wood floor, not wanting to see the look on your face. It hurt him to say it, but it was the truth. 

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You stormed out of the room, leaving Lando staring at the door. He wanted you to come back, but it was pointless. You were gone, and you were going to be gone for a while. 

You closed your eyes, fighting back the tears that pooled behind your eyelids. Lando’s words cut a deep scar through your heart, but they were true to some degree. You changed.

No. He changed you. He changed you into something good. Or so you think. You’re not stuck wearing rags anymore, you’re finally a respectable woman. You’re beautiful. Lewis always says that. 

“You’re just as pretty as the other girls, baby. Don’t worry.” 

You sigh, leaning your back against the cold, concrete wall of the hotel lobby. 

You fucked up.

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You take a big breath in, finally calming your thoughts. You get up, the silence that filled the empty hallway deafening you. It felt like the walls were listening to your thoughts. 

You smooth out your red dress and close your eyes again. You weren’t going to let things end like this. 

You stare at your reflection in the lobby mirror, disgusted by what you saw. 

“I can’t even recognise you anymore.” 

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Stats: 1.977 words ; 10.732 characters ; 187 sentences ; 76 paragraphs 

Part 2 coming out soon… ୨ৎ

[esote-rika]

the memory of your lips | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: Flangst. Summary: At the end of a great date, you have to deal with the realities of dating a BAU agent. Content: Mentions of alcohol, reader is tipsy and flirty and LOVESICK, Spencer is a gentleman, kisses, no use of y/n, reader is called angel. I had s3 or 4 Spencer in mind when I was writing, but it works for any season.  Word count: 1.4k A/N: Here’s the fic for the Lovesick by Laufey (listen to it right here, PLEASE I BEG!!!) poll I did a while back. I know I originally planned for it to have smut, but I opted out because it didn’t feel right with the tone??? Anyways, this was just really fun to write, and I hope you enjoy! 

Three dates are an embarrassingly short amount of time to have fallen in love with someone, but in your defense, you have not encountered anyone quite like Spencer Reid in all your years of dating. 

Never have you met a man so intensely focused and attentive, so intelligent without any hint of pretense. His arrogance is founded, but he never used his genius to make you feel less; instead, he’s committed everything you’ve told him to memory, from your favorite book to the throwaway comment you made about liking a specific shade of lipstick. Two dates and he’s already memorized you like a poem. It’s exhilarating. 

This third date had been the one to seal the deal. 

Sure, the anxiety is still there, and it might have caused you to have one too many glasses of wine over dinner, but still. Everything had gone so beautifully. A stroll around the art gallery where Spencer had eagerly shared the history behind the paintings. When you’d paused at a particular hallway, he stood right by a window and was hit just so by the golden afternoon sun that his eyes turned to the color of moss, you could have sworn you’ve forgotten the ability to breathe. You’re convinced you were the walking equivalent to the heart eyes emoji at that point, staring up at him with a starry gaze, all throughout the following dinner at an intimate restaurant, where you allowed yourself to indulge in some wine. 

Not that you needed it. At that point, you felt so relaxed and at ease with him that you were afraid you might float away. The alcohol only served to heighten the giddiness, casting the world in soft hues of sparkling gold. Like Spencer’s eyes. Which reminds you—

“You’ve the prettiest eyes,” You’re giggling as he walks you to your door, a lean arm firmly wrapped around your waist  to steady you. Head angled up, all of your attention is on him while you walk up the stairs, which isn’t helping your stumbling gait in the slightest. 

Despite his attempts to fight it, a small smile pulls at his lips. He’s obviously trying to seem stern, but his eyes look upon you with fondness. “I should have cut you off sooner.”

“Mhm, no, I wouldn’t have let you.”

“You’re gonna feel this tomorrow,” he warns as he stops at your doorstep, “Keys.”

You fumble through your purse, quickly locating them and pressing the keys into his palm. He slots it easily into the lock, and turns. 

He hesitates. Your hands shake as you wait.

“Can I trust you to make it to your bed in one piece?” he murmurs, fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“Probably not. You might need to help me out,” you whisper, even though you’re not really that drunk. It’s a (very thinly veiled) attempt to get him inside your apartment, in your bed. You’re not sure where you got the confidence.

But it’s Spencer, the sweet man who frequents the same bookshop in which you also spend a lot of time. The same man who’d been so shy about making a move that he decided to buy you a book and slip his number into the pages. 

So there’s no pressure, he had scrawled in messy, rushed letters. Embarrassingly, the note is in your wallet, kept as a memento.

It’s him, and the entire date has been a series of signs that simply validated the small (massive) crush you’ve had on him. You don’t want it to end yet. Or ever, really. If he’d let you keep him forever. 

Ever the gentleman, he nods and guides you inside. You stumble onto your couch with a low groan, an arm flung over your eyes as the harsh overhead light flickers open. Quick, shuffling footsteps, and then the couch dips beside you.

“Here, have some water.”

You accept the glass with a lopsided smile. The way his eyes linger on you would be enough to make you melt when you’re sober, but right now, with alcohol coursing through your veins, it’s downright cruel. “Your eyes are so pretty.”

“You’ve mentioned that already,” he says, urging you to drink, “Thank you. You have very beautiful eyes too.”

Once the glass is empty, he sets it on your coffee table and kneels down. With gentle hands, he eases the heels off of your feet, fingers pressing into the ankles carefully. 

“Come on,” he helps you to your feet, and you all but become deadweight in his arms as he walks with you to your bedroom. 

Spurned mainly by alcohol, you lift yourself to your tiptoes for a kiss. His surprise makes him pause, but he kisses you back gently, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. It makes you sigh, this tender way he likes to kiss, cradling your face as though it’s the most important thing he’s ever held. When your tongue sweeps across his lower lip, he pulls back.

“What—”

“You’re drunk,” his lips move to your forehead, “You need to sleep.”

“But Spence…” it’s childish to whine when he denies you, but it’s the only thing your dejected, alcohol-addled brain is capable of doing.

He chuckles, slowly walking you backwards onto your bed. “No, angel, it wouldn’t sit right with me.”

“I’m giving you all my consent right now.” you pout as he hands you a disposable towel from your bedside table. With a huff, you set on wiping away your makeup as he rummages through your drawers for pajamas. He finds some shorts and an old tshirt, and helps you out of your dress, shaking his head as you try (and fail) to seduce him into sleeping with you.

“Shouldn’t have had that last glass if this was how you wanted the night to end.” he says,  a teasing smile on his lips.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?”

He kisses your temple as a response, and gently pushes you to lay down. Chuckling, he sits on the edge of your bed, a hand on your knee. “I just don’t want you to be inebriated if we’re going to be physically intimate. Especially not the first time.”

You pout, “Boo, you’re too sweet for your own good.” It earns you a laugh from him, and it’s enough to wipe the pout off your lips, “Will you at least sleep over?”

He seems to consider it, running his hand up and down your thigh. However, it is as though the universe is conspiring against you, and his phone rings. You watch as his brows furrowed in concern as he checks whatever message he’s received. “I have to go in, we have a case.”

Your heart drops. The pout returns, “It’s Friday night.”

“I know, angel.” he leans forward and kisses your forehead again, almost in apology, “I’m sorry, I did tell you I don’t work traditional hours.”

Your hands close around his shirt and you pull him down. He surrenders to your eagerness this time, kissing you deeply, hands tangled in your hair, before he stops, breathing ragged. “I’ll make it up to you when I return, I promise.” he kisses you again, languidly, savoring the last few moments before he has to leave. 

You don’t have his eidetic memory, but you memorize the feeling of his lips all the same. “Stay safe,” you whisper when he finally pulls back, feeling oddly sobered up now that the reality of him leaving you is more present, “Text me when you can.”

“I will, angel.” he gives you one last kiss on your forehead before he stands up, “Drink lots of water tomorrow, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

You nod, and stare at his retreating back with a sad smile, blinking away the tears when you hear your apartment door click into place, signaling his departure. You try to tell yourself you’re being silly. It’s been three dates and you’re already acting so clingy. You chalk it up to the alcohol, twisting your feelings. Earlier, it had made the world seem effervescent, but now that he’s left, it only exacerbates your loneliness.

Is this how it’s going to be when you date him? He’d laid it out quite clearly during your conversations, that sometimes they get pressing cases that require them to drop everything else.  You aren’t sure you’re prepared to have dates be interrupted with one phone call. Morning afters without him beside you. With a sigh, you sink into bed, eyes closed, and only the memory of his lips to tide you through the night.

[meatgrinder-0]

something that ive found myself thinking about a lot recently is the loss of autonomy that you have over your identity and what makes you "human" when you die.

(as has been said before by multiple different people) technically ford does not die when he goes through the portal, but as many have said at this point--in a metaphysical way when he goes through the portal he is dead in the eyes of his dimension, so i find in the narrative he experiences a similar loss of his humanity and in the same way that might've occurred with his death, his memory for any that have access to any form of it constructs him into an idea rather than a person.

and really anything can be said and done with him by the people who are still "alive" when this occurs. since he is in all aspects dead people can use him to justify their actions, as a figure in their concepts, and imagine him up to be whoever they want him to be for as long as he remains dead. the audience of course also partook in these same things prior to his reveal by theorizing about what type of person he was or how he might fit into the narrative as a person but to be more specific to examples of this idea in the show is how stan and dipper see ford as an idea.

due to being absent ford had no possible way to influence what stan thought he would want him to do about the portal outside of his existing warnings in his journals so stan is able to twist ford into a justification to work towards opening the portal, and during the length of his work on it according to alex's statements about stan "expecting ford to be weak and in need of help when he came out of the portal" (i feel the likely useless need to say whatever a creator says about their work is always only as canon as one wants it to be but this is worth mentioning here and i think it makes sense contextually within the text) the ford who comes back is so jarring because in his "death" he's become an ideal of what stan wants to see in him to play into his hero fantasy and hopes of earning back his appreciation

and of course as i think about a normal amount of times per day--the duration of the show presents the author as a figure that is wrapped up in a concept of ford while presenting him in a much more mythical format--another one of gravity falls' mysteries. pretty much every main character that isnt stan views him in this mystical light throughout the show with dipper being the prime example and uses the idea of "the author" as a driving force to pursue the questions that the town begs them to ask. there is something to be said about how creators of the show refer to journal 3 as "its own character" in a way that clearly separates it from it's author. even outside of the universe of the show itself, even in the show's own writing team ford--somehow despite being already being only a concept by virtue of being fictional--is stripped of humanity and becomes an even further abstracted concept.

but even to the ford who is alive the self who had gone through the portal is also a concept. i know this idea isnt explored much in canon if at all but bear with me here while i make shit up for fun--in a way, we ourselves the way we are now are dying near constantly. when we wake up each morning we of course have access to the same memories and the same body and the same experiences as the self we were before we fell asleep, but if we were to get existential, how can we be sure that we are the same consciousness that we were before?

even if this is a bit too absurd of a concept to be applying to a messy braindump "analysis" of a fictional character theres something about how extreme change in a person (often from trauma as ford has experienced for Obvious reasons) or even just the passage of time leaves the former self as nothing more but a memory to even the body that it once inhabited.

as i said theres not much to connect this to in the canon of the text, but i do believe that ford does see his past self who wrote the journals as an idea just as much as anyone else in his life did.

[dustysalmon]

I've been thinking, can we have a nsfw alphabet about Steb? (or Scar), I haven't seen anything about it yet, so we really need it. (it's really up to you, it can be sfw or nsfw)🙏🏻

Ohhhh anon, I'm so glad you asked. Here we go! (might do Scar and sfw later)

STEB NS//FW ALPHABET

More Steb headcanons

MDNI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you think that fish-man is going to sleep after doing the do, you are WRONG! King of aftercare, gentle caresses on your skin, cuddles, massage (he uses special techniques he learnt during his paramedical training), and he will also be happy to cook something for you if you’re hungry. If he was a bit rougher than usual, he will kiss every sore spot on your body, for hours if you ask him

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your mouth. He loves everything about your mouth. They way it moves when you talk or smile, the sounds that come out of it when he kisses you or makes love to you. He also loves the things you do to him with this mouth

On himself, he is quite proud of his hands. They’re quite soft, delicate and skilful (you definitely know something about that last one). He likes to use his hands to show you just how much he adores you

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It can get a little messy due to the amount of cum he produces. It keeps dripping and dripping, it’s a lot to handle but the two of you have learnt how to deal with it. Also, Steb always cleans after himself, good fish-man that he is. The refractory period can take a while, though, but he has hands and a mouth for a reason

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves to see his fluids mix with yours, like he has to see it, visually. Something about getting down and dirty

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not all that experienced, he hasn’t been with many people before. The first time you get intimate,  he will map your entire body and commit every detail to memory to learn exactly what you like. His observing skills and ability to learn make up for his lack of experience, nothing to worry about here

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Watching you ride him is his favourite, and nothing comes close. He gets to see your body AND your eyes, and that’s the most important thing to him. He is utterly and unequivocally in love with your body, and he is mesmerised by the way you move on top of him. If you hold hands while you do it, it’s all over for him

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Steb doesn’t play when it comes to sex, he’s very serious (in a romantic way of course), and will be driven by the need to make you feel loved and leave you satisfied. He definitely gets a little goofier during after care

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Steb is completely hairless down there. The only hair you will find is on his head, and he takes great care of those because his species don’t usually have any. He’s quite proud of his undercut, thank you very much

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Romantic like you wouldn’t believe, lots of eye contact because he always wants to make sure that you’re feeling good. Prepare yourself for a lot of intense kissing sessions. His main love language is touch, and no part of your body will be left behind.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He will sometimes indulge in little solo sessions when he takes a bath. It’s a bit of a spiritual exercise for him. One time, you walked in on him jacking off, and asked him to keep going while you touched yourself too. And it has become something you really like doing

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Steb has a bit of a submissive nature, and praise really works for him. Call him a good boy and he will be done for. Sometimes you will say that in the middle of the day just to see him blush furiously. When you ride him, he really likes when you get dominant and pin his wrists above his head, that will turn him into a whimpering mess in no time

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a romantic, so the bed will be his go to. Because of his introverted nature he is not really into risky locations where there would be a chance of getting caught. He won’t say no if you wanna ride him on the couch, though. Also, shower/bath sex, he’s the most comfortable whenever there’s water around

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Kiss that fish-man’s neck once, and you know neither of you will be getting out of the house for the next hour at least. It’s not that his neck is particularly sensitive, but there’s something so sensual about the way you guide his head back to have full access. He will drop whatever he’s doing and pull you into the bedroom

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn’t mind getting a bit rough, but he won’t slap/hit you, spit on you, or choke you. If he wraps his hand around your neck, he’s very careful not to press against your throat. If you're into that, it's something you will have to talk about

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Steb’s tongue game is unmatched. It’s much longer than humans, very strong, and it doesn’t tire easily. He will make you cum relentlessly with his mouth alone, only occasionally using his hand. He eats you out enthusiastically, moaning while he licks and sucks you all over. And most of all, he will feast on your juices and won’t leave a single drop. He just loves the taste of you

He likes receiving too. He will guide your movements ever so gently and will be extra careful not to thrust into your mouth without warning. His favourite thing is pulling all the way out, and then watch as his sizeable length disappears all the way back into your throat

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Steb doesn’t fuck, he makes love, unless you ask him to be rough. Sensual tender lovemaking all around, slow and deep while maintaining eye contact. He wants you to feel every single one of his ridges inside you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t mind it, but they’re not his go to. He’d rather take his time with you to show you the depth of his adoration. You usually indulge in quickies if the two of you have busy schedules

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s a very curious guy, always eager to learn, and so he wants to try every position in the book. He loves the idea of exploring his sexuality with you and experimenting. It’s the same when it comes to kinks. If you wish to try something new, he’s down. If it’s something a little extreme, he will have his reservations, but he will try, for you

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last very long, and you usually come multiple times before he does. However, once he has orgasmed, you will have to be patient

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any, but if you have a collection of your own, he’s very curious about it and will ask you how everything works and what it is used for. He will gladly implement them in your sex life

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t really understand the concept of teasing, maybe it’s a species-related thing, but to him, it feels like he’s denying you, hurting you, and he doesn’t like that. Recently, you’ve tried to teach him that denial can be very pleasurable by teasing him during foreplay, and he is starting to understand how that works. It’s a slow process

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Steb doesn’t speak, but he will moan. A lot. He will start grunting when he’s close and his face gills will move as well. If you tease him, it won’t take long for him to whine inside a pillow or into his hand, truly a delightful sound

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sex in front of a mirror, yes please. Again, if he gets to watch you from a different angle, he’s down. Your bodies are very different, but seeing the way they mould so beautifully together, the way your body responds to his and vice-versa, that’s sacred to him 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It’s hidden in a genital pouch, and frees itself naturally when there’s sex in the air. Not exceedingly thick, but quite long. Multiple ridges which are ideally placed, and fins that are here for your pleasure, and your pleasure only

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

About average, he can go a long time without having sex, it doesn’t bother him. But if you tempt him, tease him, or start nuzzling and kissing down his neck, he will become very needy 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s always the last one to go to sleep because he is on aftercare duty. He just has to make sure you’re okay before doing anything else. He will stroke your head and run his fingers along your skin until you fall asleep. Sometimes, he will even hum a little tune

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

Series Masterlist is here.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), Heavy angst, hurt, memory loss, forced abortion, implied pregnancy, obsession, Soldier Boy gets hurt, reader gets hurt, established relationship, manipulation

Word Count: 4842

A/N: English is not my first language.

This is inspired by the song 'Remembrance' by Memoria Futuri.༊

You were alone in the coach watching TV when you heard the door open. You instantly got up and stared at Ben when your ruminations started to take over. He shot you a little smile that made your heart race. 

Ben sent you a meaningful look, and you followed him to his room just as Butcher and the others were getting into a fight.

His broad, powerful arms wrapped snugly around your entire body as he left his shield behind and gave you an instant hug. It was unclear who rushed to get into the arms of the other one first. You planted a gentle kiss on his neck, your fingers trailing behind the ends of his messy hair. 

With his gloved fingertips gently brushing your cheek, he whispered, “I missed you so fucking much.”

Between his hard kisses, you laughed and said, “It's only been two days. But I missed you too.”

After giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead, he began to remove his suit and smirked at you, saying, “Yeah, I'd miss me too. So, what did you do when I was away?”

“Actually, nothing. Kimiko and I just played some video gaming all day. I was losing all the time.” You laughed, “Well, I wouldn't want to win against a supe anyway.”

“How dare she?” he asked, smirking, as you stood up and gave him a hard-back hug. You then planted a strong kiss on his bare back and rested your cheek against it. 

“You act like you didn't miss me as much as I missed you, but you can't just keep your hands away from me, right?” Ben laughed, turned around, and gave you a tight squeeze while firmly holding your ass and giving you a passionate kiss. 

Your hands on his beard went into his hair and pulled, trying to stop him, as he pressed his shaft to your body a little too roughly and eagerly. You were moaning softly into his mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, don't you even tell me-.”

“I'm sore, quite a lot,” you said as soon as you smiled into his mouth. 

“I hate this word. It's been two days already,” he grumbled while keeping touch your body and applying a light pressure, showing his need for you. 

Your fingertips trailed seductively across his tense chest to make him go a little bit wild. “Well, you shouldn't have fucked me all day until I couldn't move just because you would be staying away for only two days,” you said with a giggle. 

He whispered, “You're enjoying this, aren't you?” and planted long kisses on your neck, seemingly trying to convince you change your idea. 

“Of course not,” you muttered as you watched adjusting himself in his sweatpants while maintaining eye contact and then abruptly letting you go with a grunt after giving your ass a little slap. 

“I'll...give you something,” he said, as if he had suddenly remembered a certain thing. “I actually bought you something.” 

With an excited question, “What is it?” You tried to see what was hidden in his hands as he gave you an affectionate little smile. 

“You know those cocksucker CIA bitches pay me well nowadays, as they should, and I'm aware of the fact the fact that I didn't buy you a gift at all, though we have been together for almost a year,” he said. He threw the box aside, showed you a nice ring, and took your hand gently into his, placing it before you could even react. “Do you like it?”

You eventually said, “It's so beautiful,” as you gazed in awe at the ring on your finger. “Ben, this is the most beautiful gift I have ever received. Thank you.” 

Ben took a breath of relief and stilled his hand around your belly. When he was watching, you were looking admiringly at the ring. A proud smile appeared on his face. “You know, once I'm done with Butcher, his crew, and Homelander tomorrow, everything will be different, right?”

When he spoke of the following day, the atmosphere grew more dense. Since he was growing harder to handle every day, you had been under a lot of stress for the past few weeks, but you tried not to show it to him in order to keep him from becoming more concerned. 

You nodded to him and said, “I know.” 

“Hey, it's going to be easy, and I'll be finished with all of them. Like we planned earlier, we'll begin a new life somewhere else. Just you and me.”

Ben's hands lingered around your neck and bare shoulders, giving you the most genuine smile. 

To break the tense air, you teased, “Are you sure you want to share a life with me, away from the company?” as he gently pulled you up and laid you down on the bed in between your small laughs. 

“I shouldn't think about that for the second time,” he muttered, smirking at you as he noticed your face falling. 

You asked him, “What would happen if you thought about it for a second time, though?” and gently hit him, taking care not to injure yourself. 

“Well, I guess you'll never know, so I better not think about it at all,” Ben said, his smile widening as he saw your reaction to it. 

“Asshole,” you gave him a chest slap. 

He grumbled, “I just gave you a ring, and your ungrateful mouth has already started to bite me,” taking advantage of your weak spot to begin tickling you. 

You were so oversensitive that you cried while laughing and shouted in between when he kept tickling you mercilessly. 

“Try calling me names like that once more. Do you want to speak now? Did your tongue get caught by a cat?” As he was on top of you and you were attempting to shove his hands away as if you could ever manage it, he chuckled. 

You choked out, “Bear Dick. Idiot,” and he gave you even more tickling. “All right, please forgive me. I promise not to speak such vile words to you again, sir, Soldier Boy.”

He ended his game with you and said, “Oh, yeah?” He was obviously amused that you addressed him by his supe name. “Are you going to be a good girl?” 

You spoke softly, “I will,” in between gasps. “Aren't I always?” 

Ben pushed himself between your thighs and said, “I don't know; I need to be reminded,” making you feel his hardness. “I might have a weak memory.”

