#and i've been working too much to have responded in a timely manner

[ariestrxsh]

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 content warning: smut, an insane amount of teasing, dirty talk, praise, sexual touching, masturbation, oral (f!receiving), mentions of sex, power play, switch!chris, switch!matt, switch!reader

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 summary: matt and chris decide to participate in no nut november. the competition gets even more interesting when you get involved, making a bet with the two boys about who can last the longest while you're actively working against them.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 this fic was inspired/requested by this ask, and this ask, and the song/title was requested by this ask 🤍

love potions

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day One

"Oh, come on. You guys aren't seriously participating in that stupid trend, are you?" You scoffed after you'd walked in on Matt and Chris talking about their latest competition. "It's not just a trend. It's like a sexual reset," Matt said to you in a serious tone.

"Oh. Okay. I still think it's stupid. Why would you want to torture yourselves for a whole month?" You shrugged. "It's like a test of willpower and whoever makes it longer without needing to nut wins No Nut November," Chris explained.

"What do you win?" You wondered, looking between the two of them. "You're just the winner," Matt shrugged. You rolled your eyes. "And what are the rules?" You inquired, wanting to hear more. "No sex, no masturbation, and you can't do anything to make yourself cum," Chris replied.

"That's crazy. If the regulations are going to be that strict, I think you boys both need a little incentive," you smirked at them. They both glanced at each other and back at you. "What do you suggest?" Matt wondered aloud. "How about whichever one of you loses has to watch the winner fuck me, hmm? Don't you think that'd make it a little more interesting?" You proposed.

"Incentive? That sounds like a punishment," Matt replied, lifting his brows in a shocked manner. "Only if you lose," Chris teased him with a smug smile plastered on his face. "Punishment, reward. Same thing. Same desired outcome," you sneered at them.

"I think that would really help incentivize me," Chris eagerly nodded at you. "Can we both just rub one out real quick and start right after that?" Matt asked, biting his lip. "No, Matt. November has already started," you smirked at him.

"Okay, so the winner of No Nut November gets to use me however they want, and the loser has to watch. But I have a few rules of my own I'd like to instill. You guys both have to make it at least two weeks. If the loser caves on week one, the bet's off, and no one gets to use me. Also, I get to tease you guys as much as I want," your lips curled into a malicious grin.

"That's not fair," Matt glared at you. "Sure it is, Matt. If I'm the reward, don't you think it's only fair that I get to put in place some rules of my own?" You raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms. "Okay, fine," Matt huffed, rolling his eyes. "You boys are really in for it. I've been extra horny lately," you said in a luscious voice, looking them both up and down.

"What if we both go the whole month without breaking any rules?" Chris asked. "Then you can both tag team me," you smirked, glancing between the two of them. They both eagerly nodded at the sound of that.

"And what if we both lose at the same time?" Matt asked curiously. "Then I get to use you two however I want, and I get to humiliate you while you finish," you responded, putting your hand over your mouth to hold back a chuckle.

"Oh, don't tell Matt that. He'll like that too much," Chris teased his brother. Matt punched him in the arm. "Ow!" Chris shot back, rubbing his arm. You were already planning all the different ways you were going to try to seduce them and make them slip up.

"I'm going to go run some errands. I'll be right back," you teasingly waved at them both before strutting out the door. "Whoops," you said, purposely dropping your keys so you'd have an excuse to bend down in front of them.

Unfortunately for them, you were wearing your favorite pair of jeans that hugged all your curves perfectly, and as you accentuated your movements while you bent at the waist to fetch them from off the floor, Chris and Matt's eyes immediately traveled to your bottom.

Then they both glanced at each other, exchanging a look. It dawned on them that they may be in over their heads. You waltzed out the front door on your way to buy a new lingerie set along with some other things to tease them with.

A few hours later, you came back in with a few shopping bags in hand. "What did you get?" Matt wondered, peeking into the bag. He caught a glimpse of white lace before you yanked them away from him. "You'll find out," you told him, tucking them out of sight and wondering off to go plan your strategy.

You had a few tricks up your sleeve, but you couldn't just whip out your craziest idea in the first week. Your tactic was to keep it playful at the beginning, just little touches that would linger a few seconds too long and subtle comments here and there to fluster them.

Over time, you'd slowly work your way towards the more overt seduction after they'd let their guards down.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Two

Throughout the day, you kept finding reasons to lightly and sensually touch both boys. You'd playfully hit Chris in his well-toned bicep when he'd say anything funny, and afterward, you'd make some comment to puff up his ego.

"You been working out? Your muscles look so hot lately," you said to him in a sexy voice, your eyes dancing over his lips while you spoke to him as you squeezed his upper arm. "You're gonna have to try harder than that," Chris arrogantly stated, well-aware of what you were doing.

Later on, you went up to Matt after spritzing yourself with a new perfume you'd gotten recently. "Hey, Matt. I want to get your opinion on this fragrance," you innocently told him, holding a lot of eye contact.