Although you both understood that you couldn't give him everything he desired at this time, that didn't mean you were unable to fulfill his needs. 

As you put your palm over his cock through his sweatpants and muttered, “It's clear,” It was insane that he hadn't softened at all. “I guess I might have to show you how good I am at this point.”

He groaned softly and watched as he removed his huge cock from his pants, placing his hands on both sides of your head. Considering how little your hand was in comparison to his hardness, it made you feel even more horny. 

You made him go a little bit crazy by asking him, in an innocent tone, “What do you need me to do?” Even though you knew you were going too far because you knew he was dying to get inside, you couldn't help but torture him. 

Your thumb pushed the sensitive tip of his redened cock before he could say anything, causing him to growl loudly and curse. “You like it, don't you? You like driving me insane by refusing to let me fuck your cunt.”

Whispering, “Maybe,” you gathered the pre-cum and placed it on your lips while staring directly into his eyes. 

“Fuck that,” he grumbled, quickly picking up your nightgown and ripping off your underwear before tossing it onto the bed. Perhaps you were pushing your luck a little too hard. 

“Ben, I really want it too, but I'm sore,” you muttered, your hands coming to a stop on his rough flesh. 

With a moan, he murmured, “Calm down; unfortunetely I won't fuck you,” and spread your legs. You both groaned as you felt his cock on your pussy. “But it doesn't mean that I can't enjoy feeling you.”

“Use both hands,” he said, and you promptly followed his instructions. When he took over, his body temperature was really high. “Tighter.” 

“Are you sure?” you questioned in a doubtful tone. “I don't want to hurt you.” 

“You think you can hurt me, baby?” he said, placing a possessive fingertips on your chin as the corner of his lips curled. “Now, use both hands to hold it tightly as much as you can.”

His moan was satisfied when you hesitantly followed his instructions, and his strong grasp on your chin caused your heart to speed up. He began to move his hips and slide into your hands between his groans, fucking into them since your palms were slippery with his pre-cum. 

The sound of his heavy balls hitting your clit filled the bedroom, making your cheeks flush. 

Ben moaned, “Come on, baby, do it tighter,” and in an effort to maintain control, he placed both of his hands firmly on both sides of your belly on the sheets. You were getting hornier seeing him try to be gentle with you when all he wanted to do was be rough. You sensed that your pussy was already wet. 

You were doing everything in your power to hold him as tightly as possible in compliance with his orders, but his power was unmatched and was quickly fucking into your hands, making it more difficult for you to grip his cock. 

He immediately groaned in protest when you withdrew one of your hands, but he waited for you to make another move. You both gasped as you began to give him a hard, forceful pump. His veins were clearly apparent, and you could tell he was getting close because he felt considerably heavier. 

He gently moved your hand away with hardness before you could ask him anything. Ben pressed himself on your pussy, moving himself up and down with forceful movements, both fisted hands on both sides of the sheet as he stroked his cock against your wetness. 

Your walls clenched, and you lifted your hips to match his motions. When he began kissing you, you tried to stop your moaning in his mouth by placing your hands on his biceps and holding on tightly.

Ben watched you with an intense glare as your walls began to tighten around nothingness and you started shaking from your climax.

He mumbled, “Yeah, just like that, baby,” as you continued to scream and orgasm.

As soon as your orgasmic effects subsided, Ben grabbed your torn underwear from the bed and began to spill himself over it in front of your startled eyes. Between his grunts, you kept your hands on his flexing biceps as he continued to spill his thick ropes on your torn underwear.

He gasped and beat his cock a little harder to totally spill himself. “I'll come inside you next time,” he said. 

You teased him, “You better,” as your fingers worked over his tense muscles. 

“You little tease,” he said as he finished throwing your ripped underwear on the ground and planting a forceful kiss on your forehead and neck. 

You yawned, and Ben embraced you in his warm arms and adjusted your nightie very gently, right after he'd shoved his dick back into his sweatpants. 

“You smell exceptionally nice these days,” he said, continuing to smell your neck and hair. 

“So you're telling me I smell bad normally?” 

“Of course, that wasn't what I meant, my dear. You're also a little more sensitive than normal, huh? And pretty  dizzy.” To calm you down, Ben planted a kiss on the corners of your mouth. 

You silently said, “Maybe it's because you're touching my nerves, old man,” and buried your head in his heated chest. You must have felt exhausted in such a short period of time due to the powerful orgasm. 

“Behave. You were so docile and obedient moments ago.” You gasped in surprise as Ben gave you a light slap on your bare ass and said, “Now your claws are back, I see.”

You moaned out, “Let me sleep,” resting one leg on his. 

He laughed as he saw you practically nod off in a matter of seconds. 

Ben immediately whispered, “I love you,” causing your lips to curl with happiness and your heart to melt. He was undoubtedly aware of how these three words would affect you. 

“I know, and I love you.”

You felt Ben's lips curve on your hair as his arms tightened around your entire body. 

You gave Ben a small smile, hoping that this day would end as soon as possible, while Butcher, Ben, and the others were talking about what to do in Vought Tower when they encountered Homelander.

“Now, you're all going inside, behind this door, and waiting for us, ladies.”

“What are you doing?” Annie answered immediately, and Hughie gave her support against Butcher and Maeve.

“We don't need any more issues than necessary. It's Vought Tower that we're going to go to, not some ordinary place. Now, get inside, dear one.”

Hughie, Frenchie, and Annie began to argue with Butcher, telling him they wouldn't divulge what they were commanded, but Ben threatened them all by simply touching his gun, so they all gave in.

Just as you were taking a step back, Ben slapped your ass and urged you gently into the vast space with a mischievous smirk on his face.

“You get inside, especially,” Ben muttered, disregarding all of your complaints. “Be a good girl.”

Ben gave you a wink before they closed the door. You wished you could have assisted him there; you wanted to be with him.

Annie and Kimiko finally succeeded in breaking through the thick, locked door after a great deal of effort.

You immediately said, “I'll come with you too,” in a serious manner. Before anyone else rejected you, you stated, “I'm not the only regular human here. As a member of the team, I will be coming.”

You sighed with relief as Frenchie and MM finally nodded at you after exchanging an odd look.

Thanks to Annie, you were able to enter Vought Tower despite its difficulty. Given how easily Ben was able to smell you, you intended to keep an eye on the issue from a distance so as not to burden or distract him. On the other hand, your eyes grew wide as you noticed Ben and Butcher fighting. Actually, Butcher was the one who attacked him nonstop. Annie looked on in disbelief as Frenchie and MM hurriedly fled the area with some things in their hands.

You cried out, “Butcher!” with fury as soon as you witnessed Butcher unleash his super lasering powers on Ben. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“And what the hell are you doing here?” Ben shoved Butcher to the ground, gave him a disgusted look, and roared back. “Get the fuck out of here.”

His shield was shattered.

When you went to Annie and Kimiko to tell them to take action and find a solution to this situation, they both attacked Ben as well, backing Butcher. Your heart was racing behind your chest as Butcher and Ben continued to fight and hit each other.

When her eyes began to shine with maximum intensity, you cried as loudly as you could, “Annie, stop this madness,” but no one was paying attention. You could have found and utilized one right now if you hadn't injected yourself with enough Temp-V.

Ben violently grabbed Kimiko by the neck and threw her. Before you even knew what was going on and attempted to break up Butcher and Ben's intense fight, Butcher threw you against the closest table with such force that your head was hurting so badly that you were unable to find the strength to get back up.

It felt like the back of your head was bleeding, as was your lower stomach. You continued to mumble Ben's name until you lost consciousness. You were quite concerned for Ben when you last saw them trying to put gas on his face in an attempt to get him to fall back asleep. He was betrayed by his team another time, and you couldn't even stop it.

It was unfair and cruel because, if you could only get it through today, you and Ben would have too many dreams come true.

Ben watched you lose consciousness as a result of Butcher throwing you away, acting as though it didn't matter that you were a frail human and that you would die there. His chest began to glow—it was actually burning—at that moment. He was completely out of control just by looking at you, even though you were still breathing.

He knew that you needed him, so he wanted to stop himself. If he had blown up right now, he wouldn't have cared if he killed everyone in his immediate vicinity, but he could have killed you in less than a second as well. Yet Ben's reasonable rage towards Butcher and everyone else persisted. He began to lose consciousness, but thankfully, Queen Maeve grabbed him and leaped out of the window before he exploded. You would be alright; at least your heartbeats were still strong.

As the gas put Soldier Boy to sleep once more, Butcher and the others inhaled deeply as they observed his hauntingly dozing body on the bed, prepared for his return to Russia. When Butcher first spoke with the CIA about it a year ago, it was already part of the plan. However, because Homelander was still alive and they all risked everything for nothing, Butcher just didn't know it would be carried out in this way, and the whole operation was a complete failure.

Kimiko began speaking hurriedly in sign language, concerned for you, as she carefully picked up your unconscious body and laid it on the table.

Frenchie exclaimed, “Kimiko is right. We have to take her to the hospital. She is bleeding from the head and everywhere.”

“Alright, you're right. Since I'm the one who did the job, I'll take care of this, right?” Butcher muttered in a rough tone. “Frenchie and Kimiko, follow me. It looks like cleaning up this mess is going to take some time. Right now, we can't go to the hospital.”

Butcher had contacted a long-time medical acquaintance of his who handled sensitive cases with undercover agents in order to maintain confidentiality when necessary. He knew two doctors to solve this mess, fortunately. Once they had a conversation and you had given them the information they required, they put you in the cold bed, and Kimiko did her best to wipe the blood off your head.

One of the doctors stated after an hour, “She seems fine, but I can't guarantee that her brain is functioning properly.”

“What the heck do you mean?” With a glance at your sleeping body, Butcher asked.

“Her brain injury appears to be rather severe. Memory loss is quite likely. Of course, we can't be certain of anything. She is, nevertheless, physically alright.”

“Well, as long as she's alive, it wouldn't be all that horrible.” Butcher smirked and put his hands in his pockets with a smug expression on his face. Kimiko gave him a hideous look and was clearly upset with him. “I'm sure there are many things she wants to forget anyway,” Butcher said.

“But it's going to be difficult for her to accept her pregnancy at this point,” the doctor said, looking at him perplexed.

“The fuck?” Butcher cried out, hands on his hips, gaze locked on your abdomen as he studied your unconscious body. “Are you fucking with me? Are you positive, for sure?”

“Mon Dieu,” the Frenchie muttered. “That's not good.”

The doctor added, “Of course we are sure,” as he held the files in his hands.

“However, she is still extremely early in her pregnancy. Perhaps not even she knows it herself.”

The doctor continued, even before Butcher reacted. “There's more. It does not appear to be a typical pregnancy.”

“For god’s sake, give me some slack. What do you mean at this point?” Butcher yelled out.

“I'm trying to say that it appears to be a fully developed fetus developing inside her. The fetus appears to be in excellent health based on what I can tell from her results. It's definitely a supe baby.”

Kimiko and Frenchie exchanged a look, and her eyes grew wide. For a minute, silence engulfed the room, and none of them could think of anything to say.

Butcher inhaled deeply and narrowed his gaze as he studied your figure, his mind racing with ideas. “So you're telling me she's pregnant with a supe baby, right?”

The doctor said, “That's exactly what I'm telling you. Who's the father, by the way?”

The doctor stared at Butcher, Frenchie, and Kimiko curiously while they looked at each other, troubled. They weren't entirely certain about the nature of your relationship with Soldier Boy, but they were aware that you two had a sexual interaction. They were aware that you only ever saw him and that you didn't know other super heroes than Soldier Boy.

“It's classified.” Butcher immediately cut it off. “All right, prepare her for the abortion. She must get rid of this thing right away to prevent the situation from getting out of hand.”

“What?” Frenchie yelled; he was horrified by Butcher's callousness and his discussion of killing your unborn child as if it were no big deal.

With a furious look on her face, Kimiko grabbed Butcher by the chest and began yelling in sign language.

“Kimiko is exactly right. You have no business deciding what to do with her body. It's between her and him. Fuck off, Butcher. You're being too much.”

“Are you two fucking out of minds?” Butcher screamed, his nerves already raw from what had transpired. “Obviously, I wouldn't make this choice if she was carrying a typical fetus rather than the most dangerous one. Are you even mindful of what happened to my Becca?”

Butcher had never considered talking about Becca and had disliked discussing his past, but with Kimiko and Frenchie staring at him with disapproval, he realized that he had to. He had to try, even though he knew they would never be able to understand fully.

“She was treated by the most skilled physicians in Vought when she became pregnant by—you know who. Do you know what happened? The monster that was growing inside her womb destroyed every organ and tore her stomach apart when her water broke in an attempt to go out. There, she fucking nearly died in her bloody bed. Almost.” Butcher spat forth his hatred, emphasizing every word in order to make clear the gravity of the situation. “Y/N will never survive this. She also took a great amount of Tempt-V in the past few months. Her body is already too fragile.”

“Don't give me that kind of look. I'm not enjoying this, but someone needs to make important decisions for the better,” Butcher angrily remarked to Kimiko, who remained expressionless and continued to gaze at him with hatred, as though he were her biggest enemy. “It appears that she will likely suffer from memory loss without realizing it. Since we already took care of the matter there, she can start fresh. That man will never enter her life again after all, okay?”

“No matter what,” Frenchie inhaled deeply. He didn't like what was happening and was concerned by it. “She'll be living a lie. This is wrong.”

Butcher interrupted him as he was getting close to your sleeping body on the white bed, saying, “Shut the fuck up. What she is unaware of is not going to hurt her. Here is where we are going to solve this situation. After all, we are in the business of killing supes. Stop complicating things and becoming overly sensitive.”

“Screw you.” Frenchie retreated a step. “You're discussing the murder of a baby. Whether or not it's a supe doesn't matter. I refuse to participate in this.”

“Are you truly aware of what will happen to her if she gives birth? First of all, she is not going to survive and will die in childbirth. Second, Vought will learn of the baby's existence and raise it to become their new puppet, capable of murdering others for amusement. Numerous people will be harmed by it. We cannot handle one more offspring of a bastard. Get your ass act straight and quit being so fucking emotional because she won't even know this.”

If Butcher hadn't been on Temp-V, Kimiko's hands could have crushed his chest from giving him such a severe shove by the chest. She kept the same expression on her face and kept on utilizing sign language.

“From now on, nothing can stop me, so you two go fuck out of here. She'll be alright when this nightmare is over. We are all fortunate to have discovered this crap earlier than she did, and her mental health will benefit even more from the assistance with her memory loss.”

“Come on Kimiko, let's go,” Frenchie mumbled while examining your body with sympathy. He understood that nothing would work out the way Butcher planned since it was now beyond disaster. This was not good.

Kimiko tried to talk to Frenchie, but he said, “It's not our job. This is bigger than us, Kimiko. Let's just get the fuck out of there.”

She had an expression of despair on her face, and despite her repeated attempts to speak with Frenchie, he begged her to get out of the chilly, desolate room as soon as possible. They unwillingly exited, leaving you in the room alone with three monsters.

A doctor said, “Butcher, we have known each other for years, and I know you are not a bad guy, but we cannot just kill her baby without her permission.”

Butcher inhaled deeply as he placed a finger on your covered abdomen and uttered, “That's not an innocent baby there; that's a monster, a natural Supe, and a potential killer. You already know that the CIA never approves such things. We will not permit the birth of any more Homelanders. Fucking do it already and keep your mouth shut; you'll be paid handsomely.”

The female doctor began to get ready to do the procedure. “We don't want to deal with an issue if she or the man she got pregnant by finds out this,” she stated.

“They won't; this will remain a secret, and nobody will ever discuss it, so let's be positive; she doesn't remember anything, am I right? How fortunate we are to live in a nation where medicine and technology are so advanced. That would be very helpful as well, my dear.” Butcher winked at the doctor, acting as though everything was normal.

Butcher scowled when he noticed the elegant green ring on your finger after they had both briefly left the room. He had no idea what this meant or even whether it was from Soldier Boy, but it was preferable to leave no trace and not take any more chances. He removed your ring from your finger and threw it into the closest tin in the room for this reason.

After what seemed like an hour of waiting, they eventually finished the procedure, and Butcher exhaled with relief when he was informed that it was finished. Where Butcher tossed your ring, they threw the dead fetus that was removed from your body in cold blood. Everything was in order.

Butcher spoke with the doctors about your condition once more, ensuring that you slept until you had fully recovered physically. He also paid them off and reminded them not to discuss what had happened with anyone else.

He knew you would soon be alright.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @smexydilflover @deebris @coolrobloxkid28 @endrfairy @libby99hb @raynamorono23 @cwutesygrl @ladysparkles78 @seokjinluvb0t   @deangirl96 @whendiditendalthoughenjoyment @mostlymarvelgirl

[bestruction]

hii could you make gojo x wife!reader. Reader is itadori's older sister. A special grade sorcerer and incharge of second years. She holds very strong cursed technique like psychic manipulation or she's a vessel of a cursed god (whatever you prefer it's your choice)

Could u please make angst/comfort oneshot. Reader help gojo in fighting against sukuna, they won but at the cost of reader. She went into a coma. She also had saved Nanami during Shibuya so nanami is also present. (Gojo is alive)

You can also show how everyone reacted specially Satoru and Yuji and recap of the memories they share.

Please let me know wheather your interested in doing it or not!!!!!!!

please don't mind my grammar. English is not my first language................

Warnings: none Notes: Thank you for your request. I had a lot of fun writing for Gojo and ended up with a few scenarios ideas for him in the store. Also, your grammar is fine <3 Don't worry (Plus, english is also not my native language so high five)

The hospital room smelled too clean. After so long, the usual white walls felt infuriating. Gojo hated it. The sharp scent of antiseptic, the way the light filtered too harshly through the blinds, and the flowers on the windowsill made the place feel like a shrine rather than a room where someone lived, breathed, and existed.

He sat slouched in the stiff chair by your bedside, one leg stretched out, hands dangling between his knees. The blindfold was shoved carelessly into his pocket days ago. He hadn't worn it since the moment they dragged him here, bleeding and laughing and terrified because you had fallen and you hadn't gotten back up.

"I told you not to fight," he muttered for the thousandth time, voice low, fraying at the edges. He raked a hand through his messy silver hair, tugging at the roots until it hurt. "But nooo, you had to be a hero. Had to throw yourself into the fire because you can't stand seeing me in danger."

Sukuna was gone, the Jujutsu world was finally returning to its tracks but he couldn’t care less. He met you while you worked as a teacher. He thought you were…infuriating at first. You had a special kind of cursed technique that allowed physics manipulation through your vital energy. Of course, something so powerful would have a high price. He lost count of how many fights you two had because he didn’t want you to get involved in missions anymore. He wanted you to work training the students and preserve yourself because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. 

Did that stop you from jumping into the fight against Sukuna the moment you saw him bleeding? Absolutely not. You would throw yourself in fire and turn into ashes before seeing something or someone you love disappear without doing anything. But being so damn stubborn was part of the reason why he fell in love with you. 

The monitors beeped softly, the only sign that somewhere, deep beneath the broken surface, you were still fighting. Gojo slouched forward again, reaching out to brush your hair back from your face with trembling fingers. You looked so peaceful, it made him furious.

“You better wake up soon,” He said, his words low as he tapped the back of your hand with his fingers “I miss you telling me to ‘shut up’ already” 

You didn’t move. He waited, watching your eyes, your fingertips, and nothing. He scoffed a bitter, fond sound. 

A gust of wind stirred the flowers on the windowsill, filling the room with a sickly sweet scent. Gojo's lip curled. He wanted to throw them all out. Rip the damn stems apart with his hands.

"They keep bringing flowers," he muttered. "Yuji, Megumi, even that moron Panda. I hate it. Makes it feel like I’m visiting your grave." His thumb brushed lightly over the back of your hand, seeking something—anything. "You’re not dead," he said fiercely, teeth gritted. "You hear me? You’re not. You don’t get to leave me like this."

Silence.

Outside the window, the city kept moving. Inside the room, time had stopped.

Day after day, night after night, Gojo stayed. He slept half on the bed sometimes, sprawling over the chair like a thrown-away doll, refusing to leave even when Shoko threatened to sedate him.

He told you stories. About the students, about how Nanami actually cracked a joke once (he didn't, but Gojo knew you'd tease him if you ever woke up to hear the lie). He told you how Yuji cried the first time he came in and saw you, how Megumi stared at your hand for half an hour without saying a word.

Gojo hated this helplessness more than anything — the sheer, brutal truth that for all his limitless power, he couldn't lift you out of that bed, couldn't force your eyes open with sheer will, couldn't heal what your soul had sacrificed. He was used to winning, to bending the world around him, to standing above fate itself. But now he could only sit there, every day, whispering his dreams into your sleeping ear like prayers he wasn't sure would ever be answered. 

Some nights, when loneliness wrapped too tightly around his chest, he told you about the future he had started to imagine — a small house tucked somewhere quiet, far from the blood and curses and endless wars. 

"I’ve been thinking about quitting," he confessed, his thumb stroking slow, trembling patterns along the back of your hand. "The kids can handle it now... Yuuji, Megumi, Nobara. They don’t need me hovering anymore or you." His voice softened, almost bashful. "We could get a place out in the countryside. Grow tomatoes, or whatever old people do. Maybe have a kid or two. You'd hate the names I've picked out, by the way. Like... 'Soichiro,' or 'Tamaki.' Imagine calling for them at dinner." He laughed — a hoarse, broken thing — because he needed to believe you would wake up just to roll your eyes at him, to punch his arm and scoff that he was an idiot. Needed to believe that somewhere inside the quiet shell of your body, you were still there, smiling, waiting to come back to him.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead — a soft, lingering thing like a vow — and when he pulled back, he saw the imperceptible flutter of your lashes. For a moment, he froze, his heart slamming hard against his ribs, his mind reeling, terrified that it was just another cruel trick of exhaustion. But then your hand twitched weakly against his, and your voice — raspy, barely a breath — broke the silence.

"I like the name... Soichiro."

Gojo stared at you, wide-eyed, breathless, his whole world tilting sideways. For a split second, he genuinely wondered if he had finally lost his mind, conjured you with sheer desperation. But no — your warm eyes found his. Your lips curved into the ghost of a smile. You were there.

A laugh — broken, beautiful — tore out of him, and before he could stop himself, he was kissing you again: your forehead, your nose, the corner of your mouth, frantic, reverent, as if anchoring himself to the reality that you were here, awake, alive.

"Breath, Satoru," you croaked out, your voice barely above a whisper, your hand weakly trying to push his chest away. "I need to... breathe."

He laughed again, wet with tears he didn’t even realize were falling, and rested his forehead against yours, his hands cradling your cheeks like you were made of spun glass.

"Sorry, sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking with a happiness so raw it hurt. "Just... don't go back to sleep, okay? Not yet. I’ve got a whole list of terrible baby names to tell you.’ 

[tsukimefuku]

that's spooky af, honey :: jjk characters

They’re not the biggest fans of horror movies, but they might make an exception just for you - feat. Gojo, Toji, Nanami, Higuruma, Kusakabe, Shoko

cw: gender neutral reader, crack, comedy, i’m flexing here so some ooc, and a lot of fluff. roughly proofread. notes etc.: happy spooky season, guys 🎃 Entry for the spookinky event.

⛧ GOJO SATORU

(The Exorcist - 1973)

It was a very hot night. The type of night in which even mosquitoes could drop dead from the heat at any second. It felt like you were in an oven, so surely, it made no sense that your boyfriend, Satoru, kept you in the death grip of his hug like a koala hanging from a tree.

A pretty desperate koala latched with his abdomen to your back.

“Toru, please, I can’t breathe,” you insisted, trying to move his hands from your waist just to get a few inches back of freedom. It backfired, and he tightened all around you. 

“You don’t, babe,” he cooed, nuzzling around the sweaty nape of your neck, “you just need to be here.” 

He sounded cuddly, definitely a little clingy, but you thought it was cute how after you both turned off the classic rendition of The Exorcist, Satoru gripped you and didn’t let go since.

You huffed, accepting defeat. 

“Okay, but I need to at least drink some water and I also need to go to the bathroom,” you told him, shuffling around over the bed sheets.

Satoru didn’t flinch, still gripping on you like you were the last flatscreen on sale during a Black Friday. 

“Satoru.”

Your voice contained a warning (a warning coming mostly from your bladder). 

“Go in the morning! It’s so cozy,” he whined, letting go from you just enough for you to slightly turn back and look at his messy white hair covering his playful blue eyes, which decorated a remarkably adorable pout.

It would be cuter if you weren't on the verge of peeing yourself on the bed. 

“It’s not! Satoru, it’s searing hot, we’re both drenched and I need to pee!” 

Satoru pressed a quick kiss to your lips and rested his mouth over your hair. 

“No, you don’t.” 

“Sir, you’re not the boss of my pee.”

He chuckled softly and made it abundantly clear he wouldn’t let you go willingly.

“Oh, I’m not getting a urinary tract infection because you’re too scared to be in the room alone after a cheesy horror movie!” you protested while chuckling back, starting to wrestle around with him, failing miserably to free yourself from the giant’s grip, “I have to go to the bathroom now!” 

“Then I’ll go with you!” he conceded, finally freeing your waist and jumping himself up off the bed with a grin.

You sighed with a half smile on your face at his antics. 

“Dear Lord Almighty.”

—

⛧ FUSHIGURO TOJI

(Hereditary - 2018)

You had barely managed to get around the second isle in the grocery store before your phone started blowing up with calls. You had left Toji watching a horror movie while Megumi was napping in his own room as you took a quick run to the shop. You had forgotten to buy a few things for dinner earlier that day. 

Your phone had already vibrated a few times, the tell-tale sign you got fired up with quite a few text messages.

“Yes, Toji?” you said while answering the phone, “I left you watching a movie and just came down quick to get some groceries, what’s up?” 

“The movie is finished,” Toji answered in his characteristically nonchalant way, but offered no further explanation. 

“I still have some things to grab around here. How’s Megumi?” 

“He’s fine, I’m in his room. He’s still sleeping.” 

“Oh, good.” 

You had committed to memory the way Toji would every night sit on little Megumi’s end of the bed, and silently look at him before smiling and leaving his room. He never connected the dots of how you would always, somehow, need something from the kitchen during that same time, just to walk by the door and see them both.

However, this was too early for his nightly ritual. Megumi was sure to wake up from his nap soon.

Then, a thought crossed your mind. 

“Toji.” 

“What?” 

“Are you scared? After the movie? That’s why you’ve been texting and calling me like crazy?”

He scoffed on the other side of the line. 

“Of course not, I’m not a little kid.” 

You kept silent for a few moments, and he didn’t say anything else, still lingering on a bated breath. 

“Well, if that’s the case, then I think I’ll just run to the convenience store quickly and get us some-” 

“No! Just come home already,” he complained, and you couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Only if you ask nicely.” 

Toji groaned.

”Please, babe, come home and let’s eat dinner.” 

“Fine, I’ll be back in ten.” 

—

⛧ NANAMI KENTO

(It - 2017)

A ritual you and Nanami had after you broke your leg — and got prescribed lots of bed rest for that — was watching a different movie every night before sleeping. 

You’d usually doze off shortly after while your husband would keep reading his books by himself, in his own personal nightly routine. He’d make good use of that extra time he was always awake to get a water jug from the kitchen and leave it by your side, just in case you felt thirsty during the night (which, to be fair, you always did).

This time, however, after watching the “It” remake of 2017, you weren't feeling quite sleepy, so you decided to doom scroll on your phone while your husband read. 

You did notice a funny thing, though.

An hour had passed, and he hadn’t moved from the bed.

“Kento,” you called, blocking your phone’s screen and looking at him.

He put his hand over your thigh softly, not to disturb the cast under the knee that was already propped up comfortably by a pillow, and kept reading, holding his book with his other hand.

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“Aren’t you going to get the jug of water for the night?” 

“Soon,” Nanami replied, his eyes making the quickest glance down the dark corridor, so quick you barely noticed, “soon.” 

“Ken, honey, I’m getting thirsty,” you cooed, resting your hand over his.

He looked over to you and put his book with open pages down on the nightstand.

“I apologize, darling,” he replied, leaning over and planting a soft kiss on your lips. “Would you mind if I just finished this chapter?”

His voice sounded so velvety and sweet, honestly, how could you say no?

“No problem,” you replied, and he smiled before sitting back and pulling his book into his hands again. However, once more, his eyes glanced down the dark corridor.

“Kento, I have a quick question, though. I promise not to keep interrupting your reading.” 

“You can interrupt me whenever you want. What is it?” 

“Why do you keep staring down the corridor?”

Nanami was clearly taken aback, even if he attempted to feign nonchalance.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, love.” 

“Oh, come on, you do…” you began, right before the realization dawned on you.

“Kento, did you get spooked from the movie?”

Nanami turned his head to look at you, but his expression was not exactly surprised. He seemed more like a kid who had been caught stealing cookies from the jar before dinner time.

“Excuse me?” 

“Light of my life, you never take this long to get the jug, and also, you are staring at that dark corridor. I’m sure of it.” 

“I will get it, right after I finish the chapter,” he replied with little to no conviction in his voice, “and you’re always fast asleep when I do. How do you know how long I usually take?”

You stared at him, in all his 6 feet tall glory, and bit down a chuckle. 

“I didn’t know you were afraid of clowns,” you said, trying not to grin. 

“Darling, I’m not afraid of clowns,” Kento replied sounding slightly offended while he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, let me go get your water.”

Nanami put his book down, walked towards the room’s door, but didn’t fail to take a second before turning the corridor’s light on prior to walking towards the kitchen. You heard the kitchen’s light being turned on too.

Shortly after, he was back. Nanami put the water jug accompanied by a cup on your nightstand, and laid down.

“Thanks, Ken. Good night, I love you.”

“Good night. I love you too, darling.”

There was still something off, though.

“Ken, why are we sleeping with the night lamp on?”

He pretended to not hear you.

—

⛧ HIGURUMA HIROMI

(The Shining - 1980)

You had noticed it happening for the past hour of the movie you were both watching, The Shining. Hiromi wasn’t someone very vocal about his discomforts, but his body would occasionally betray him. 

With each passing twenty minutes or so, you noticed your fiancée had inched himself closer and closer to you, with the feeble excuse that he wanted to be closer to the popcorn. His hand was diving in the pot, picking a single popcorn at a time, as the rain tapped violently against your windows.

His eyes were glued to the screen, and for a second, you couldn’t quite remember the last time he had blinked ever since the movie started. 

“Hiro,” you whispered at him, “are you enjoying the movie?”

Hiromi simply nodded, not looking away from the screen. 

“Are these actual ghosts or is Jack just going insane?” he asked just below his breath, putting another single unit of popcorn in his mouth. 

“I mean, going from the book, the Overlook Hotel is haunted,” you whispered, “but Kubrick wanted to dive more into that psychological aspect of the horror. Stephen King really hated this movie,” you concluded, shoving a handful of popcorn in yours. 

“Did he? Why?” 

“Mostly because the hotel should be the corrupting factor, Jack wasn’t supposed to be cuckoo crazy from the start like Kubrick made him to be,” you replied with your mouth full.

Hiromi huffed, blinking for the first time in God knows how many minutes. 

“I guess no one is, truly.”

You smiled and laid your head on his shoulder, cozying up against Hiromi’s body warmth. 

“Oh, this one’s good,” you stated, heightening his already sharp attention to the events unfolding in front of him.

This was the scene where Hallorann, the cook, went back to the hotel after Danny managed to ask him for help. By this point, Jack was already roaming through the Overlook with his signature axe and well, what would happen was pretty obvious, but still.

Hallorann came walking down the corridor, his steps against the linoleum floor being the only sound filling the space. The tension grew, Danny’s face in the dark showed up, and you propped yourself for the big jump scare.

However, at the very moment Jack jumped into the frame bearing his axe…

The lights in the entire house went out.

You didn’t get a second to process it, though. Before you knew it, the popcorn bowl flew over, meeting its fateful end on the ground, popcorn spread all over you both and the floor, the blanket you and Hiromi were both under became a crumpled messy ball while falling over. He yanked you over with his arms around you so violently your lungs struggled for a second. To call that a hug would be sugar coating it (a lot).

Hiromi was holding onto you for dear life.

The power took a few seconds to come back, and when it did, you realized he had his eyes sewn shut, opening them softly as light hit his eye lids. 

It took you a few labored breaths to ask, 

“Do you want to watch something els-“ 

“Yes.”

—

⛧ KUSAKABE ATSUYA

(Cabin in the woods - 2011) 

“Get up!” was the only thing you heard before falling off the side of the bed in utter disorientation. Seconds before, you had been sleeping peacefully, and your boyfriend, Kusakabe, should’ve been by your side.

However, as you regained your senses, you saw him standing with his back against the wall beside the bedroom door, in the dark, holding onto his katana. 

“Atsuya, what happened?” you inquired, still half dazed, but adrenaline definitely kicking in from the way he was carrying himself. Alert signs went up in your mind. 

“There’s something in the house,” he whispered urgently, signaling for you to pick up your weapon too.

Your sorcerer instincts came fully awake and you pulled your dagger from the bedside table, walking towards him in a crouch. 

“What grade do you think it is?” you asked, looking up at him. 

Apart from him being like this, though, you didn’t sense anything. Not yet.

Before answering you, he darted himself out of the bedroom — something considerably uncharacteristic for him — and you followed him, alert and confused. 

“The assistants, and the lab, they-“ you heard Kusakabe mumbling to himself as he was walking around the house, “always giving me more work. Them and the teens, no one can do their work right, shit.” 

… What now? 

“Atsu, what are you talking about? Where’s the curse?” you insisted, “what grade is it? What is it like? Should I call Gojo?” 

You were now definitely starting to feel the pain in the back of your neck and the base of your back from falling off the bed. 

“No, we can handle it ourselves, we always have to, no one knows how to do their job and-“ the senseless mumbling ensued, “and the merman…”

Oh, no. You finally realized what was going on.

Irritation instantly hit you, and you walked towards Kusakabe, yanking his katana from his hands, looking very seriously at the sorcerer before chastising him. 

“You gotta be kidding me! You woke me up in the middle of the night and scared me half to death because of a nightmare?!”

He blinked multiple times, shaking his head, and looked back at you. 

“You’re not listening, the merman-“ 

”There is no merman, love of mine,” you replied, sighing and pinching the bridge of your nose, “this was one of the monsters in the movie we watched before going to sleep. The one where there is a lab, and monsters, and young uni students going on a trip, being idiots and getting killed… Don’t you remember?” 

After a few seconds, the realization finally dawned on him, and he put his hand on his forehead. 

“There is no merman?” 

“There is no merman, Atsuya. I promise.”

You had to hold down a laugh before leading a very confused Kusakabe back into the bedroom, tucking him for a — hopefully — calm night of sleep.

—

⛧ IEIRI SHOKO

(The Autopsy of Jane Doe - 2016)

Your girlfriend had the pokerest of poker faces. So you didn’t expect her to be jumping around from fright or anything of the sort.

However, the cigarette she let burn out completely untouched, still hanging from her mouth, betrayed just how scared shitless she was. The entire thing had become one continuous trail of ashes that ended on her lips, and funnily enough, it hadn’t fallen.

Yet.

Discreetly, you picked up the ashtray from the coffee table and hovered it under the cigarette, just in time for the tube of ashes to fall perfectly down in it.

Still, no movements from your girlfriend. 

You waved your hand in front of her face, but she just stood there, sitting down in the exact same position she had been ever since the movie started, like a marble statue.

“Shoko, sweetheart, are you okay?” 

Shoko only hummed what could be interpreted as a “yes” in return, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle. Trying to ease her out of the fear, you tried joking a little. 

“So, this cursed corpse is kind of different from the ones Principal Yaga makes, hm? His are cuter, for sure.”

Another soulless mm-hmm came out, and you wondered if you had maybe taken this horror night a little too far. She did autopsies for a living, after all. Perhaps this was too close to home. 

“Honey? Love?” 

No response. 

“Do I have to call Gojo to pull you out of this?”

This finally elicited a you can’t be serious right now response from her, and it eased your worries, even if just a little.

Picking up the remote, you paused the movie, and put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Shoko, would you like to watch something else?”

She sighed, seemingly relieved, and turned her face to yours. 

“I want to watch my actual autopsies videos. Like, ones without curses in them.” 

You chuckled softly before planting a tender kiss on her lips. 

“You’re weird. Of course, love you.”

written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.

[wbbfannnnnn13]

Almost, Always - Chapter 4

A/N: Apparently I have more free time than I thought to be able to update this quickly... I know it won't last but I'll keep you guys fed while I can lol... plus I feel bad for leaving you on a cliff hanger like that, but tbh my brain just wants to end every chapter like that so sorry in advance. Hope you like it! Also, I love the reaction/responses so keep them coming anons <3

Wc: 2k+

Chapter 4: Is This How It Ends?

Azzi hadn’t heard from Paige in two weeks.

Not a call. Not a text. Not even a half-hearted Instagram like, the kind that Paige used to send when she didn’t want to say something but still wanted Azzi to know she was thinking about her.

Nothing.

And it didn’t make sense.

Paige wasn’t the type to disappear. No matter how much space they needed, no matter how messy things got between them, Paige always found a way to push back into Azzi’s life. A dumb meme, an accidental FaceTime, a simple “you good?” text that wasn’t really a question but an opening.

But this time? Silence.

Azzi wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or hurt. Maybe both.

She told herself that this is what she wanted. That she had meant it when she told Paige she wasn’t waiting anymore. But if that was true, why did she keep checking her phone? Why did she still hesitate every time she got a notification, hoping—expecting—to see Paige’s name?

Why did it still feel like something inside of her was missing?

She forced herself to focus on basketball. Extra reps, extra workouts, staying late in the gym when she didn’t need to. The game had always been her escape. The one thing she could control.

But lately, even that wasn’t enough.

Because no matter how hard she tried, Paige was still there. In the quiet moments. In the pauses between drills. In the spaces where she used to be.

And worst of all, Paige was in her dreams.

That night, the night before a home game, Azzi dreams.

But it doesn’t feel like a dream. It feels like a memory.

Because it is a memory.

Summer 2020.

The world had been shut down, but Paige had spent part of that time with Azzi’s family in Virginia before heading off to UConn.

They had been inseparable for weeks—training together, playing games, making the most of a summer that should have been so much more. They’d started routines that felt sacred. Morning runs, driveway shootarounds, late-night card games. Paige had become part of the Fudd household in a way Azzi hadn’t anticipated—fitting in with effortless charm, making her mom laugh, helping her dad cook dinner, staying up late with her little brother to play video games.

Late one night, they were sitting in Azzi’s backyard, stretched out on the grass, looking up at the sky. The world had been so quiet back then. No games, no expectations. Just them.

Azzi remembers the way Paige had turned her head, watching her instead of the stars.

"What?" Azzi had asked, smirking.

"Nothing," Paige had said, shaking her head. But she hadn’t looked away.

Azzi had felt something shift. Or maybe, it had already been shifting for months, and she was just finally noticing. She could trace it back to the way Paige started lingering a little longer after workouts, to the way their laughter would stretch past midnight conversations, to how a simple brush of shoulders would leave Azzi breathless for reasons she didn’t want to name. It wasn’t a single moment, but a thousand little ones.

"You ever think about how different everything is gonna be?" Paige had asked, voice quieter than usual.

Azzi had swallowed hard, because yeah. She had thought about it a lot.

She hadn’t realized how much she had been dreading Paige leaving—how much she had started to need her here.

"I guess," Azzi had answered, playing it safe. "But we’ll still be us."

And then Paige had laughed—soft, almost disbelieving.

"Yeah?" Paige had murmured, like she wasn’t sure if Azzi actually believed that.

There was something tentative in her voice, almost like she was asking a different question altogether. The air shifted, thick with the unsaid. Paige’s eyes lingered, searching Azzi’s face for something—permission, reassurance, courage. And then, slowly, she leaned in.

But it wasn’t immediate. There was a pause, one of those long, fragile silences that feels louder than anything else. Paige’s face was close enough that Azzi could see every freckle on her nose and count the tiny flecks of gold in her blue eyes under the porch light. The air between them felt charged, like static before a storm, like something was about to break open. Azzi’s breath hitched, her chest tightening with anticipation, with a thousand what-ifs she didn’t dare speak aloud.

Paige didn’t say anything else—she just looked at her, really looked at her, in a way that made Azzi’s heart stutter in her chest. It wasn’t dramatic or sweeping. It was quiet and intentional, like Paige was memorizing her face, committing her to memory just in case this moment never happened again.

Azzi’s fingers curled into the grass beside her, trying to ground herself as the heat between them grew heavier. And then, finally, Paige closed that last inch of space between them. Her lips brushed Azzi’s—barely at first, a soft question wrapped in hesitation.

It was gentle and slow, tentative in the way first kisses always are, but something about it felt like a beginning and a promise all at once.

Azzi still remembers the feeling of Paige’s lips brushing against hers, hesitant at first, testing, waiting.

Azzi had kissed her back before she could think too much about it.

The moment had been soft, careful, like neither of them wanted to break it.

Paige had kissed her like she was testing the weight of it, like she needed to know if this was real. And then, slowly, she deepened the kiss—pressing forward with a quiet kind of certainty, like something inside her had finally clicked into place. It was tender but sure, the kind of kiss that didn’t leave room for doubt.

Azzi had known, right then, that there was no going back.

The kiss hadn’t just been a surprise. It had been a release. A culmination of all the quiet moments, all the lingering glances, all the almosts that had been building between them for months. Because the truth was, Azzi had wanted to kiss Paige for a while now. She just hadn’t let herself admit it. She’d buried it under friendship and familiarity, under the fear of ruining something she didn’t want to lose. But in that moment, with Paige's lips on hers, Azzi realized she had been waiting, hoping, for this far longer than she’d ever said out loud.

They had talked about it afterward—awkward and honest and a little scared. But there had been this undercurrent of certainty between them, like something inevitable had finally clicked into place. Azzi hadn’t known what it would become, but she had known one thing for sure: she didn’t want to lose Paige.

Azzi wakes up with her heart racing, breath caught in her throat. Her body felt like it had jolted out of something far too real, her skin clammy under the sheets, the remnants of the dream still clinging to her like fog. The echo of Paige’s kiss still burned against her lips. Her chest heaved with the weight of remembering, her thoughts swimming in the overlap between what had been and what no longer was. She sat up slowly, pressing her palms to her eyes as if she could scrub the images away, but they lingered. Every second of that memory felt more alive than her present reality, and for a moment, she wondered which one hurt more.

She clenches her jaw, forcing herself out of bed, forcing herself to shake it off.

It was just a memory.

It didn’t mean anything anymore.

Except it did.

Because if it didn’t, it wouldn’t hurt this much to remember it.

The stadium is buzzing, and the kind of energy that usually fuels Azzi makes her sharper and more locked in. The crowd is loud, but she barely hears it. The game is all that matters—the rhythm, the pace, the constant motion. She thrives in it, letting it consume her, drowning out the noise in her head.

Tonight is no different… at first.

She moves on instinct, finds her spots, and drains her shots with mechanical precision. A three from the wing. Another from the corner. Quick pull-ups in transition. She isn’t thinking, just reacting, doing what she always does.

Her teammates are dialed in, the ball movement crisp, the communication strong. On the surface, it feels like any other game. But beneath that, Azzi knows she’s pushing herself harder than usual—trying to bury something under the repetition, under the rhythm.

And then, mid-third quarter, she glances toward the sideline between plays, just for a second, just to scan the familiar faces in the crowd.

And her stomach drops.

Paige.

Sitting courtside, in a spot so close that Azzi can see the way her fingers are laced together, elbows resting on her knees. Watching her.

It nearly knocks the wind out of her.

Paige looks good. She was wearing a Mystics jersey with Azzi’s number on it, the bold print catching the light in a way that made Azzi's chest tighten. Jeans hugged her legs, casual and effortless, but it was the way her hair was down that nearly undid her. Paige rarely wore it like that anymore, but Azzi loved it. She had always loved it. Something about the softness of it, how it framed her face, made her look so painfully beautiful that Azzi’s heart stuttered. The sight of her like this, so familiar and impossibly distant, made everything inside Azzi ache.

She tells herself to look away, to stay focused, but it’s like seeing a ghost—she can’t unsee it.

She nearly fumbles a pass that should have been easy. She recovers, but it’s sloppy, a half-second delay that she never makes. It doesn’t go unnoticed. One of her teammates gives her a look, and Azzi nods quickly, shaking it off, trying to pretend she isn’t suddenly spiraling.

She locks in, forces herself to not look again.

But now she knows Paige is there, and suddenly everything feels heavier. Every shot, every cut, every move.

By the time the game ends, Azzi feels like she’s been holding her breath for hours. Her limbs are heavy, not just with exhaustion but with everything she’s been trying to suppress since she spotted Paige in the crowd. Every second on the court had felt like a test of restraint, every movement an effort to pretend like she hadn’t seen the one person who could undo her with a single glance. Her pulse still thrums beneath her skin, the adrenaline fading too slowly, leaving her nerves raw and her emotions sharper than ever. She tries to convince herself that it was just another game, but her heart is pounding in a way that has nothing to do with the scoreboard and everything to do with the girl in the stands.

She walks off the court slowly, the adrenaline wearing off fast. Her body aches, but her chest aches more. She doesn’t head straight to the locker room like she normally would. Instead, she lingers near the bench, eyes scanning the crowd again—because part of her still doesn’t believe she saw Paige.

But there she is. Still there. Still watching.

And this time, their eyes meet.

Azzi wants nothing more than to run up to her, to close the space between them, to forget every misstep and every painful silence.

As they stare at one another, Azzi catches the look in Paige’s eyes. It’s a softness that’s only ever been meant for her. That quiet, tender kind of gaze that had once made Azzi feel like she was the only person in the world who mattered. It hits her like a wave, enough to make her knees wobble, to almost make her take that first step forward.

But she doesn’t. She can't. Because it's not that simple. Not anymore. Because that look doesn’t erase the silence of the last two weeks. That look doesn’t give her what she needs. She needs Paige to move past the fear of their relationship being out in the open. 

So instead, Azzi swallows the lump in her throat, offers a single head nod—distant, controlled—and turns in the opposite direction, walking straight to the locker room without looking back. Her legs feel heavier with every step, like the weight of everything unsaid is trying to pull her backward. She can’t help but feel the pang of guilt that bubbles up, sharp and immediate, knowing that the gesture would hurt Paige. It already had. But a part of her feels justified in it, anchored by the ache of silence that stretched too long. She has the right to be mad, furious even, and so her anger rises, settling over the guilt like armor. Still, even as she pushes forward, even as she rounds the corner out of sight, a small voice whispers that maybe, just maybe, walking away won’t make the pain any less real.

And in that moment, Azzi thinks that it might finally be over, but she’s not sure if that thought feels like relief or devastation.

[daiourage]

That One Arc in Prime Where Optimus Lost His Memory But This AU Makes No Sense Because It's a Mix Between IDW and One

Happy New Years! My drawing app keeps crashing so I decided to draw my ideas on paper, and this took quite a while;;;

As always, press/click for both the full picture and for better quality!!!

["Brief" explanation of this comic:

1. In a previous post I mentioned wanting One to continue into something similar to the IDW continuum because I,,, love IDW, just in general, but the IDW MegOp crumbs are also tasty--//shot 1-2. Also the way the characters refer to each other is intentional please I think I know what I'm doing?? It's been a while since I consumed TF content (until recently) though. This entire comic is a what-if scenario that came to me when I was showering lol-- 2. MegOp is established 👍 (insert "old man yaoi joke" here (I agree with y'all btw, not mocking)) 3. In the last panel, I was debating whether or not to put Elita with Bee in helping Megs call Optimus "Pax", but decided to put Starscream because I feel like it makes more sense non-One wise. 3-2. I wanted to include more dialogue with other characters, but it ended up looking like it was shoehorned in because the concept was very MegOp centered I'm so sorry (me to every other character) Just know I love every one of y'all-- 4. I have crudely simplified the characters by complete accident. My bad;;;; in my defense, every character changes a lot when I'm not looking (I had so much trouble trying to figure out which Bee design to use),,, 5. It is very fast paced on accident as well;;; might sound like a badly translated manga, too;;; I don't know how it turned out but maybe my bilingual self is in that one phase where I'm good at neither language;;;]

It might look a little messy because it's been so long since I've touched colored pencils I'm,,, gonna try to get used to it since my app doesn't seem to be getting fixed anytime soon;;; (I don't know if it's an iPad problem or an app problem;;; Sketchbook get your shit together please,,,)

Also, I used a couple of sparkly colored pencils but I'm not sure it translated well in the scan so I'm a little disappointed but eh,,,

Also also, have this thing I drew of Megs being lovestruck in the last page when Optimus comes back lmao--

My bad for the long post; it's currently 4 AM because I stayed up watching music shows over here;;I hope we all have a wonderful year. I have a feeling my TF phase is gonna last a couple years longer than it usually does jlsdlakjsdlkfja

Let's all have a good time, yeah~?

[huxhsz]

— weightless paradise

transmigrated non-mc!reader x caleb

prev ch: 28 - life┆series masterlist ┆next ch: 30 - messages

This isn’t how the game was supposed to go. You're not supposed to be here. You're an anomaly. But if you’re already here, then… can’t you just enjoy it for now? Just for a little while? Before the main story begins? Before everything inevitably falls into place? ...Right?

note/s: i just realized i don't leave notes here… whoops. but yes, i do read your comments n reblogs (i'm also very much scared to reply to any of them, but i'm thankful for all your support! it always makes me happy to see all of your comments <3 thank you to all my readers ilysm!!)

first of all, we're almost at chapter 30, which was the original amount of chapters this fanfic was supposed to have. but look at us now! it’s been such a wild, emotional ride, and i’m so grateful to every single one of you who’s been with me along the way. seriously, you all have been such a huge part of this journey, and i can’t believe how far we’ve come. i can’t even put into words how much your support, comments, and enthusiasm have meant to me. it keeps me going every single time i sit down to write, knowing you’re all out there enjoying this story with me.

the fact that we’re getting close to chapter 30—my original goal—feels bittersweet. it’s like i’m reaching a big milestone, but at the same time, i’ve realized this world, these characters, and this plot have so much more to offer than i ever expected. i’m not ready to say goodbye just yet.

but i also want to take a moment to say thank you for sticking with me. the fact that you’ve all embraced these characters—especially the mess that is our trio—makes my heart feel so full. i know i throw a lot at you all with the emotional twists, the tension, the slow-burn, and even when things get a little ooc (seriously, thank you for being so patient with me!), and i love reading how invested everyone has become. your reactions have been everything. i’m so glad you guys are still enjoying this story—i am too, even if sometimes posting every day gets a bit stressful (but in a good way, you know? like a good kind of chaos).

we’ve got a long way to go before the main story kicks off, and that’s exciting and terrifying at the same time, haha. there are so many layers and so many places i want to take these characters. and even though the pace might feel like it’s picking up, there’s so much more to explore, so many more revelations and emotional beats to hit. i can’t wait to take you all on this journey, and i hope you’ll stick around until the very end!

thank you so, so much for your love and patience. it’s honestly the best feeling to know that there are people out there who love these characters and this world as much as i do. you all inspire me to keep going. <3

cross-posted on ao3! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

CH. 029 — UNCHARTED WATERS

The room feels colder now, a chill that isn’t from the air outside but from the uncertainty crawling down your spine.

You never meant for this to happen. You only wanted to write—just to get it out of your head, to sort through the tangled memories of Love and Deepspace and make sense of it all. But somewhere along the way, the lines blurred. The past you remember from the game, the present you’re living now, the future that looms ahead like an unanswered question—it’s all starting to bleed together, tangled and messy, refusing to stay in their separate boxes.

Chronosight has always been a mystery to you—more of a curse than a gift. You’ve seen glimpses of the future before, scattered images that you were powerless to stop. And yet, as your thoughts drift further into the past, as you think of the game, of Caleb, of all the moments that led you here...

You feel it.

That subtle pull in your chest, the hum of power just beneath your skin. A thread waiting to be tugged.

This time, you don’t turn away from it.

Maybe you’ve been avoiding it for too long. Maybe you’ve been afraid—not just of what you’ll see, but of what it means.

But now, as the weight of your silence presses in, you wonder if maybe, just maybe, it’s time to stop running.

So you close your eyes.

And for the first time, you reach for the past.

It’s like stepping into a memory, but it’s not your own. It’s distant, old and unfamiliar, but it’s clear.

You see it, vividly, like you’re standing there. The lab is dim, lit only by the pale light of the long hallways and the distant glow of monitors. It’s summer, hot and still. The hum of the air conditioning is the only sound, a gentle reminder of how long you've been here. Caleb is standing beside you, the both of you wearing the drab lab clothes that marked your childhood.

You watch yourself—yourself. You’re holding something in your hand, a piece of fabric or paper, but it doesn’t matter. You can feel the nervousness, the anticipation bubbling up inside you. Caleb's eyes are wide, his expression a mix of wonder and restraint, the way he always held himself back even when he was desperate to break free.

He’s looking at the door—the one that leads to the outside world. You’re standing just behind him, your face half-hidden in the shadow of the corridor. His hand reaches for the handle, but you can already see the hesitation in his movements. The weight of the rules, the years of confinement, pressing down on him.

You’ve never seen the outside world, have you? you think to yourself, watching him, knowing the truth even as you see him there.

You’re here, at this moment, because you know Caleb. You remember him before all this—before the lab. You know the boy who couldn’t wait to escape, who could barely sit still even as the world outside was nothing but a dream.

And you... you’ve read about this in the game. You’ve seen it, the way the characters interact, the choices they make. But it’s different now. This is real. This is you and Caleb, standing on the precipice of something new.

You’ve never stepped outside yourself, not in this world. Your memories, your knowledge of the outside world—of Earth—are fragments, flashes of a life you lived before all of this. A life that doesn’t belong here. You weren’t supposed to remember any of it. And yet, the details of the outside world are seared into your mind, from the moments you lived before this world, from the things you learned from the game.

You can’t explain it. Maybe it’s the power of Chronosight, showing you things you shouldn’t know. But somehow, you know things about the outside world that Caleb never could.

"Ready?" you hear yourself ask in the past, your voice shaky, uncertain but full of excitement.

Caleb hesitates for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Yeah,” he says, his voice tight, “but we can’t stay out too long. We’ll get caught.”

“You won’t get caught,” you say, your words brimming with something like defiance. You don’t fully believe them yourself, but you want to believe it. You want to believe that for once, you can be free.

The door opens slowly, creaking like it hasn’t been used in years. Caleb looks back at you, his eyes wide and glowing with excitement.

You step forward, barely breathing, waiting for the rush of cool air that comes with stepping into the unknown.

But then, it’s all shattered.

The sound of footsteps echo down the hallway. The door swings back, and you feel the weight of the world come crashing down. The guards.

Caleb’s hand freezes on the door handle. You can almost hear his heart pounding in his chest. His shoulders slump, his dreams of freedom evaporating in an instant. He looks back at you, frustration, helplessness written all over his face.

"Let’s go," you whisper, a tug of disappointment in your chest. There’s no time. No escape.

You both step back into the shadows. Caleb’s face is tight, his jaw clenched in a way you’ve seen before. The door shuts with a soft thud behind you.

But you remember that moment. You remember his eyes, his first taste of freedom. You remember how, for the briefest moment, he felt like he was outside, like he could breathe again.

Eden wasn’t with you that day, you realize. She was always kept apart from you two, carefully kept away from your plans and your escapes. She would have been the one to giggle and prod, urging you on.

But the reality is, she wasn’t there. Not because she couldn’t join you, but because she was the youngest, the one who was still learning about the world and still too innocent to fully understand the weight of what you were doing. She would have pushed you both to escape regardless of the consequences, but she wasn’t there that day.

She was probably off somewhere else, being kept busy and away from you and Caleb's rebellion. You imagine her dragging a guard around, asking too many questions, looking for trouble in her own way.

But that didn’t matter, because at that moment, it was just you and Caleb. Just two kids dreaming of the world beyond the lab’s cold walls.

And now, as you stand here, watching the scene unfold before you, you feel something strange. A sense of nostalgia, perhaps. A longing for something you’ve never truly had.

It’s strange, seeing your world through the lens of Chronosight. You’ve lived through this moment before, seen it from a distance, but this is different. This time, you’re an outsider—watching them, watching Caleb, knowing how it all turned out.

You wish you could have changed something. Done something differently.

But there’s no going back.

You blink, the vision fading away as Chronosight flickers and weakens. The weight of the room settles back in around you. The past is gone, and you’re left with nothing but the present, the steady ticking of the clock.

And the question still lingers in your mind—What does Chronosight really do?

Is it just glimpses of the past, the future, and the present? Or is there something more?

You stare at your hands, feeling the weight of time in your grasp. You have so many questions, and yet no answers.

And somewhere in the distance, you wonder if you’ll ever truly find your way.

The weight of the room settles back around you, but you can’t quite shake it—what you just saw, what you just felt.

And for once, it doesn’t feel like you’re dreaming. It doesn’t feel like a memory from a game. It feels real.

Because it was.

And that’s when it hits you.

You’ve been so stupid.

This world—it isn’t some scripted backdrop. These people—Caleb, Eden—they’re not just characters on a prewritten path. They breathe, they hurt, they remember. They choose.

You press your palms to your face, trying to suppress the wave of frustration swelling in your chest.

God. You’ve been walking around this entire time like this was just some elaborate simulation. Like the world would pause when you looked away. Like you were separate from it. Like you didn’t matter.

But you do. You’ve always mattered.

Your presence here has been shifting things, hasn’t it? A little at a time. Subtle, quiet changes that snowball the longer you stay. Every conversation you weren’t supposed to have. Every moment you stole. Every time Caleb looked at you like that—like you were the center of his world.

You thought it was just part of the game.

But it’s not. He’s not. None of this is.

You groan into your hands. “I’m such an idiot.”

Because for all your supposed knowledge of Love and Deepspace, for all the lore you memorized and hours you poured into obsessing over it—you still treated the world like it was flat. Like the only cities that existed were Linkon and Skyhaven. Like the story couldn’t possibly stretch beyond the parts that were shown on-screen.

Auris wasn’t even in the game, you remember thinking earlier. So what the hell is it doing here?

And now, looking back, that thought feels so laughably narrow.

“What, did I think the world only had two cities?” you mutter to yourself, pacing now. “Do I think video games describe every single place? Does the story need to spoon-feed me every corner of a country just for me to believe it exists?”

You’re frustrated with yourself. Embarrassed. But under all of it, there’s something else.

Fear.

Because if the world is real—if this timeline is diverging, shifting, rewriting itself with every step you take—then what does that mean for you? For them? For the ending you always assumed was set in stone?

You think of Caleb. And Eden.

You’ve been telling yourself their story would unfold like it always does. That no matter how close he is to you now, eventually he’ll look at her and remember what’s “meant” to be. That all of this—his protectiveness, his warmth, the way he softens when it’s just the two of you—would fade once the main plot starts. That you’re just a placeholder. A detour.

Because Eden is the heroine. Right?

But the way Caleb looks at you—it’s not the way he looks at Eden.

And it terrifies you.

Because what if the universe tries to “correct” itself? What if he realizes you're the wrong choice? What if none of this was supposed to happen?

…What if it was?

And you’ve just been too scared to accept it.

You grip the edge of the desk, knuckles white. You can’t deny it anymore. You’re here. You’ve always been here. You’ve changed the story just by existing. You’re not watching from the outside anymore. You’re in it.

Not an NPC. Not a temporary stand-in.

A main character.

...No, not that either.

You're real. And so are they.

But even now, even as your chest tightens with everything you’ve realized—you still can’t say it out loud.

You don’t want to admit what you're feeling. Not about him. Not about Caleb.

Because he’s your friend. Just your friend.

Because even if he’s the only one who truly remembers the lab like you do. Even if his laughter used to be your only comfort in that nightmare. Even if, when the silence stretches too long, it’s his voice you crave hearing.

Even if you already know that you’re falling. Slowly. Stubbornly. Stupidly.

You still believe, in some deep, bruised part of you, that the story will begin for real soon—and when it does, you’ll be left behind.

[darkst4lker]

taste. // thranduil

thranduil oropherion x fem!reader

plot: two weeks and a half ago, thranduil and (y/n) had a messy break up. now, he appears at your friend arwen's birthday party with his ex girlfriend by his side and you decide that if he wants to play that game, you would play it too.

tw: (mdni) modern!au, it's mainly lovers to enemies to lovers but there will be mentions of smut, angst, thranduil behaves like an asshole, misogyny, use of drugs and and alcohol, good ending (?, i changed a lot of things from the lore!!, everyone is like 20-27 here but legolas wasn't even born yet here. YES there's a moment where starts playing lover you should've come over by jeff buckley!!. low caps on purpose.

notes: english is NOT my first language. i'm sorry if there's any mistake. also this is the first time i publish something i write here!!

“(y/n)” tauriel spoke. you and her were helping arwen to decorate her house for her birthday party that same night, yet you were visibly sad for your break up with thranduil. “(y/n), are you okay?”

you weren't okay.

it was the middle of winter. arwen's living room was one of the most comfortables and warm places on earth, in fact all of her house was like that. it was one of the places where you felt more safe than anywhere in the world but today her house felt deadly cold to you.

maybe the problem wasn't arwen's home itself but the fact that your soul was freezing since the day thranduil's deadly words stabbed your heart like a poisoned knife.

“i don't love you anymore, (y/n).”

fucker. you had spent two years together.

in fact, you and thranduil never fought, never argued, never insulted each other while you were together. yet, the day he left you like that, completely out of the blue, you insulted him so much he probably thought that all his family line would be cursed forever.

he said horrible things too, it wasn't just you. but you may had gone too far when you threw an antique vase that belonged to his family for years through the window of his apartment.

in your defense, he was the last person you thought that would leave you.

of course arwen's house felt cold, the whole world felt cold actually. how could anything feel good in this earth when you weren't in thranduil's arms?

you took a deep breath.

it took you a moment to answer to tauriel's question because the vestiges of the last discussion you had with thranduil were fresh in your mind like if it had happened a second ago. you tried to dismiss the storm of memories flooding your mind and you looked at tauriel.

“yeah, im sorry i went blank for a minute.” you answered while hanging up some balloons in the wall. you tried to fake a smile but your tired eyes revealed your sorrows.

“that's it. im tired of seeing her like this, im going to kill him” aragorn said, leaving his spot next to arwen in the kitchen where they were preparing all the food for the party to get his coat, but arwen stopped him right away.

“stop, you're not helping her. we need to stay here by her side.” arwen came out of the kitchen, after aragorn. her calm voice sent chills down your spine.

aragorn crossed his arms and left his coat alone while he sat in a chair facing you.

you sat on the sofa and arwen sat besides you. the decorations were ready and now you didn't had anything else to distract you from the heartbreak im your chest.

“everything is going to be okay, sweetie. i'm sorry you'll have to see him tonight, bard insisted a lot for me to invite him.” arwen words comforted you and then she hugged you softly. aragorn looked annoyed while he leant against the wall and tauriel stood beside him. “sooner or later he will realize what he's missing.”

“better be sooner because i can't believe he hurted (y/n) like this when a month ago he was talking about fucking marrying her.” aragorn said clearly angry. “i know he's my friend and all but... i can't believe that he really did that.”

“well love can be like that sometimes, i guess.” you answered, trying to keep yourself together. “it comes and it goes.”

“yeah right, but is never just like that (y/n).” tauriel voice was calm but she did seem irritated. “i don't understand why on earth he would do that. it doesn't even makes sense.”

“it doesn't matter if it makes sense or not, guys.” you were clearly about to cry but you held it. “what is done is done and we can't go back in time, and neither can thranduil. i will survive this shit.” everyone tried to smile at you while you spoke but you didn't sounded as convinced as you wanted.

yet, you were true. you couldn't go back in time and in fact, the hours passed swiftly and now the night welcomed the birthday party everyone was waiting for.

you got showered and prepared directly in arwen's home. you had brought your outfit and now your body was inside a stunning and tight scarlet dress.

the black heels that you were in made your outfit more mysterious and in your neck there was a lovely silver necklace with a ruby pendant that arwen had let you borrow for the night.

with a little bit of perfume and red lipstick on, you left arwen's room and joined tauriel's side on the party. there wasn't much people yet, a couple university friends from years ago, the boy tauriel always spoke about: kili and his brother fili, gimli, aragorn of course and like five more people.

it wasn't full yet but arwen's home was quite big so the amount of people wasn't going to be a problem.

thranduil by the other hand, he surely was going to be one.

tauriel and you talked for a while, spending time together before she went to dance with her almost-boyfriend, kili.

you really liked kili for your friend, he seemed like a sweet guy. you really hoped they would end up being together and you wished in the deepest places of your heart that he didn't ended up breaking your friend heart.

like certain person did to you.

you drank a little from the bottle of wine aragorn gave you before rushing to dance with arwen and more people started to appear.

the fear of seeing thranduil that night was disappearing by every sip you gave to the wine and soon you even thought that maybe he wasn't even going to come.

a couple hours later, the house was full of people everywhere, it was 11pm, the party had just started hours ago and when you thought you were free from certain blonde, you saw probably the worst thing you could see with alcohol in your system.

thranduil entered the party with a beautiful blonde girl by his side. they both had their hands enterwined and the girl was giggling while they talked. you instantly felt a rush of rage invade your whole body to the point you believed that your brain was on the verge of exploding.

thranduil had a formal black shirt, leaving two buttons unbottoned and revealing his neck, a little sigh escaped from your lips at the heavenlt sight.

and there it was her.

she looked like a goddes pulled out from a fairytale, making your insecurities corrode your guts like a sickness. the tears threatened to fall off your eyes as you watched their entrance from the another side of the room, and the worst was that you recognized her from old pictures thranduil had in his house. that was his ex girlfriend, now actual (you supposed).

when you thought the horror was over, thranduil looked at you from the distance like if he had some kind of radar attached to him that warned him about everytime you looked at his direction.

his ocean blue eyes met yours. it felt like a boat crashing in the middle of a sea infested with mermaids.

his stare was as intoxicating and addictive as always were. the feelings accumulated in your throat like stones and you got scared for a moment before breaking eye contact with him. it lasted just a second, but it felt like a lifetime passed while your eyes met his.

then you quickly took a sip of your bottle of wine, trying to not give him the pleasure of seeing you rush to the bathroom to cry. for what it felt like hours, you had to see him dance with his new girl and you imagined that you were the one dancing with him, kissing him, touching him.

it was unbelieveable. he literally had replaced you.

how could he? why would he?

those questions pierced your heart like swords, like his words did days ago.

“it was just a pause, a distraction. i needed someone to heal what my past relatonship had broken in me and i already did. you served me well and i will always be grateful.”

you 'served him well'? really? what the fuck does he thinks he is? a king?

his words had melted in your ears like a rotten peach. the sweetness of his low voice mixed with a hint of gall flooding every sentence he said.

you understood now what he meant when he said he healed.

by the other hand, thranduil was breathing heavily.

his hands were on his new girlfriend's waist and sometimes he planted soft kisses on her face. yet, he couldn't fully enjoy anything of it. thranduil regretted all his actions, and much more, how he couldn't save your relationship.

he felt like an idiot. all of his thoughts were on you, every kiss he gave her, every look, every loving gesture, he desired it all went to you instead.

thranduil was deeply conflicted, though. even if he knew how wrong he were when you two broke up, he also was quite offended with the things you said.

it felt like a torture, probably the most horrible one on earth and the weight of his actions were killing him more slowly that he would ever wanted to.

thranduil didn't told you his real motives for leaving you, he thought it would only make it worse for both of you. but after leaving, all of his actions felt meaningless now that he didn't had you.

he was proud, and stubborn though. and watching how you left your seat in wich you were obviously staring at him to sit next to bard made his heart ache terribly.

in your mind, bard seemed like an obvious solution: he was hot, he was your friend and long before you started going out with thranduil he and you had spent a couple of nights together. bard obviously recieved your presence with open arms.

"(y/n), sweetheart." bard calm voice welcomed you as you approached the couch where he was drinking a beer. you noticed he had a blunt on the other hand. "you look beautiful as always."

"hi, bard. long time no-see" you took the seat next to him, everyone were dancing and the fact that he was also a very close friend of thranduil made the whole idea of making out with him so much better.

there was a brief moment of silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. the music was peaceful now, tempting every couple to slow dance.

"do yo want some?" he offered you the pot, and you took it while nodding.

as you smoke, bard looks at you with his classic lovely and reassuring smile, only this time he seemed quite drunk and clearly high.

you were a little drunk yourself too.

"i think i needed that, thank you." you give him back the blunt, and he leaves it in the ashtray. after, he looks at you with curiousity.

"are you-" he started to say but you interrupt him.

"yes i am in fact okay, thank you for asking though." the question had you completely exhausted. you rolled your eyes and stared at him right at his, starting to feel the mix of pot and the alcohol making you a little dizzy. "i came to see if we could make out for a while, i don't care if it's your fault he is here, i don't care about him, i don't care about anything. please, help me forget everything for a second like in the old times. please." your voice sounded a little desperate but the truth it was that you were.

the pain in your heart was begging and pleading to be released, to be cured even if it was for a brief moment. it felt like a bomb ticking on your chest that could explode at any moment and bard seemed to notice it.

a soft smile appeared on his face as he spoke. "you do seem to care, sweetie." the nickname made your heart ache a little, all his nicknames did. thranduil used to call you loving names all the time but the last time you two spoke he called you plainly by your name.

you asked yourself if he also was calling her those sweet names too.

your mouth opened to answer bard but the words didn't came out as the heart ache was ripping apart your body from the insides. bard saw your change of expression, knowing you needed help to get the words out of your chest. you did care after all.

bard puffed, trying not to sound melancholic and grabbed your hand softly. “im sorry, love. i know why you're asking me this and you can be sure i understand it, but thranduil made me promise i wouldn't touch you and i don't want to be in the middle of this break up.” as always, he was a pacifist. bard put his hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a hug. your sight started to get blurry from tears. “it will pass.”

his words echoed in your mind calming every part of you like a balm.

“it will pass.”

you spent what it felt like hours in bard's arms, cying silently. he held you, proving that even if he was thranduil's friend, he was still your friend also. it was a beautiful gesture, and made your soul heal for a while.

yet, an specific sentence of his words lingered in your mind leaving a poison trail on your thoughts: “thranduil made me promise i wouldn't touch you.” why on earth thranduil would care if you fucked bard? what was his problem?

after a moment, you broke the hug and faced bard a little bit ashamed by the way you tried to approach him at first and how you broke down instantly at him reading your feelings like a book. after wiping your tears, you looked at him. your face was swollen from crying but your expression tried to remain calm.

“im sorry i tried to-...” you started, but he cutted you off.

“it doesn't matter, love. it's okay.” bard said, giving you a reassuring stroke on your hand.

a sigh escaped from your lips and then you felt hungry, as you hadn't eat anything in the whole night.

“i will go to the kitchen to get something to eat, i'll be back in a sec.” your voice was trembling at every word but bard smiled at you and nodded, giving you a soft pat on the head before you stood up.

he surely knew how to treat a heartbroken person.

the way to the kitchen was silent, at least for you. the music was still loud but your head was even louder.

your hands placed themselves on the refrigerator door and the familiar soft cold wind welcomed you.

arwen never cared if you took food from her fridge, so you guessed that she probably wouldn't mind if you took an apple. then you closed it, not wanting to be tempted to eat something more and empty the whole refrigerator, leaving your friend having to buy more things tomorrow.

as you ate the apple you remembered how thranduil had cooked you an apple cake one time. it was probably one of the few times he ever baked anything sweet yet the cake resulted to be absolutely perfect.

then you cursed yourself, if you wanted to forget why did he keep coming back in every single little thing you did?

it was like every detail of him was craved deeply onto your heart with no intention of leaving you soon and it hurted more than you could stand.

“you must be (y/n)” a sweet voice called you from behind, and when you turned you saw her.

it was probably one of the most beautiful women you'd ever seen. blue eyes, blonde hair and soft lips.

you fully understood why thranduil would ever leave you for her. she was surely beautiful like if she were some kind of angel.

“yes, i am.” the words left your mouth with shyness. she had a smirk on her face, and looked at you while your teeth catched another bite from the apple.

“it's surely nice to meet you.” she answered, but her voice was almost cynical. there was a weird tone of passive aggressiveness behind it but you were probably too high to catch up.

then it became so obvious you couldn't avoid it.

“thran spoke a lot about you.” she continued, getting closer to you. “but i'm sure that he will soon stop.” then she walked some more steps to your direction and you placed the apple on the counter, swallowing hard.

you didn't realized that you probably had a sad look on your face until she spoke again.

“oh, don't put on that face.” she said, chuckling. there was a mocking subtone on her words. “thran will forget you quickly.” her words felt like a sting through your chest. “you surely don't seem as beautiful nor interesting as everyone said, and i will clearly erase you from his heart.”

you were about to answer, but then you saw thranduil appear behind her like if he were searching for her, and it was too much for you to handle. it was too humilliating to see him watching how his girlfriend completely destroyed you.

your steps were fast as you left the kitchen clearly at the verge of tears. the bathroom was the first door you saw as you almost ran out of the room.

the door felt heavy against your hands but it was nothing you couldn't handle. the first instinct you had was sit on the floor, knees against your chest and finally letting it all out.

you didn't cared if anyone heard you. the heartbreak was a weight in your chest that you needed to purge the fastest way possible, even if thranduil mocked you with his girlfriend outside, even of everyone only felt pity for you, even if the world ended tomorrow.

the pain needed to come out.

and as you finally gave yourself permission to cry, the bathroom door started to open.

you almost didn't noticed, as the sounds were minimum but what you did noticed was the cologne thranduil always wore.

your stare didn't raised to face him, and he closed the door.

“what on earth are you doing?” his voice sounded like a dagger through your heart, and then you looked at him from the ground.

“i didn't asked you to come here.” your answer was harsh. “you're clearly having a lot of fun with all of this.”

“i don't care about what you think, (y/n).” you felt like your name was cursed on his lips. thranduil's voice was serious. “i asked you a question.”

you got angry instantly. how dared he to even ask something like that?

as you stood up to face him properly, your face swollen from tears and by looking him in the eyes you noticed he was probably high too. yet the weed nor the alcohol were clouding his senses that much.

his eyes were like an ocean, and you were drowning in it. quickly and deeply.

“i don't know what on earth do you want me to answer. i literally don't know.” you said, clearly irritated with his attitude and your voice trembling with fury. “what the fuck do you want me to say?”

“don't talk to me like that” he answered harshly. memories of your last fight came to you like a storm. “i asked you why are you crying in the bathroom like a pathetic little girl” thranduil said. “you were clearly capable of defending yourself two weeks ago”

instantly, you understood he was talking about the fight.

“and you were the same imbecile you're being now.” the answered came from your lips almost drowning you in venom and thranduil's expression became more cold than before if that was even possible. “it didn't occur to you, that maybe and just maybe, i don't want to fight for a man like you in the middle of my friend birthday party?”

“a man like me?” he sounded almost offended, and took a step closer to you, his head over yours and his serious eyes looking down at you. “you were dying for a man like me not even a month ago”

and you were still dying for him.

as thranduil was much taller than you, after the break up you discovered that arguing with him was one of the most intimidating things you'd ever done.

yet you faced him with bravery, not letting him ruin the last pieces you had from your broken heart.

“well i don't want to anymore.” you said and he got more closer, his chest almost touching yours.

“and what kind of man do you want then? you want a man like bard?” thranduil asked and he sounded annoyed, his face was stoic but the subtone of his words betrayed his feelings.

he sounded jealous, and he clearly was.

“and what is your problem if i do?” you bited back, pushing his buttons. “maybe he'll treat me way much better than you, in fact, i'm pretty sure he wouldn't replace or use me « to heal » in the first place.” you avoided his eyes while you spoke, not wanting your look to give away the fact that you didn't wanted to be with anyone else than thranduil.

thranduil let out an irritated puff, then his hand went straight to your face, grabbing it tightly, forcing you to look at him.

“then go date him, (y/n).” he said, his voice becoming rough. “that's really what you want?” thranduil asked.

you didn't answered, as you became nervous. yet your hands went to his chest, trying to push him out but it was useless.

thranduil was visibly angry and an irritated chuckle left his lips.

“but i don't think you want that, do you love?” he said, not really expecting you to say anything, cause he already knew the answer. “actually, if i remember correctly, less than a month ago you were in my bed whimpering for me.”

thranduil calling you « love » again made your heart skip a beat as the rest of his words burned your skin like a wildfire.

“why are you throwing a tantrum, thranduil?” you asked, annoyed. he was completely delusional if he thought you wouldn't fire back. “isn't your new girlfriend enough for you that you have to come looking for me like a little puppy?” every word you said felt like if you were digging your own grave, but you didn't cared at all. thranduil's grip on your face became harder.

the next thing that happened was probably the last thing you expected.

thranduil kissed you fiercely, like a unleashed beast. it was agressive, but you played along.

it was like drinking from an oasis in the middle of the dessert, and you answered him with the same obsessive hunger. you broke the kiss briefly to push him almost violently against the bathroom door, and then you were the one to attack his mouth to shut him up before he could say anything.

a slow song started to sound loudly in the house, making the contact more passionate.

« maybe i'm too young, to keep good love from going wrong »

thranduil went from kissing you like an animal to kiss you tenderly, his hand releasing your face to caress your head. he subtely guided you to the floor, where he sat with his back against the door and you placed yourself in his lap, straddling him.

minutes passed, his lips tasted like if you were drinking napalm making your loins burn, and your blood rushed quickly to your cheeks. both of his hands placed themselves on your hips, pulling you closer as his tongue asked you permission to enter your mouth.

« so 'll wait for you, love, and I'll burn. will I ever see your sweet return? »

you open your mouth and let him do as he please, and thranduil takes the opportunity, introducing his tongue. then, the kiss abandoned its sweet nature to become an agressive fight between the both of you, again. your hands move to his hair, making it messy.

thranduil wastes no time and one of his hands moves to your neck, making a little bit of pressure, while kissing you.

the kiss is broken up by the need to take a little bit of air, and you both look at eachother in the eyes, his hand not leaving its place.

« it's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter »

“i hate you” you say agitated, your lips swollen from the past interaction.

he chuckled, breathing heavily. “i hate you too.”

« it's never over, she is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever »

and then he pulled you to kiss you again, roughly. his left hand went under your dress, caressing your thigh and the other made presure on your neck and made you sigh in between the kiss. thranduil smiled as you kept kissing eachother hungrily, now moving his hand closer to the sweet spot between your legs.

you made sure to kiss him hard, and bited his lip with delicacy as he moved your underwear to the side, thinking that if you were lucky, his girlfriend would taste you too when she kissed him.

thranduil touched you freely, like he still loved you. you whined against his mouth, and he broke the kiss.

“you still want to go out with bard?” he asked, releasing your neck to make you look at him by grabbing your chin. his other hand was between your legs, playing with you and making you sigh again.

« lover, you should've come over, 'cause it's not too late »

there was a brief silence as you tried to hold yourself together to give him an answer.

“n-no.” you said. “do you love her?” the sudden question came from your lips in an agitated whimper as you looked him in the eyes. for some reason you felt he almost rewarded you by moving his hand faster against you, making you gasp.

“no.” thranduil finally asnwered only for you to kiss him again. you grabbed both sides of his face, and his right hand caressed your hair softly.

and then your little make out session was terribly interrupted by loud and violent knocks on the door. you both stood up quickly, like children being caught doing a mischief.

he made you a sign to keep quiet and spoke.

“yes?” thranduil said, calmly.

“babe, is that you?” you rolled your eyes at the sound of his girlfriend's voice. thranduil noticed and a little mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

“yes, it's me. give me five minutes.” he answered, his voice was too calm for the events that unfolded just moments before.

thranduil then pressed you against the wall, next to the door so the door could cover your presence while he went out. you wondered if his new girlfriend was really that stupid to not notice her, but you quickly thought that if thranduil was doing this he probably believed too that she was indeed stupid.

you admired how he always knew how to manage all the situations, but something in your chest ached when he gave you another kiss before whispering a soft « i love you » and opening the door, leaving you shocked.

he loved you. thranduil really loved you.

“im here, love.” thranduil said to her, covering your presence with the door and showing his girlfriend that no one was in the bathroom with him. at least to her eyes.

“the party is ending, thran. we should go.” she said. oh you loathed her, and a part of you hated thranduil for leaving you for her. you wanted him to say no, to stay with you, but he didn't.

“okay. let's go.” he answered, and exited the bathroom, leaving you alone but forgetting to turn off the light.

you walked to the mirror, saw your messy make up, the frustrated look on your face after being interrupted and your lips subtly swollen from the kisses and you laughed.

you fucking laughed.

you laughed because, no matter what she could say or do to compete with you, you've already won. he didn't loved her, he was yours. and you hoped; no, you knew, that everytime she kissed him, she would have to taste you too.

and to think you didn't intended to fight over him on the first place, but now the game was on.

I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKED THIS!! it was super hard for me to finish this, and i plan to do a part 2 so stay tuned <3

[sanfezu]

How bored was I? Yes. Have this and do whatever I guess. I threw all logic out the window. If you find something that is canonically impossible… that is my bad, and I accept it 👍 Have a good one!

❗️This is a concept, and by that I mean that this is an idea that exists without big exploration of it. And it is OOC, especially with PVC, since he’s the only one who was changed. The concept exists just because I was bored and wanted some angst. Angst for the sake of angst, if you will. In the end, this concept will have a lot of flaws, but it is not meant to be an entire AU, with a whole story rewritten. It’s just a little idea, which was probably written by someone else before me, but I don’t know/don’t remember. ❗️ The changes were not made as a “redesign” of Pure Vanilla Cookie. The changes of Pure Vanilla Cookie here were made just for the idea, he is great the way he is in the canon. Thank you.

In general:

This is a more injured and broken version of Healer Cookie, and/or Pure Vanilla Cookie. Everything is the same, except for HC/PVC appearance and personality.

He has major head injury. Yet, he cannot heal it (he tried after Black Raisin Cookie asked him to, and after failing she never asked him to try it again, and he never tried again). Has no idea how he’s still alive (I don’t know as well👍)

He is blind, seeing only really blurry blobs of colours.

Before his memories come back:

He has problems feeling anything. And he has a big problem spacing out a lot. That does not mean he’s fully numb, he has his moments when he feels and a lot.

His Vanilla Orchid Staff is broken, and has a dangerous sharp end where the vanilla orchid once was, but he refuses to let other cookies fix it or get him a somewhat normal walking stick, having a strange connection with it, the feeling he cannot explain yet. The vanilla orchid itself is nowhere to be found (and they don’t know how the staff should look, so they never tried finding the other half of it)

Because Healer Cookie is blind, having such a dangerous staff, the Villagers of Abandoned Village decided to cover the staff where he holds it with bandages for him to feel where it’s okay to hold. They did try to get it fully wrapped, but the sharp end just rips the covers open. 

He has his hair gathered in a messy right-sided ponytail, with his hair being loose on his left side. His hair is also greenish on the ends and he has some grey hairs being here and there. 

He does not speak much. Yet, he is still gentle and polite just like OG Pure Vanilla Cookie.

Additional:

Black Raisin Cookie had a feeling she knew who he actually was, since his face is not covered showing his eye and half of the four-pointed star on his forehead, but she had her doubts since Pure Vanilla Cookie supposed to be dead, so she decided not to pry (not that he remembered himself anyway). 

GingerBrave and CO. also had a thought about Pure Vanilla Cookie when they saw Healer Cookie. They did ask him about it, yet, he said he didn’t really know what they’re talking about. All the things that were happening with Healer Cookie during their adventure were all noticed by the CO. proofing that the Healer Cookie might in fact be Pure Vanilla Cookie. 

Dark Enchantress Cookie was not happy seeing him, immediately recognising him. “You’re a no one cookie” conversation never happened.

After his memories come back:

He still has problems expressing himself, but he is getting a little bit better.

His Vanilla Orchid Staff was revived (how, you may ask… magic), so he can finally see through it.

Loosen his hair, yet they are still messy and greenish on the ends. Grey hairs never left. Sometimes gets them in the same ponytail as Healer cookie.

Speaks more, but gets tired while doing so now.

With time everything gets better and easier… until the jester dropped by.

During Beast Yeast:

Nothing really changes except for Pure Vanilla Cookie’s appearance and personality (a little bit, but that’s due to head injury that never got healed and the numbness he feels from now and then).

Truthless Recluse still happens.

As I said, nothing basically changes here or anywhere else, except for Pure Vanilla Cookie’s appearance and personality.

That’s basically it, do whatever, have fun.

[valy-gc]

Game Idea - now a novel

Well... originally a dating sim game idea that will be a novel because I don't have any programmation skills nor the money to pay some developpers, but I like it and got lots of ideas for it so let's just share it.

If you want to make a OC and/or your MC from it, then have fun, I would love it ^-^ (list of existing ones at the end ^^)

It's a dating sim, mix between "Twisted Wonderland" and "Obey me!"

This is mostly ideas thrown like this in a messy way. But you can now read the novel version here:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 -All other chapters will only be on the other plateforms, always free to read

whole on my Tapas, Toyhouse, Ao3 or wattpad

I also introduce all the characters on Toyhouse, UnVale or Deviantart and regularly post here on tumblr about it

And to not have to search through my tumblr, you can find every single infos about Scriptoria, on my Toyhouse as well.

everything under the cut

As a new student at Fablewood Academy, you are mysteriously invited after stumbling upon an ancient storybook. Among peers who resonate with legendary characters from fables and folklore, you stand apart—unable to resonate with any historical figure. Instead, you uncover a profound connection to the mysterious Writers.

Navigating the competitive dorm dynamics and building relationships with students and teachers, you begin to unravel the secrets of Scriptoria, the world of stories. With your unique bond to the Writers, you hold the key to saving it from an ancient force threatening to rewrite history itself.

~~~~

World

"Scriptoria" A magical world shaped by the memories and writings of the legendary Writers, who recorded the lives and deeds of its inhabitants.

~~~~

The Writers :

The authors of fairytales we knows, they are called the "writers" not because they have wrote the tales (since it's supposed to be all real stories in this world) but because they were keeper of memories, noting everything that was happening in the world, which permitted the actual characters to knows all about the stories.

The Writers and Their Origins

Connection to Their Stories and Cultures:

Jean de La Fontaine (Beastman from Beasthaven): La Fontaine, a fox beastman, had a knack for observing the social structures of Beasthaven’s vibrant and diverse communities.

Hans Christian Andersen (Mer from the Seafoam Dominion): Andersen was a merman with a melancholic streak, deeply inspired by the beauty and sorrow of the sea. His ability to capture fleeting emotions and weave them into poetic tales was unparalleled.

The Grimm Brothers (Goblins from Myrcadawn): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm were goblin-faes, an unexpected yet fitting revelation. The magic of the Writers kept their mischief in check, channeling their keen wit and curiosity into recording humanity's most primal fears and hopes. Their goblin heritage explains the darker, more visceral tone of their collected tales.

Charles Perrault (Human from Austreim): Perrault was a human writer from the cobblestone streets of Austreim. Known for his elegance and refinement, he focused on moralistic tales that resonated with high society while still appealing to common folk. His work emphasized transformation and perseverance, ideals he believed could bridge social divides.

An so many more… In short, every single race and country had one or multiple Writers.

The Omniscience of the Writers

The Writers weren’t ordinary historians—they were endowed with a unique form of magic called Storysense.

Storysense Explained: Writers could sense when someone was destined for a life-altering story—one that would leave a profound impact on their world and become a tale told for generations.

When they encountered such an individual, their magic activated instinctively, drawing them to observe and record the person’s journey.

This connection allowed them to witness events in real-time, ensuring no detail was missed.

The Rule of Non-Intervention: Writers were forbidden from interfering in the stories they recorded. Their role was to document, not shape, the fates of those they observed.

Consequences of Breaking the Rule: If a Writer intervened, their Storysense could fracture, leaving them unable to detect new stories. Worse, they might accidentally unravel the tale they were meant to preserve, altering history itself. (e.g. Helping Cinderella to escape her abusing family would prevent her from meeting her prince and she would not become the Great queen Austreim had known)

The Role of the Writers’ Magic

Memory-Keeping: The Writers’ magic extended beyond mere observation. They could project their memories into enchanted quills or scrolls, creating flawless records of events. These documents became powerful artifacts that resonated with the essence of the stories they contained.

The Grand Archive: All Writers’ works were stored in a magical repository known as the Grand Archive. The archive it a living entity, capable of organizing itself and occasionally revealing forgotten tales to those in need of their wisdom.

The Grand Archive’s real position is unknown and is hidden in its own pocket dimension. This dimension open slightly for the Resonance Ceremony.

The Writers’ Legacy

Unique Perspectives: Each Writer brought their cultural background and personal perspective to their work, enriching the world of Scriptoria with a tapestry of diverse stories.

La Fontaine’s fables emphasized cleverness and morality.

Andersen’s tales highlighted emotion and transformation.

The Grimms’ stories embraced the primal, magical forces of nature and humanity.

Perrault’s narratives bridged the elegance of court life with the struggles of common folk.

~~~~

Locations

Austreim: Inspired by European fairytales (Germany, France, Scandinavia). A realm of picturesque forests, cobblestone towns, and grand castles. Home to tales like "Cinderella" and "Little Red Riding Hood."

Beasthaven: A country inspired by La Fontaine’s animal fables. Predominantly inhabited by beastmen. Features different biomes in different part of the land, from lush forests and rolling meadows to savannah or thundra. The country is known for their lively markets in every biome.

Seafoam Dominion: An underwater kingdom of mermen and aquatic fae. Draws inspiration from Andersen's stories. Has shimmering underwater cities and shores dotted with mythical artifacts.

Ebony Sands: Inspired by African folktales such as "The Man Who Never Lied." A sun-drenched land of deserts, savannahs, river deltas and ancient temples.

Celestial Plains: Based on East Asian folktales, blending Chinese, korean, Japanese stories among others. Features rolling hills of bamboo, cherry blossoms, and mystical shrines guarded by spirits.

Myrcadawn: A borderland filled with ancient ruins, magical storms, and creatures from forgotten tales. Mostly inhabited by faes.

~~~~

"Fablewood Academy" An all-boy institution dedicated to preserving the legacy of the writers and their stories. Located at the heart of Scriptoria, blending all cultural styles. Where the Writers’ legacies are studied and the world's future is shaped.

~~~~

The Resonance Ceremony

When a student enters the school, they undergo a Resonance Ceremony, a deeply symbolic ritual that determines their connection to an Historical Character (a character from fairytales and myths).

Ceremony Description:

The Setting: The ceremony takes place in a grand, mystical chamber called the Hall of Echoes, a circular room lined with glowing murals of countless legendary figures. In the center, on the ground like a pond, is the Ethereal Mirror, which shimmers like water and reflects not the student’s image, but fragments of their potential resonance.

The Ritual:

The student steps up to the mirror, guided by a faculty member.

The mirror reacts to their essence, glowing brighter as it identifies the Historical Character whose moral compass and essence most closely align with the student’s.

The chosen figure materializes as a spectral image above the mirror, accompanied by a brief vision of their story, morals, and defining characteristics.

The student receives an Artefact Sigil, a magical mark on their hand, symbolizing their connection. The sigil also acts as a key to their dormitory.

Outcomes:

The character determines the student’s dorm assignment. Dorms represent shared principles or traits rather than region or story type, which creates unique diversity within each house.

The student begins to develop their Legacy Arte, influenced by their resonance.

~~~~

Dorm Names & Founders

Astraquartz (Inspired by Cinderella, Charles Perrault): Represents perseverance, humility, and transformation.

Scarletfang (Inspired by Little Red Riding Hood, Grimm Brothers): Represents courage and cunning.

Everswell (Inspired by The Little Mermaid, Hans Christian Andersen): Represents sacrifice and curiosity.

Mousetrail (Inspired by The Lion and the Mouse, La Fontaine): Represents cleverness and loyalty.

Obsidianspire (Inspired by Mamad in "The Man Who Never Lied", unknown Writer (African tale)): Represents honesty and wisdom.

Verdance (Inspired by "The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter", Minamoto no Shitagō): Represents grace and adaptability.

~~~~

Resonance Dynamics

Living By Their Resonance: Students are expected to uphold the values and morals of their Resonance Character. Deviating too far from these principles leads to a Resonance Crisis, where the bond becomes unstable.

Resonance Crises: In a crisis, a student’s personality and abilities are warped by the unresolved conflict. They might embody the antithesisof their Historical Character, becoming a distorted, corrupted version of their story’s ideals.

Example: A student resonating with The Happy Prince may hoard wealth selfishly, spiraling into greed, causing their Legacy Arte to malfunction.

Resolution: To restore balance, the student must confront their choices and find a way to realign with their character’s core principles, often with the help of peers or the protagonist.

The Nature of Resonance

Resonance is not a rigid set of rules that dictate a person’s every thought or action. Instead, it represents a core essence—a reflection of the Resonance Character’s archetype, personality, and values. When a student resonates with a character, it means they share a similar foundation, but they are free to interpret and act on that foundation in their own unique way.

Core Principles of Resonance

Guiding Influence, Not Control: The Resonance doesn't force someone to behave exactly like their historical counterpart. Instead, it provides a general blueprint of traits, preferences, and tendencies that align with the character’s essence.

Example: Coach Garrick’s Resonance with the Big Bad Wolf doesn’t mean he must terrorize pigs—it means he shares the wolf’s gruff, bold, and predatory nature. How he channels those traits is entirely up to him. For Garrick, they manifest as a tough love coaching style.

Freedom to Choose Actions: While Resonance shapes a student's instincts and inclinations, their choices define their character. They can act in harmony with their Resonance without being confined to it.

Example: Elric, resonating with Cinderella's Stepmother, naturally enjoys luxury and attention. However, he can choose to respect others while enjoying these things, rather than mistreating them like the original stepmother did. If he strays too far—say, by shunning luxury entirely—it might destabilize his Resonance, but small acts of kindness wouldn’t harm it.

Resonance Crisis Is About Extremes: A Resonance Crisis occurs when a student goes against their core nature to an extreme degree, causing an inner conflict. This doesn’t happen because of minor deviations but because of a deep misalignment.

Example: If Elric started wearing rags and actively rejecting his love of luxury, his Resonance would destabilize. But respecting servants or treating them kindly, while still enjoying the finer things, would maintain balance.

Here are clear, narrative-driven examples to help clarify how Resonance works without feeling restrictive:

Garrick “Grizz” Wolfin (Big Bad Wolf): Garrick’s Resonance gives him traits like gruffness, strength, and an intimidating aura. He embodies the archetype of the wolf, but how he uses those traits is his choice. He could easily become a bully, but instead, he channels his gruff demeanor into being a demanding yet caring PE teacher. His choices define him, not the wolf.

Elric Briarthorne (Cinderella’s Stepmother): Elric shares the stepmother’s love for luxury, beauty, and a touch of laziness. However, he is not bound to repeat her cruelty. Elric can enjoy being pampered and commanding attention without mistreating others. If he rejects his natural affinity for elegance entirely, he risks a Resonance Crisis, but respecting a servant while maintaining his love for luxury keeps him in balance.

~~~~

Resonance Crisis: The Fractured Legacy

What Happens?

When a mage’s bond with their Resonance Character destabilizes, their Artefact Sigil fractures, and their inner conflict manifests as a dangerous, externalized force called a Fractured Legacy. The Fractured Legacy represents the mage's core identity spiraling out of control, with tangible consequences for the individual and their surroundings.

Mechanics of a Resonance Crisis

Stages of the Crisis:

Warning Phase: The Artefact Sigil dims or cracks subtly, signaling instability. The mage exhibits heightened emotional extremes or behaviors contrary to their Resonance Character.

Example: A Cinderella Resonance becoming tyrannical and dismissive, echoing the stepmother’s cruelty.

Threshold Event: A traumatic or critical moment causes the bond to fully destabilize. The mage’s Artefact Sigil shatters, triggering the Crisis.

Transformation:

The mage transforms into an Echoed Antithesis of their Resonance Character—a distorted, exaggerated version of their worst traits.

Example: A Little Red Riding Hood Resonance becomes a wolf-like beast, embodying predation and fear instead of courage.

The environment around them twists to reflect their turmoil—spreading corruption, illusions, or chaotic phenomena tied to the Resonance.

Manifestation:

The Fractured Legacy takes a physical or semi-physical form—either merging with the student or manifesting as external entities they must face.

Example: The transformed mage might summon spectral versions of antagonists, or their minions, from their Resonance Character’s tale, or their surroundings could morph into a warped, nightmarish version of their story.

Consequences

Prolonged Crisis states can cause lasting damage to the mage—mental, physical, or magical.

If unresolved, the bond with their Resonance Character could sever entirely, leaving them vulnerable to permanent loss of their Arte and magical abilities.

Resolving a Resonance Crisis

Core Resolution:

The mage must confront the internal conflict driving their instability.

Example: A Happy Prince Resonance consumed by greed might need to realize that hoarding wealth doesn’t bring joy or fulfill their true essence.

This confrontation often requires the help of others, especially the protagonist, who serves as a mediator or guide.

Reformation:

The Artefact Sigil repairs itself, often evolving into a stronger form, symbolizing the student’s personal growth.

The Legacy Arte might gain new abilities tied to the lessons learned during the Crisis.

Designing the Fractured Legacy

Visuals:

The Crisis should have a haunting yet poetic visual style that reflects the student’s Resonance Character.

Example: A Cinderella Resonance would look more like a deformed version of the stepmother or the stepsisters, surrounded by jagged shards of broken glass and spectral pumpkin monsters.

Themes:

Each Crisis explores the darker side of the Resonance Character’s traits.

Example: A Little Mermaid Resonance, consumed by jealousy, might suffocate others in waves of magical water, symbolizing their suppressed longing for acceptance.

Combat Dynamics in Resonance Crises

Fractured Legacy Boss Fights:

The mage undergoing the Crisis transforms into a formidable, story-inspired boss.

Example: A Big Bad Wolf Resonance could manifest as a towering wolf-like monster with powerful wind attacks, symbolic of their huffing and puffing.

Emotional Mechanics:

Incorporate dialogue or cutscenes mid-fight to remind players this isn’t just a battle—it’s an attempt to reach someone in pain.

Example: As the protagonist deals damage, the Fractured Legacy might shout distorted lines from their tale or reveal their inner turmoil through flashes of memory.

Combat Objective:

The goal isn’t necessarily to defeat the character in a traditional sense but to weaken their Fractured Legacy enough to restore clarity.

Player Options in Combat

Artefact Sigil Powers:

The characters used can use their own Legacy Arte abilities, which align with their Resonance Characters, to counteract the Fractured Legacy’s powers.

Example: A character resonating with the Little Mermaid might summon tidal waves to neutralize a fire-based Fractured Legacy attack.

Special Techniques:

Introduce a Breakthrough Strike mechanic where players can charge a special attack tied to the Resonance Character of the opponent.

Example: Against a Red Riding Hood Resonance, a teammate resonating with the Woodsman could unleash an axe-cleaving move that counters the wolf-like powers.

Group Synergy:

Peers with similar values or with a character from the same story to the Resonance Character in Crisis might deal bonus damage or have abilities to calm the Crisis state.

Emotional Impact of Combat

Hitting Hard With Purpose:

The protagonist struggles with the morality of fighting a friend or peer. Dialogue options or animations could reflect hesitation and determination.

Example: “I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t let you destroy yourself!”

Each successful attack might shatter parts of the Fractured Legacy’s appearance, revealing glimpses of the real student underneath.

Dynamic Reactions:

As the player weakens the Fractured Legacy, they could start to show signs of clarity—stammering, pleading, or showing flashes of regret mid-battle.

Example: A Cinderella Resonance Crisis might sob, “Why am I acting like this? This isn’t me!” as their Fractured Legacy starts to crumble.

~~~~

Legacy Arte

Each Legacy Arte is tied to the unique essence of the resonated Historical Character. These are not static powers—they grow and evolve as the student’s connection deepens. It can be an offensive or defensive ability, a practical one for everyday or even a constant unseen ability (enhancing strenght, magic powers or anything else)

For example:

A student resonating with Princess Kaguya might have an Arte called Moonlit Grace, allowing them to summon moonlight to shield themselves and others. As they grow, the Arte might evolve into Celestial Radiance, granting healing and offense.

~~~~

Artefact Sigil

The Artefact Sigil serves as both a resonance stabilizer and a channel for magic, directly tied to the student's connection with their Resonance Character. It appears on the student's hand during the Resonance Ceremony.

Key Features of the Artefact Sigil

Appearance:

A glowing, dynamic symbol or glyph that reflects the essence of the Resonance Character. Its design evolves as the bond deepens, becoming more intricate and vibrant.

Example:

Astraquartz: A delicate glass slipper.

Scarletfang: A bold wolf’s paw print, with thorny vines wrapping around it.

Everswell: A flowing wave, centered with a small pearl-like dot.

Mousetrail: A small mouse.

Obsidianspire: A tall spire with rays of light radiating from its top.

Verdance: A crescent moon embraced by bamboo leaves.

Functionality:

Magic Channeling: The Sigil channels the student’s magic, focusing and amplifying their spells. It glows or pulses during use, with colors and intensity varying based on the magic type.

Legacy Arte Activation: The Artefact Sigil is the key to unlocking and evolving Legacy Arte abilities. As the student grows, the Sigil adapts to better support these powers.

Resonance Stabilization: The Sigil detects and moderates Resonance Crises. If a student strays too far from their Resonance Character’s core ideals, the Sigil dims or cracks slightly, serving as a warning. It also emits calming energy to help realign the connection.

Personal Connection: The Sigil is an inseparable part of the student, growing and changing with them. This deep connection makes magic feel more instinctive and intimate, as it’s literally a part of their body.

~~~~~~~~

Lore Tie-In

Origins: The Artefact Sigil was created by the Writers, using fragments of their own memories as the foundation. This ensures that every Sigil is a direct link to the archives of Scriptoria.

The Resonance Bond: The Sigil embodies the merging of the student’s essence with their Resonance Character. Its visible state reflects the health of this bond, making it both a tool and a representation of their inner journey.

~~~~

Scriptos Currency System

Coins (for smaller transactions):

1 Scripto:Copper coin

5 Scriptos: Bronze coin

10 Scriptos:Silver coin

50 Scriptos:Gold coin

Bills (for larger transactions):

100 Scriptos

200 Scriptos

500 Scriptos

1,000 Scriptos

10,000 Scriptos

Design Details

Coins:

Each coin feature an emblem of a quill or an open book to symbolize creativity and storytelling.

The coins shimmer faintly or show shifting patterns when exposed to light.

Bills:

The bills have holographic text or illustrations that animate briefly (e.g., a bird flying off a quill or ink drops forming a picture).

They feature famous Scriptoria figures, mostly the Writers, with each having different possible figures. -the 100 could feature Pu Songling or D. O. Fagunwa, -200 feature Don Juan Manuel, Alexander Pushkin or Giovanni Francesco Straparola -500 feature Charles Perrault, the brother Grimm or La Fontaine, -1000 feature Al-Jahiz, Hans Christian Andersen or Valmiki, -10 000 feature Joseph Jacobs or Alexander Afanasyev …)

The bills and coins are waterproof. Coin will not get rusty if used by merpeoples.

Practical Conversion

1 Scripto = 0.01 USD

100 Scriptos = 1 USD

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

Maps

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

Classes taught, teachers and staff:

Lorecraft: Liora Scheh

Fairmagic: Ozwell Puzzlereign

Mythic Combat: Thorne Evenshade

Alchemy & Potionmaking: Neige Snowveil

Transformation Arts: Hans Wilderkin

Astronomy & Prophecy: Beaumont Nocturne

Musical Resonance: Lino Minuet

Beastcraft: Swan Ellisar

Tactician’s Lab: Malvyn Frostthorn

Magic Application and Arte Development: Lucan Galehart

Ancient Curses : Mordain Grimm

Runic Engineering : Aldric Fenwick

PE: Garrick “Grizz” Wolfin

Flying Arts: Zephyr Gale

Aquatic Mastery : Merrick Tideborn

Art: Caspar Dorne

Maths: Mikhail Sabirsky

Other staff members:

Headmage: Solon Arclight

Ethics and Resonance Guidance Counselor: Anton Silkthorn

Nurse: Eamon Wellspring

Shopkeeper: Percival Trinket

Chef Cook: Goldor Hearthstone

Keeper of the Grand Archive and librarian: Dorian Ashthorn

Farm Manager: Rustan Featherstone

Are in relationship: Solon x Liora Swan x Beaumont x Lino Merrick x Malvyn

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

Classes and Seats :

First Years

1-A 05 – Tsuki Laito 1-A 09 – Rune Spindlewick 1-A ?? – MC 1-B 02 – Hatterick Marchhare 1-B 04 – Lyricis Farahdein 1-B 07 – Imperius Wovengale 1-C 08 – Elric Briarthorne 1-C 10 – Archer Verdain 1-D 02 – Kadar Serpenscale 2-D 07 – Ren Chisora 1-E 01 – Imran Frosham

Second Years

2-A 06 – Marinus Tideshade 2-A 08 – Minwoo Kinsei 2-B 06 – Tressari Manarah 2-B 08 – Cygnus Downwood 2-B 11 – Noel D'Orveil 2-C 03 – Porcus Huffsbrick 2-C 05 – Thatcher Squeakefield 2-D 03 – Mahdi Alclaris 2-D 17 – Éponine D’Orveil 2-E 04 – Caspian Willorun

Third Years

3-A 02 – Faylen Charmwright 3-A 16 – Khamari Duneshade 3-B 03 – Lupin Vardred 3-B 04 – Ambrosine Forrant 3-D 07 – Chester Marroway 3-D 15 – Jin Haruto 3-E 05 – Lazlo Quickstride

Fourth Years

4-A / 4-B / 4-C 02 – Gael Lumespring 4-D 08 / 4-E /

Fifth Years

Intership

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

MCs:

@iylenne - Betty

@whynotread4fun - Ravi Connor

OCs:

@another-twisted-wonderland-fan - Nova Escher

@uruubu - Zarachios A. Salubelair

@kaltain-1 - Jihyuk Kwon

[arimiaromage]

thoughts about dgm chapter 251

gonna throw my thoughts about these new revelations here.

bookman jr or past!allen?

she got us good! I was in shock when I first read it (all my headcanons about pasta, out the window! thrown! chunked!) but now I'm more fine with it.

I believe what happened was that hoshino drew the bookman jr in those flashbacks with nea on purpose - she wanted us to think that was allen and bookman jr. the flashbacks aren't past!allen with longer hair, this is definitely the bookman jr, as we can tell now.

it also makes more sense now why "allen" was talking about high concepts like the spiral being the force for life - it really was a bookman!

I fully think she did this switcharoo on purpose. if we look at her most recent livestream (translated by ponkotsubluuues), someone comments that they were shocked past!allen and bookman jr weren't the same person. her response is basically "yes, I know". she's not surprised people would think that, this was probably deliberately on purpose.

bookman jr & past!allen

okay, now on to some thoughts on who they actually are. I won't stick long here as we'll probably find out in just a few months and we don't have much to go on right now.

personally, I don't really care to ever meet allen's blood relatives. it's never interested me who he's "actually" related to and I always felt it would add even more complicated feelings for him and even more complexity to an already messy as hell family & relationship tree.

that being said, I wouldn't be surprised if bookman jr and allen are some kind of family unit, be it blood related or not. when they begin talking about the two of them as separate people, lucia refers to them as "two young men". so they're probably not father and son, but I could see them as brothers or some sort of brotherhood if they're not blood related.

maybe past!allen is a traveling clown who toured the world with bookman jr LOL.....?

either way, bookman jr was so compelled to protect allen & nea that he gave his life for them. I'm so, so eager to see their bond.

cross marian

who the hell is cross marian in all of this?

we know the cross has been around since almost adam's time, having been with mana and nea since they were children-

so we know that regardless of who is he, he's known about and visited the campbell manor for decades.

in this chapter, they even bring him up by name.

not only does allen ask about him, but lucia talks a bit about him as well.

and note that they're not saying something like "my master left a message for me" and lucia just goes along with it- allen says "my master cross" and lucia continues by saying his full name. she knows exactly who he's talking about.

(allen specifically says "cross shishou" = "master cross" but lucia called him "cross marian")

to me, this is one of the main reasons I don't believe cross is bookman jr. I believe he's somehow tied to the bookman, but I don't think he's the missing jr. if he was, why does lucia refer to him as cross here but not later? she clearly knows who allen is referring to, so wouldn't the bookman have searched for cross and found him with relative ease, given he was at the order for quite a while with bookman & lavi up until apocryphos attacked him?

lucia and the master only refer to bookman jr as "junior", not cross marian. if you're desperately looking for cross marian and are fully aware allen knows who that is, then why not call him that? what do you have to lose at this point?

and furthermore, if cross was this bookman jr, how did he forget who HE made the host? how did he lose allen? redarm!allen looks a lot more like this new past!allen and they both have redish brown hair - if you were traveling with this guy, you should be able to recognize him even if he's de-aged like 8 years, ESPECIALLY once mana takes him in and his hair becomes styled the exact same way.

I know we always have the deus ex machina of apocryphos' memory changing but I really don't want that to be the case for every character, the more you do it the more it becomes a contrivance.

cross definitely has SOME connection to the bookman, I don't feel like his mask and knowledge of bookman things is entirely a red herring. lucia makes it sound like cross reached out to them regarding the campbell manor, but I'll get to that in a bit.

the other leading theory is that cross is cyrus campbell, katerina's brother and head of the family. I feel like this holds a bit more water than him being a bookman, as it'd explain why he was the campbell manor when mana and nea were so young (and presumably before nea became a noah) and why he has worked so tirelessly for both of them.

remember, his innocence maria greatly resembles katerina. it's possible this is katerina's corpse, being infested by innocence. maybe this is from innocence cross was carrying finding its way to her corpse or maybe it was a failed attempt to save her, we don't really know yet.

(I'm not fully convinced about the cyrus theory either though, as why does nea refer to cross as cross instead of cyrus or uncle? how would the order not know about his family and how obviously tied to the noah he is? how could he not recognize allen, his nephew's most trusted friend?)

there have been some theories that maybe the campbells are a bookman family, which may be the case and would help explain why cross has a connection to both, but the way lucia words this part makes me think otherwise.

she makes it sound like the campbell manor wasn't always under their jurisdiction, that it came to be that way but wasn't always. but that might be pulling at straws. I just don't think she'd word it this way if cross = bookman jr.

I'm not fully convinced about either theory about cross as I see holes in both of them. just have to wait and see~

personally I'd still like it if cross was just a childhood friend who got way too attached but we'll see 😂 or maybe he was just pining for katerina from afar....

crown clown

I feel pretty confident now that this is past!allen being hugged by bookman jr, possibly for the last time / as bookman jr's way to protect him.

but I also can't help but feel.... it reminds me of crowned clown, you know? the way it wraps around allen, covering him in an attempt to protect him. even the cut off tips. it really reminds me of that.

the bookman are no stranger to innocence. we also don't know when allen acquired his innocence- did past!allen have it? or...... did bookman jr give it to him as he was dying? did he think it would protect him and nea (and why would he give a noah innocence)?

I would not be surprised if there was some connection between bookman jr and allen's innocence.

allen

I absolutely loved this part.

the pure conviction in his face. no regrets. he finally has a chance to clear up his mind, to cast away the fear he's dealt with for so long about who he actually is. so, so good.

but........ WHO IS ALLEN WALKER????? the burning question. who knows at this point.

I'm very excited to see the next parts, even if it apparently isn't the 35 year flashback (her own words, from the aforementioned livestream) - I assume it'll be a flashback to past!allen meeting nea possibly, or them finding out nea isn't a typical noah, or some major event that happened before shit went down.

yeah that's about it, see yall next time ✌️

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Among Strangers II | Han + Bang Chan

Synopsis: You know nothing is ever as it seems. You never assume and you always expect for things to get a little messy. You didn't expect for things to end up like this though. Not like this...

Pairings: CEO Bang Chan x AFAB Reader x Han Jisung

Content Includes: smut, non idol au, light bondage, possessiveness, biting/marking, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie lots, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mfm, angst, jealousy, light fluff, happy ending.

an: there's a lot going on in this one and I'm sure I missed some content to list. If you feel that I should add it please let me know♡ Also forgive me if this doesn't do justice to part one... I tried ಠ⁠﹏⁠ಠ

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

PS: Those who asked to be tagged/asked for part 2 are tagged. If you want to be removed please let me know.

Also thank you to everyone who expressed their love for part one. Even if I didn't respond, your words meant more than you can ever imagine, more than I can even say♡

It's been a whole week since that steamy, unforgettable encounter with your hot new boss, Chris, in that crowded subway car. Now, every time you catch each other's gaze at work, it's like reliving that sweet sinful moment all over again. The memory of his hands on your skin and the warmth of his chest pressed against your back still lingers. The tension between you two is palpable, and your cheeks flush hot every time he brushes past you in the hall. His playful smile, those charming dimples, they only add fuel to the fire that continuously burns in you and the physical reactions your body has when he's near.

You've tried avoiding him but he's everywhere. Every turn there he is, dark eyes, hair perfectly styled and outfit tailored in all black perfection looking runway ready. Each time you've seen him and turned to walk in the opposite direction, there he is. It's like he spawns in front of you and there's nothing you can do but blush at the sight of him as he walks away with some important looking people. It isn't until Friday at the end of your shift that he catches you in the staff break room when you go to get your thermos from the fridge.

“You've been avoiding me, y/n ” Chris states, his voice low, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

You spin around startled, heart in your throat and too stunned to speak. The top three buttons of his black dress shirt are undone and his sleeve have been rolled up halfway. He looks breathtaking and the sudden sight of him throws you off. You didn't see much of him today so you figured he either was too busy or just left earlier but here he is looking just as sexy as he did that day on the subway. The way he’s looking at you right now you don't trust yourself being alone with him. Not while still being at work where there's a risk of anyone catching you two. Swallowing nervously you back up as he starts to walk towards you smiling.

“Do I make you nervous y/n?” He asks, getting closer to you. Your heart is pounding far too fast now. It would be a miracle if he couldn't hear it himself. Why is he making you react this way?

“No.” Your voice comes out small and weak as you lie. He can see the way your chest rises and falls rapidly that you're full of shit.

When he reaches you, your back is against the counter and he cages you with his arms, hands on the edge of the counter. You smell so good to him and he loves the soft blush on your cheeks. He wants to see it deepen while he's deep inside you. Every time he saw you earlier in the week he could feel his cock stiffen at the memory of your cunt around him. He wanted nothing more than to take you and bend you over his desk.

Just yesterday he lost it when he saw you in the hall wearing all black like him. He couldn't help but wonder if you did it on purpose. The tight black skirt that reached your knees hugged your curves and the blouse you wore made his imagination run wild. He took his erection in his hands in his office thinking about how pretty you would look on your knees with all of him down your throat.

“I could have you right here, right now y/n. I want to. Do you want me to?” You bite your lip and nervously look at the door behind him. “It's locked. Just say the word.”

You open your mouth to speak only to close it and nibble on your lip with your face full of uncertainty. It isn't that you don't want him. You positively want him in the worst way, in every way possible, yet you hesitate still. He's watching you, still smiling sweetly waiting for your answer and you can't help but notice the barely visible freckles that pepper his handsome face. They go from his cheek bones and up around the outside of his eyes like stars. You're lost in his beauty when you notice how red his ears have gotten and he chuckles.

“Like what you see y/n?” He teases trying to sound cocky but there's a shyness to his words. You take him by surprise when you nod and finally speak up.

“Yes. To both of your questions. My answer is yes.” You tell him and his brows go up in surprise before his hands are on your hips and he's kissing you, groaning when your lips make contact.

You wondered how those lush full lips would feel on yours and it's like nothing you could've imagined it to be like. His lips are soft and taste of strawberries as his tongue glides over yours before he nibbles on your bottom lip. Just with a kiss he makes you feel weightless, like you're suspended in the air. As the kiss grows more intense you can taste his need and Chris is lifting you up sitting you down on the countertop standing between your legs.

“Fuck y/n, do you have any idea how crazy I was feeling the whole week without hearing from you?” He asks after pulling away from your lips. “Nothing I did satisfied my hunger. Only your cunt can do that.” He kisses you again and rubs his hard bulge over your clit through your dress and hitches up the hem.

He reaches between you both and with his fingers rips your thong like it was made out of paper. Your moans are loud with shock but muffled by the kiss. He pulls back and looks at you with eyes like embers and kneels between your legs. He wastes no time in diving his hot tongue inside of you. He shows no mercy on your cunt and it doesn't take long to feel that electric sensation in you build but he stops just before you can reach your climax. He growls “no.” when he feels your muscles tighten around his tongue.

He looks up at you, his neat hair now a mess because of your greedy fingers and he says, “You'll cum on my cock again. I've got to feel you bear hug my cock like last time y/n.” He says standing up straight, flicking his belt out of the loops and it falls to the sides as he begins to unbutton and unzip his slacks. “I'd bound your wrist with my belt if I wasn't so fucking desperate to feel you.” With a clack his pants hit the ground and he snaps into your drenched sex hard.

In one thrust he's completely inside of you with a groan deep in his throat from the pleasure. Your eyes are on the ceiling, mouth hung open in a silent Oh. A moan that got stuck somewhere in your throat, lost in oblivion. You forget all about where you are, only that you can finally wrap your legs and arms Chris's muscular body and grind your pussy into him as he fucks you instead of having to be restricted. His cock feels so much lengthier this way and each time he bottoms out your moans get so loud you have to bite down on his shoulder over the neatly pressed black cotton of his shirt.

“Fuck y/n, I knew you'd feel amazing around me like this. Free to move, free to… ah. Free to crush me with your thighs.” He tells you and his arm wraps around your waist tighter. “Come back to my place after work tomorrow baby.” It's not really a question, though if you said no he wouldn't force you. He knows your mind is so muddled with lust and passion that you'll agree. Because you need him right now, because you're so close.

“Yes! Oh god Chris fuck. Yes I'll come. Fuck i'm gonna cum.” You gasp. Every breath leaving your lungs is cut short with each of his rough thrusts and he smirks against your neck.

“Yeah baby, thatta girl. Cum on Chris's cock. You can do it for me. Be as fucking loud as you want. No one can do anything about it. This building is mine and so is this pussy.” He grunts, his body trembling.

Although it's only the second time, you've noticed that he sets claim to you when he's close to cumming. When he really relaxes and lets go, he loses all of his composure.

“Y/n, don't hold back princess, I need to hear you. I wanted to hear you moan my name on that fucking Subway to let everyone around us know that it was me making you feel good.”

Instead you bite through the fabric of his shirt harder making him hiss and slam into your cunt harder than he has. The sensation makes you come crashing down shuddering and whimpering into his shirt as your cunt convulses around his cock. He keeps his thrusts going, pushing past your muscles that tighten. He's groaning loud, not caring about who walks past the break room door. Every curse, every praise can be heard by anyone within fifteen feet of the room.

“That's it. Fuck, oh yeah baby keep cumming for me, don't stop beautiful. Make a fucking mess on my cock.” He groans, slamming his cock into you and rotating his hips.

He could very well cum right now, fill your pussy just like he did last week but he's holding back because he wants you sore and spent when you go home. He wants your mind on nothing but his cock until he sees you again.

“Mm fucking hell. You like that don't you? Yeah I can tell you do. Your pussy tells me just what I need to know baby girl.”. He breathes, voice sounding strained.

He feels like he's going to go insane. The veins in his neck, arms and hands are prominent showing just how hard he's fucking you and how much he's straining himself. It's taking a lot for him to hold back and wait for you to cum again especially when you arch your back like that, eyes shut, mouth hanging open and whispering his name over and over. It's a beautiful fucking sight to him. He should've waited until he had you in his bed but soon as he saw you step off the elevator and walk into this room his feet were moving. He meant every word when he said that nothing could satisfy his hunger except for your cunt but now he's not even sure that'll do it. He still feels like a starving man even now that he's balls deep inside of you, ready to coat your walls white.

“Gonna cum, I can't- mm! I can't… I can't fucking hold it anymore y/n, shit!.”

You open your eyes and find his eyes on you, round and glassy like he's high. His face and ears are red and his bottom lip is pulled in-between his teeth grunting into you. You feel his cum filling you up and the pressure sends another orgasm ripping through your body. You're both shuddering and out of breath and equally both craving more.

“Shit that was fucking intense y/n.” He whispers, still feeling your cunt fluttering around his cock like butterfly wings.

The clock on the wall behind Chris reads 7:40pm and you should've been home an hour ago but right now, Chris is intent on helping you clean up. Brushing a soft clean handkerchief that he pulled from his pocket over your sensitive core sending jolts throughout your body and his sly smile says how much he's enjoying himself.

“I think you're enjoying yourself too much Mr. Bang.” You tease watching his hands between your legs. He chuckles and looks up at you, stuffing the cloth back into his pocket along with your shredded thong when he's done and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“I enjoy myself plenty around you y/n if you haven't noticed. I'm sure I'll enjoy myself even more. Meet me in the parking garage tomorrow after work?” He asks and you nod. “Sweet then I'll see you then.” With a wink he leaves you alone in the break room blinking and shaking your head with a small laugh.

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

With a groan, your body sags against your front door soon as you step foot into your apartment. Kicking your heels off you watch as they clatter and go skidding across the hardwood floor. You're in need of a hot shower, it's been too long of an evening for you on top of work and Chris cornering you in the break room. Never in your wildest fantasies did you think you'd be doing something like this. All because you fucked your boss in a crowded subway car.

You shake your head at the memory of the moment he showed a glimpse of who he truly was that day. He knew you worked for him before he even made a move. That didn't stop him and as you walk further into your apartment you wonder if he'll regret anything in the long run. Lost in thought you're oblivious to the large shadowy figure standing inside the dark bathroom waiting for you to walk past.

Soon as you're past the open door the figure emerges and a hand goes around your mouth while the other traps both of your wrists, holding them behind your back. The screams you let out are muffled as you try to shake free but it's useless. Whoever has you is strong and they're not letting go. Your only option left is to fight. Fight to win just like your friend Minho taught you. As you raise your leg, intending to kick it back, a dark whisper against your ear stops you cold.

“I wouldn't do that y/n.” Says the voice, raspy and deep.

Your eyes go round at the sound of your name like that. It's full of such anger and venom. It turns your blood icy.

“Fucker! Let… Go.” You mumble loudly but it just sounds like, “Mm! Mmpf.. mmm.”

Your captor laughs darkly behind you and holds you tighter making you groan uncomfortably by their strength. “I'm loving these noises that you're making y/n. Is this all it took in order for me to hear you sound like this? Shit, baby.”

You roll your eyes and when you smile, the man lets your mouth free to speak, “Jisungie baby, I always sound like this for you.”

Your boyfriend Jisung chuckles and licks your neck right over the hickey that Chris gave you last week. The color has faded some but Jisung will just bite and suck the same area to make it come back.

“That's my lovely baby. You're going to be loud for me aren't you jagi?” He asks, still buried in the crook of your neck. “I need you baby. Need you so bad. Need to remind you whose pussy this is. God it's always so hot watching another guy enjoy what's mine.” You feel him smirk on your neck.

That damn smirk. You almost said fuck it that day in the subway train car when he looked at you like that. That smirk always makes you wet. It's so cocky, so confident, so… Jisung. This game the two of you have, has been going on for so long you never know when it starts and ends or if it actually ends for that matter. The plan is always the same, pick up a guy at the bar and bring him back home where Jisung sits in the shadows to watch you get your back blown out. Afterwards he fucks you even harder than the guy did all with the warm cum of another man still inside you. It's a win-win you think. You like being watched and Jisung loves to watch. But that night you ran into Chris was a pure accident. Since it was the middle of the week the bar was dead. Boredom muddled your mind and when you saw that your boyfriend was behind you, you had the brilliant idea of playing cat and mouse. You just didn't expect to get fucked in public let alone to be fucked by your boss.

“I'm relentless, am I now? hm? That's what you told him that day right lovely? Hm?” He hums against your neck before biting down over the mark making you gasp that soon transitions into moan trailing off into silence. He sucks down hard and when your body turns to liquid he's picking you up and taking you into the bedroom you share.

“Yes…” You hedge and he smirks again before kissing you rough.

“Mmm gonna show your pussy just how relentless I really am. Do you still feel his cum inside of you my love?” Jisung questions you sweetly. You told him about why you were late when you got into your car to drive home. He was mad he didn't get to watch but you knew he'd be waiting at home, hard and in need of your sore pussy. When you nod he bites his lips. “Fuck.”

He tosses you onto the bed and is on top of you before your body can stop bouncing. His hands roam all over your body like he hasn't memorized every inch of it over the past 4 years you've been together. Jisung undresses you, tossing your clothes into the open closet. When he sits up to take his shirt off you catch him off guard by biting his left pec. His legs shake and his arms fly around you.

“Again jagi.” He demands, twisting around and falling back onto the bed with you on top.

His chest is littered in bite marks and his erection is now too painful for him to handle. You take care of him, removing his baggy black acid wash jeans. Your aim isn't as good as his and when you toss them over your shoulder they hit the wall. You both laugh at your clumsiness and his eyes are so full of love. You love your boyfriend, never once has any man you've slept with threatened the bond you two have. Jisung has never been jealous even when you're arching your back and moaning while someone else fucks you senseless. Because he knows that this is where you always end up in his arms.

When you take his cock into your hands still smiling wide while lining him up with your entrance, he caresses your body and whispers, “I love you my baby.”

With a smile that grows as well as your arousal you sink down taking every inch of him and moan, “I love you too Jisung.”

You ride him until your legs wobble, two orgasms in and he still isn't ready to let you go. He wasn't kidding when he told you he'd show just how relentless he is. Flipping you over onto your back he fucks two more orgasms from you and only then does he cum. Claiming your body and heart as his. Neither of you plan on moving from where you are, too spent to lift your heads off the pillow. But after a quick nap your activities resume. Following into the shower, to the kitchen and back into the bedroom until late in the night.

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

“I don't know Ji, should we really keep this going? He's my boss, this is different than some rando in a bar babe.” You sigh, holding your phone in your hand.

Today was your off day but Chris got your number from your file at work and texted you wondering if you were still down to meet up. You were having second thoughts about the whole game now. This could get really messy if it starts conflicting with work. Jisung walks over to where you stand in the kitchen and wraps you in his arms.

“What is it baby? Are you afraid I'll get upset? Why would I when I know that the only one that can fuck you right is me.” He gives you a cocky grin and kisses your forehead. When he looks at you again he's got a serious expression on his face. “If things get to be too much we'll stop, baby. I promise.”

You nod, still feeling a little indecisive but not wanting to worry Jisung. He needs all his focus on this song he's writing for a big client of his. Some guy named Seungmin, who's a pretty big deal you've been told. It's just nerves you tell yourself. You're just nervous since Jisung won't be around like he normally is. It's definitely not because you're worried about how Chris makes you feel.

“Come straight home after you leave his place baby. I'll miss you if you stay too long.” He pouts a little, making you smile.

“You know I hate being away from you for too long, Ji.” You tell him before leaving the apartment.

>

The whole drive to the parking garage of CBO your heart would not stop racing and your hands, sweaty on the steering wheel, began to shake when you pulled into the dim garage.

Get a hold of yourself y/n, shit. If Ji isn't worried then no reason I should be right?

Your little pep talk in the car is cut short when you see Chris walking out of the elevator looking hot in a plain black tee and black jeans. Your heart skips a beat and you force yourself to move. When he spots you stepping out of your car his reaction to you wearing a white tank top and denim jeans is just about the same as yours only he becomes instantly erect at the sight of you.

“Sup gorgeous?” He greets you, putting his hands in the front pocket of his jeans, giving you a cheeky lopsided grin.

You giggle and feel yourself relaxing at how casual he looks and talks to you. “Sup yourself Chris.”

“Come on let's get out of here before I fuck you in the backseat of my car. I don't think I can keep my hands to myself seeing you looking like that.”

He walks in the direction of his car and you mutter under your breath, “Feeling's mutual Bang.” Too quiet for him to hear.

Twenty minutes later you're underneath him, a whining begging mess, tied up to his bed and overstimulated beyond your limits just like he's dreamt about. He's brought you to the brink of cumming so many times you've lost count. You're not even sure how long you've been in this bed, you're only aware of the sounds that Chris conjures up from you and the satisfied moans of his that follow.

"Please Chris.” You whimper when he pulls his cock out for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Mm! Please let me cum. Please, please.” He looks down at you with bedroom eyes and trails a hand down the length of your body.

“Nah, don't wanna. Ceebs baby. Think I'll just leave you like this.” His smile spreads ear to ear when you widen your eyes and he starts laughing, throwing his head back. “I'm just kidding, beautiful but you should've seen your face.”

He comes plowing into your cunt with so much force that the headboard bumps the wall and you're screaming out his name. Chris smirks with each long quick stroke inside of you, getting just what he wanted. For you to lose control and let go. He needs to hear his name being spilled out from your soft lips that he can't stop kissing as if you were his girl. The way your body shivers when he grinds his pelvis hard over your clit makes him fuck you even harder with possessive primal moaning growls.

“Call me baby.” He demands out of nowhere gasping and kneading your breast in his hands as he looks down at you.

Without thinking you do it. It's impossible to not get swept up in the heat of the moment, to do any thinking of your own right now. So you call him baby. Over and over you say the name and watch as it has a physical reaction to him. Like a button that's been pressed Chris puts his all into fucking you.

“That's it baby girl. Sounds like heaven from your lips. Fuck, ah! Gonna cum y/n. Cum with me yeah? You're gonna cum with me. Yeah, yeah like that.” He sucks in air between his teeth slowly before gritting them. His jaw muscle flexes and you feel his cum spraying inside of you just as your own orgasm bursts through you.

It felt so good to Chris. To have you in his home, in his bed. It felt… right. Felt even better having all of you to himself. He only kept edging you simply because he didn't want the night to end so early. He knew you'd leave his side soon. When he finally drove you back to your car it was like torture to him. He couldn't pull away from you and ended up fucking you in the back seat of his car.

By the time you get home, poor Jisung doesn't know what hit him. You're on him as soon as you walk in the door. Sex drive still high, cunt still needy and the guilt of calling another man baby simmering inside you. Although Jisung doesn't complain, he feels this sudden odd feeling begin to gnaw at him. He's never felt this type of emotion. It's strange and foreign to him it's starting to piss him off but he bites the feeling down, pulling you closer to him suddenly afraid of letting you go.

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

The difference between Jisung and Chris is like being struck by lightning from both sides. No bolt is the same but you'll still burn from the inside out. With Jisung his moans when he fully lets himself go are whiny, desperate, needy just like your own and the random grunts and growls here and there when his orgasm builds always echo in your mind pushing you to reach your own peak. It's like diving off a cliff into the ocean, it swallows you up. Chris, he talks a lot more, praises you through gritted teeth with a low feral growl at the end of almost every sentence. He's the epitome of alpha male commanding your body to experience an earth shattering mind altering orgasm with a single word.

And night after night Chris commands your body. You return home to Jisung after spending a few long hours with Chris after work and you never get back home in one piece. Not without some new mark on you. Whether it's from his mouth or the pretty white ribbons he ties your wrists and ankles with, there's something. Ji always covers them up with his own markings with a growl and claim to you. “Mine. Naekkeo.” Jisung will moan, filling you up as many times as he can.

Tonight will be no different when you go home. You're currently tied up in Chris's bed with his tongue buried in your cunt as you cum with so much force you pull hard on your restraints not caring that they dig into your skin. You hear Chris laughing, feeling his breath breeze against you all while your legs are shaking on his shoulders.

“That's my girl. You're so delicious y/n. Shall I have another go? I'm still hungry.” He says, with amusement in his voice, raising his head and licking his lips.

“Chris please. I can't… that was the fifth orgasm you've given me with just your mouth. I'm too sensitive and far too out of breath. Let's call it a night please?” You beg in-between your panting breaths.

“Only because you said please and you look so cute like that. Why don't you stay the night babe hm?” Chris smiles down at you, freeing your hands from his headboard.

“I can't, I mean… remember I told you I don't feel comfortable.” You stutter rubbing your wrist looking down at the bright red line that goes all the way around.

“Right. My bad angel, no worries. I'm sure I'll wake up to your beautiful face soon.” He winks smiling like he's got some juicy secret that only he knows about. “Need a ride?”

Shaking your head you look up at him, “It's okay I drove.” You reply smiling sweetly and once you're dressed and not walking like a newborn fawn, he kisses you on the head and walks you out of large home.

When you get home you barely have it in you to take a shower. Every step you took, you could still feel Chris's mouth. His hot tongue, his beautiful lips sucking your clit. You're still too sensitive and it's a beautiful torture. As soon as you're out of the shower you fall into the bed with Jisung right behind you sliding up to you cock out and hard but you're too tired. You feel bad about leaving him to take care of himself.

“I'm sorry baby he spent two hours eating me out and I'm so tired.” You tell Jisung groggily and he pouts, taking your hands in his, kissing your wrists.

“That fucker.” He mutters under his breath angrily. He's upset but not with you. “It's okay though sweetie, you sleep.” He rubs his nose over yours and kisses your lips making you smile.

“I love you Sungie.” You mumble before drifting off to sleep peacefully.

Waking up is anything but peaceful though. Jisung is pissed and shuffling around the house pouting with his brows furrowed and a dark aura around him like some anime villain.

“Baby?” You say and there's silence. “Ji?” Still nothing. “My Han and only?” That does it and he cracks a smile while shoving instant ramen in his mouth, pointing his chopsticks to the plate of breakfast he made you. “What's the matter Hannie?”

He chews still pouting and you can't help but smile at him. His cheeks puff out when he gets like this but you know after breakfast he'll fuck you in the kitchen and he'll be okay.

“That fucker Bang.” He grumbles.

“I'm sorry about last night, baby.” You say taking a bite of watermelon.

“He's been keeping you later every time for the past two weeks and when you get home you're so sore that I wonder if I'm hurting you or we can't do anything at all. I haven't fucked you in two days. Don't go today, baby. Stay with me.” He confesses and you get up to sit on his knee.

“Of course I'll stay baby. You know if you don't want me to go that's all you have to say. I'll text Chris later and let him know.” Jisung nods and nuzzles your chest with his cheek like a cat.

“Sweetie… you don't like fucking him better than me do you?” Jisung asks, suddenly making your heart crack.

“Of course not baby. Why would you even think that?”

“I… uh. You were talking in your sleep last night and moaned his name.” He says.

Oh so that's why he's so mad… Now you're the one pouting.

“Never baby. I'm sorry for my brain. You know it has a mind of its own.” You say and he laughs hugging you tight. “You're going to make me do more than moan your name aren't you Sungie?”

“Mmm lovely you know I am.”

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

Breakfast long forgotten Jisung has you bent over the table staring into your reflection of the closet door across from you. Its surface is a mirror from ceiling to floor and you can see the pure desire on his face from behind you.

“Fuck.” He whispers, rubbing your ass in a circle after smacking hard and chuckles when you give it a shake. “I want you to watch me fuck you.” He tells you low and tender.

He slides his cock into you with a groan, throwing his head back before looking at your reflection. He loves seeing your cheeks turn pink from pleasure, loves how your lips poke out making him wish there was two of him so you can wrap your lips around his cock while he fucks you like this. He starts moving and you grip the side of the table hard with a gasp. You're sore still but you both love it when your swollen like this. You have a feeling this'll be a quickie but your boyfriend will worship and cherish your body all day long, making up for the two days he didn't have you.

“Gotta fuck his cum outta my sweet lovely baby.” Jisung says picking up speed. He groans along with you when you push back into him meeting his thrust.

“Jisung!” You gasp and he chuckles behind you.

“See how you look baby? You see why I can't ever get enough of you huh? I really needed this. Needed you, y/n baby” Jisung slaps your ass and then rubs his hand over the redness.

He repeats the move again each time he rams his cock into you. Over again until you're falling flat onto the table and letting out a long groaning moan and cumming around him.

“Yes.” He whispers, extending the word before he loses his ability to say anything more.

He's fucking you just as hard as Chris does all while moaning uncontrollably, breathing heavily and digging his fingers into ass as he grips it tight. God you love the sounds he makes. He's always been the noisiest man you've ever slept with, never shying away or holding back and you found that to be the sexiest thing ever. What started as a one night stand between you and Jisung years ago became what you have today. Four amazing years.

“Oh? My baby's gonna cum again. Hm? Hm baby? Oh God. Fuck y/n. Yeah rub your clit just like that. Gonna fill you now baby.” Jisung grunts, pulling you back into him as he thrusts forward three final times, feeling you reach another climax before throwing his head back, freezing and spilling his cum inside you.

That's how your day goes with Jisung. Spoiling you not just with sex but love. Deep inside you know it's because he feels like he has to do better than Chris, be better than your CEO boss but he doesn't need to do any of that. Can't tell him that though. Once he sets his mind to something, he sees through it till the end.

With Jisung on the phone with his client Seungmin, going over the song he wrote for him, you decide to message Chris and let him know you won't be able to come over tonight before doing some light chores. Ding! Your phone notification goes off from the coffee table while you wash dishes in the kitchen.

“Ji baby, could you check that for me please? It's probably Chris. I let him know I wouldn't be coming tonight.” You call over your shoulder. It's nothing new, you two always check each other's phone whenever the other has their hands full. However this is the first time a message has actually angered someone in the relationship.

Jisung scoffs staring down at your phone, feeling the rage and jealousy build up inside of him. He's seeing red at the short text message in front of him. The room is quiet and you're unaware of all the sudden anger that's seeping out of Jisung but inside of him is so loud.

“No worries, my baby. If you need me you know who to call.” He spits out in a mocking tone making you turn around in shock.

You've never heard him like this. You watch Jisung pace the floor grabbing his hair in his hands and you quickly go to him. Placing a damp hand on his shoulder carefully, he looks at you and you finally see it. Past the anger in his eyes there's uncertainty. He really is worried about losing you. Worried that your boss is trying to take you away from him and it's been eating him up inside silently but for how long? Why couldn't you see it before? Why didn't he just tell you that was how he was feeling? Communication, that's what you two always lived by.

“Sungie baby…” You whisper.

“Who does he think he is huh? Your boyfriend? No. I am. You're not his. You're mine.” He kisses you roughly before you can speak.

You moan against his mouth when he slips his hand over and under the band of your leggings and finds that you're not wearing any panties like you normally do at home. He growls and bites your bottom lip before plunging two fingers inside.

“This pussy is mine, it won't ever belong to another. Isn't that right sweetie?” He asks, breathing heavily like he's just ran a marathon.

“Yes baby, all yours. Only yours.” You breathe, legs shaking as he fingers you and kisses you hard again.

That night Jisung fucked you harder than ever. It was like he was a possessed man, it wasn't him but you'd never admit that you loved it.

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

Though he was still feeling a little jealous, Jisung still encouraged you to go to Chris's but this time he'd go with you and wait in the car. That's why you're tied up and blindfolded in Chris's room on your knees in front of him. You can hear his feet shuffling around but you just assume he's cleaning up after he filled your throat with every inch of him, fucking your throat until he came. He's been pretty easy on you tonight. You're not sore and the ribbons don't pinch so much.

“So babe, did you miss me?” He asks, coming to stand in front of you.

“I did.” You answer honestly.

“Yeah baby?” He purrs and you feel him get down to your level. “Did your boyfriend fuck you good the other night?”

Your mouth pops open comedically and Chris laughs kissing you on your head. A thousand thoughts flood your mind, jumbled and frantic.

“Yeah, I know about Jisung beautiful. When I ran a background check on ya he popped up. I've known ever since that day after we met. He's a great songwriter at the company. Pops was right to hire him.” He confesses and you're too stunned to speak but he's not quite done.

“What surprised me though was that the so-called creep following you that day was your boyfriend. It's a fun game you two play, so I'll go along with it for however long you want.” He stands up, lovingly caressing your head. “Because I know that despite you going home to someone else, it's my cock that you're thinking of and lusting for.”

He fucks your mouth again but denys you when you ask if he's going to fuck you now. Instead he unties you and reminds you that your boyfriend is waiting for you in the car. You're fuming when you get into the car. Jisung doesn't quite know how to handle the situation at the moment, not while he's driving. It's not until you're home that he takes care of you once you're both home in bed. Laying in bed post climax, Jisung has the most ridiculous idea that's ever come out of his mouth and he's said some crazy things before.

“How about a friendly competition between men? Chris and I take you together and see who's the better man. You know, just for fun.” He smirks to himself laying on his arm and looking up at the ceiling. “If he can't handle it, then game over Christopher.” He says and laughs at himself before rolling over and burying his face in your tits.

“Uh, yeah... I don't know if he'll be down for that Hannie but if that's what you what I'll relay the message.” You reply and thread your fingers through his hair. "Just remember he's responsible for our paychecks."

You're certain Jisung is just joking or if he isn't he'll change his mind. Right? There's no way he'd go through with that idea but isn't that how this game you two have going on started? One crazy idea from the genius mind of Han Jisung. Could you handle it though? Having both men inside of you? The thought made you nervous and excited and honestly you were kind of hoping that Chris would agree. And to your surprise, he does. Now you're in a coffee shop talking about a threesome. How did your life get to this?

>

“You're a crazy man Han Jisung.” Chris says, leaning back in his chair. He's looking every bit of the CEO that he is in the small cafe that he agreed to meet you and Jisung at. There's an amused smile on his face as he takes a sip of his freshly pressed juice. “But you're on. Obviously this is just for shits and giggles. In the end whatever y/n wants goes.” He continues and smiles at you flashing his dimples.

“Of course what my baby wants goes. Anything to make my girlfriend happy.” Jisung responds, placing his arm over your shoulders possessively pulling you closer to him.

You sit in silence looking between both men amused and intrigued. The conversation shifts into one of more intimate topics: You. Specifically your body and who would be where inside of you. Your whole face and chest flush pink at how casual they talk. They actually seem to be getting along well when they comment on what you like and don't like. Both men know your body so well. Probably even better than you know yourself.

“So it's settled then. My place the day after tomorrow? Let's say… around 8.” Chris says looking pleased with himself. “I don't plan on losing so it may be a long night. I figure 8 will give you time to rest before princess.” He looks at you and winks before getting up from his seat to leave. “See you two then.”

When Chris is gone you turn to Jisung, doubt in your chest. You need to make sure he really wants this. This will get messy quickly if more jealousy seeps it's way back into the mix. You don't want to lose Jisung so you double and triple check with him on if this is really what he wants to do.

“Are you sure you wanna do this baby?” You question taking in your boyfriend's features as the sun from the large storefront window makes him glow radiantly. The brown in his eyes pop, looking like the cup of coffee in your hands.

“Lovely, I could ask you the same. Please don't do this if you don't want to. I know you love me naekkeo.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Don't feel like you have to do this for either me or Chris, okay?”

You smile and nod feeling your heart bloom in your chest. You hit the jackpot with Jisung. Have you gotten wealthier with Chris too?

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

The room is silent and a gentle breeze from Chris's open window stirs your hair around your shoulders. You didn't think you'd feel so nervous but you're shaking with anticipation as you're kneeling on Chris's large bed naked for both him and Jisung. Biting your lip, you sit up on your knees straddling Chris and wait as Jisung comes up behind you. Taking your hips he lubes your ass and his cock up, making things slippery so it's easier for him to enter you. Slowly he guides himself into you from behind all while kissing his way down the side of your neck, pausing to bite down gently on your shoulder. You're moaning and crying with pleasure once your boyfriend is fully inside of you. All the while Chris lays underneath you. Watching you and stroking his cock, caressing your left thigh with his fingers.

“You ready baby?” Jisung whispers behind you in your ear.

Your body reacts, shuddering around him and his groans are felt against your chest. You feel his cock pulsating inside of you and you feel desperate for movement. Nodding your head Jisung guides you down onto Chris who lines himself up with your entrance nice and slow. Excruciatingly slow. Just the tip of Chris's cock is inside of you and you're whining at the pinch and stretching sensation. Brief doubt that you can take them both bubbles up in your mind but you push it aside and keep pushing down taking the length of him in carefully.

When Chris pushes up helping you take the last remaining inches, your back arches and you cry out. Not from pain although you can feel that sting of being fully stretched but from pleasure once both men are fully sheathed inside of you. It's a strange blissful feeling, their cocks pressed tightly together with only the thin wall of your flesh between them. With Jisung taking your breasts in his hands, Chris sits up and guides the movements like the leader he is. It's just a natural thing and the three of you seem to fall into that unconsciously. Thrusting and moving your hips along with his guiding hands until a synchronized rhythm starts. It's slow at first, far too slow for you and it becomes hard for you to relax your muscles around each man.

“Fuck me.” You grind out, sweating and already breathless.

There's a shared moan between Jisung and Chris that vibrates through you and echoes in the quiet room. You don't give them a chance to respond, you're moving for them, taking over the pace. Fuck does it amazing, that fullness. Your orgasm is quick and you're groaning and writhing with pleasure cumming hard.

Your head falls back, landing on Jisung's shoulder while he still keeps his push and pull in and out of your ass all while you cum around Chris's cock. His thrusts force your body to continuously rock against him, heightening the sensation and pleasure all together. Chris grunts and fights back to urge to cum with you, determined not to lose against Jisung. Both men, stubborn as hell would gladly fuck you all night long trying to last longer than the other but you're not sure how much longer you can keep up. Your legs would've given out long ago if you weren't held up by Jisung's arms as he cradles you, pumping his cock into you.

“Fuck, I can feel everything baby. God keep cumming. More baby.” Jisung groans in your ear, coaxing you.

Your whimpers make both Chris and Jisung feel absolutely insane. Chris in particular is struggling watching your face. How your features contort beautifully with each synchronized thrust, it's like seeing the stars for the first time to him. He feels his balls tighten and he knows that he'll lose as soon as you cum around him again. You're already babbling incoherently but it becomes even more crazed and hard to understand when Chris places a firm thumb over your clit. Your whole body tenses up and both men curse and grunt in harmony and it's such a beautiful sound.

“Mm y/n. Shit, shit that's a good girl. You're close baby girl. That's right cum on my cock again.” Chris whispers and bucks his hips up off the bed causing both his and Jisung's cock to ram up harshly inside you.

“Ah, fuck!” You cry loudly holding onto Jisung's arms and clawing at him. Legs shaking, eyes rolling in the back of your head and with a strange tortured groan your second orgasm erupts from within you.

It's too much for them, you feel so much tighter than before and their own orgasm happens with no warning. Both your cunt and ass are being filled at the same time and the feeling is phenomenal.

“Ah! fuck naekkeo… F-fuck me!” Jisung groans and the sound shortly turns into a long winded whine.

“Oh shit y/n fuck. So beautiful, so fuuucking beautiful.” Chris breathes and growls, thrusting upwards more. “Yeah that's- mm! That's it baby.”

Fuck a bet you need to experience this everyday. Is this what addiction feels like? They're still inside of you, cocks softening while slowly dribbling the last drops of cum into your sore and stretched holes but you want them to fill you up even more. As completely fucked out of your mind you are, you still don't want to move from where you are. Two pairs of hands caress your body, relaxing you after the intense full body orgasm you just had. You feel so loved and taken care of. It's an overwhelming feeling and a tear falls from your eye and down the side of your face onto Jisung's shoulders.

“Sweetie? What's wrong, does it hurt? Here I'll pull out first slowly.” Jisung says worried voice tender and full of concern.

Once he's out and moving to stand beside the bed he picks you up, pulling you off of Chris's lap and gently lays you down beside the man who's looking at you wide eyed and terrified that he might've hurt you.

“Y/n babe, where does it hurt? Tell us beautiful. Please?” Chris pleads when you start fully crying.

Shaking your head and covering your face you take a deep breath trying to calm down. “I'm sorry boys, I'm okay. I'm not hurt, I'm just… fuck. That was just amazing. I felt so overwhelmed and I don't want this,” you wave your arms around gesturing to the three of you. “To end because the bet is over. I also feel like shit for wanting that but…” you trail off looking up at the ceiling laying on top of black silk sheets.

The room is silent and when you close your eyes you feel Jisung slide into bed on your other side. For a minute, the three of you just lay there listening to the cars drive past outside through the open window. You don't open your eyes until you hear laughter on either side of you.

“What's so funny?!” You say turning your head back and forth to look at Chris and Jisung.

“Oh my gosh she's so cute. You're a lucky man Jisung.” Chris says, wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“Thanks bro. That she is.” Your boyfriend says and you sit up suddenly wincing at the soreness.

“Okay not that I'm complaining but where the hell did this sudden bromance come from?” You question, which only makes them laugh even more. Crossing your arms you pout and wait for their laughing to subside.

“My baby, my angel, my lovely... We're two men who only want to make you happy and cherish you from head to toe,” Jisung kisses your shoulder when he sits up. “How could all that not have been a bonding moment between all of us? I'm down to do whatever makes my baby happy.

“Yeah, no worries gorgeous. I mean granted we… ya know, work out a better routine or something, this arrangement can work out I think.” Chris agrees and takes your hand in his playing with your fingers.

You're touched that they care so much about you to even agree with what you want let alone agree so quickly. Could this three person situation actually work though? Or have you just made things a whole lot messier for yourself?

••••••••••••••••One Month Later•••••••••••••••

“Babe! Could you tell Ji his client wants to run a few ideas for the song when you get back to CBO please? I've got to go to a meeting in a bit.” You hear Chris call out to you from the shower.

Walking into the steamy room you see his body fully submerged under the spray of the water. You try to scare him but he's fully aware of your presence outside of the glass and he opens one eye in your direction smiling at you.

“Can you also tell him that I can't keep wiping the cameras so you two can fuck in the stairwells. Poor security guard had a front row show last week. I'm still jealous.”

Giggling you lean towards him past the open glass for a kiss that he returns with a groan. “Fuck y/n you know what your laugh and those lips do to me. Keep it up and we won't get any work done and Jisung will be pouty all day.”

“My bad babe, you just look so good wet.” You giggle again and now he's pulling you into the shower with him fully clothed.

You squeal when the warm water soaks the flowy white summer skater dress you had just put on and Chris's mouth is on your neck lapping up the water and nibbling your flesh. His hands are quick lifting the dress up and over your head letting it fall to the tiles in a loud splat just outside the door. His cock is inside of you before your hair is even fully saturated with water. The loud wet sounds and your moans echo throughout the bathroom as Chris holds one of your legs up and fucks you up against the shower wall. Your hands slip and slide over his bare back feeling every muscle shift with his movements.

You let out a loud moan when you hear the door creak open to a heavy lidded Jisung in a black blazer, white tee and jeans, standing there looking into your eyes and watching his girlfriend get fucked by another man. He slowly grins and saunters into the room, eyes still on you until he reaches the counter. There, he continues to watch you, watch Chris's cock quickly slip in and out of your cunt. His grin grows when you struggle to keep your eyes on him and the flush to your cheeks deepen. When you reach your hand out to him he shakes his head and chuckles deep.

“Take his dick like a good girl, lovely. I'm a patient man. I'll fuck you after until your body is dry and your pussy is dripping on my cock.” Jisung says and you feel Chris laugh while he sucks down hard on your breast.

Jisung rubs his hard cock over his pants and your cunt locks down around Chris's length making you both breathe out a soft moan.

“Fuck Sungie.” You whine with a pout, reaching out to him again but he won't be swayed that easy. He's used to waiting his turn while watching you.

“No, no naekkeo I'm not here remember.” He says sitting up on the counter next to the sink, getting comfortable.

Chris begins to thrust into you harder, taking your other leg and wrapping it around his hips. “Mmm, you heard the man baby. Take my cock so he can fuck my cum out of you when I'm gone.”

Chris's words make you shiver all over and you lean your head back onto the wall behind you giving in to the sensations Chris's cock and Jisung's eyes give you. Some days they take turns, some days they share you together but in the end both men would have worshiped your body inside and out. It's been a month now having this strange relationship with your two boyfriends and your heart isn't the only thing that feels full everyday. Sometimes messy isn't always a bad thing.

@resi4skz, @msauthor @thesarcasmqueen-22 @skzworldx @turtledove824 @jisungsbammey @brojustfknkillm3 @rixenluv @cookiesnmilfx @tirena1 @redlikemysoul

[gsweazel]

your work is so beautiful!! can you share a little bit about your process when working with gouache and india ink?

thank you so much! and of course I can!!!

it’s a long one…details below!

I use gouache just because it’s what I have to hand, but watercolour would work well, if not better.

I start with a sketch, then a wash of the blue, covering the whole page - it can be messy because most of it will be covered with the black ink. at this point I like to go over the shapes with the blue just to vaguely define the forms.

I like to start with the darkest areas! usually this is around the studs, or the ‘seams’ (if there are technical names pls let me know 🙏). I try not to focus on one area too much at once just to keep everything proportional and remind myself of the overall form! India ink is fab because it dries so quickly, and as far as I’m aware it doesn’t lift once dried, so I can go over the fine details to add reflections and shading! when I do the shading, I treat the ink like watercolour - I dilute it heavily, going from light to dark. you can always add more pigment later!

I always forget to take photos as I go along, but hopefully this kind of illustrates what I’m yapping about

I was very silly and forgot to take my brushes with me to uni… buuuut from memory, I think it’s a ‘round’ brush? it can carry a lot of ink but tapers to a very fine point at the end, allowing for the teeny tiny details on the armour, as well as the larger washes of pigment. this is a4 paper for scale (I think that’s around 8.5 x 11 inches!) I use a bigger round brush for bigger areas! I also loosely sketch out the details in pencil before painting but the drawing is usually more ambitious than what I can realistically achieve at this scale - the squiggly lines were the hardest! I tended to depart from the reference at this point and make up some organic shapes. basically the smaller scale means it’s no biggie if you do make a mistake!

I use bristol paper - super smooth surface that holds the ink really well!

it’s a little different for my first knight though (below)! still started with the blue gouache wash, but I used fine liner pen. I think it’s either 0.5 or 0.3 - leaning towards the latter just because of the smaller details! this is a less forgiving medium imo, but super satisfying. I used black gouache to fill in the background for this one - I didn’t have any inks at this point. I’m working on a5 paper here in a moleskine notebook, so it wasn’t really meant to be damp.

also I am still bad at taking photos of my art - but I am getting better! I scanned the painting, then adjusted the shadows (just using the photos app). literally the only edit is turning ‘shadows’ down to -100, but you can see how much of a difference this makes! I’m including this because it’s always so disheartening when the camera doesn’t pick up the artwork properly. something I struggle with when using ink is getting an even surface with large areas of undiluted black, which is why I tend to adjust the contrast. if anyone has any tips on this I would appreciate it!

apologies for the very long post - if there’s anything else I can clarify please let me know!! I’m quite new to tumblr so sorry if the formatting of this post is a little off.

unfortunately I have just gone back to university, so it will probably be a while before I have some art to post - I also left all my art supplies at home… whoops! maybe this is a chance to improve my digital art!!

and thank you so so much for all the notes on my previous post! I read every tag on reblogs and they always make my day <3