You tilted your head up, and he leaned down to smell where you had sprayed it just above your collarbone. Notes of jasmine and lavender filled his senses.

"Mmm. It smells nice," he commented. "No, you're not close enough," you responded, running your fingers through his hair and reeling him in nearer to you until his nose was resting against your neck.

"What do you think? If we were on a date and I wore this scent, would you take me back to your place and fuck my brains out?" You seductively asked him, gently massaging his scalp with your fingertips.

"Shit," Matt muttered, blood started rushing to the tip of his cock as he pulled away from you. "Nice try," he said, leaving the room.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Five

You decided to ramp it up just a little bit. Throughout the day, you kept purposely dropping things so you could bend over and show off the little thong you wore under your miniskirt.

They couldn't help but fall for it every time, even though they knew you were doing it for the sole purpose of riling them up. You loved witnessing the desperation slowly creep into their expressions while you taunted them. You held a lot of eye contact while talking to them, purposely staring at their lips a lot and licking your own while you watched them become nervous.

That night, Chris was in his room, sitting shirtless in his gaming chair and playing a video game when you came into the room and started rubbing his shoulders for him. "Mmm. You're so tense," you stated, working through a knot on his shoulder blade. "Gee, I wonder why," Chris chuckled.

He let out a soft, satisfied groan as you massaged his back for him, making sure to whisper praises in his ear. "I bet you're so sore because you've been hitting the gym so much, huh? It really shows. Your back looks so toned right now," You cooed.

"What else am I going to do with myself?" He smirked, knowing he'd been working out every day since November started to fend off his sex drive. "I bet since you exercise a lot, you have good stamina, don't you? Bet you could fuck for a long time," you whispered in his ear. He responded with a loud scoff.

"I bet you're the kind of guy who likes to get off multiple times a day, don't you? So this must be extra hard for you. You're so disciplined for not caving yet. I could never do what you're doing. I swear, I'm horny all the time," you told him.

"I am disciplined," he reiterated. "So disciplined in fact that this doing nothing for me." But it was a lie. His dick was starting to perk up at your words and your tone of voice. "Mhmm," you said, unconvinced as you left the room to go tease Matt.

He was downstairs making brownies in the kitchen when you found him. "Have you been a good boy? Keeping your hands out of your pants, hmm?" You gave him a sly smile. He immediately met you with a needy look. Matt was a little more transparent than Chris, not quite as good at hiding how turned on he was.

"I've been good. Still going strong," He nodded at you while he stirred the brownie batter. "So well-behaved. Good boy," you said, your tone saturated with lust. Matt started to get a little hard at how you were speaking to him, but he tried to take his mind off you with chocolate.

"You should try this. It's really good," Matt said, dipping his finger into the brownie batter, but before he could get another taste, you gently grabbed onto his hand, and as he looked over to make eye contact with you, you were slipping his digit between your parted lips and sucking off the chocolate.

"Mmmm," you hummed with your mouth wrapped around his finger, subtly moving your head back and forth. His dick twitched in his sweatpants and he let out a soft whimper as you excited all the nerve endings on the tip of his finger.

"Maybe you're not such a good boy after all. I think you liked that a little too much," you taunted him, releasing his hand from your grip. It took everything in Matt not to run upstairs and go jerk off to the thought of your mouth on another one of his extremities. Instead, he went back to making brownies.

"You can't have any more until they're ready," he glared at you, trying to will away his erection.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Six

It was nearing the end of the first week, and you approached Chris early one morning as he was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal and flipping through his phone. "It's almost the end of week one. How do you feel?" You asked, coming up behind him.

You seductively ran your fingers along his chest, whispering into his ear and making sure your hot breath hit the side of his neck while you did. "I feel great. I haven't had any urges at all," Chris lied through his teeth, trying to ignore the way you were touching him.

"Oh really, hmm? Maybe I'm not teasing you enough," you chuckled into his ear, gently nibbling on his earlobe. He let out a soft moan and his cock immediately grew hard. "Not even a single urge, huh?" You provoked him, staring down at the tent in his pants while you started to kiss his neck.

"Fuck, you're making this so difficult," Chris got up and stormed off, leaving his cereal unfinished. "Better not be going to touch yourself!" You called after him.

"I'm not. I'm going to the gym to burn off some of this energy," Chris huffed, heading to his room to change into basketball shorts. You smirked at his arrogance he'd displayed a few minutes earlier before nearly folding under your touch.

Around this time, Matt came downstairs in his Pokémon pajamas and started rifling through the fridge for something to eat.

"Hey, handsome boy. How did you sleep?" You asked, gently caressing his arm and asking in a sultry voice. "Really good," he said, avoiding eye contact and trying to hide the fact that he had morning wood.

"I slept well, too. Except I had this dream that I can't stop thinking about," you seductively bit your lip. "What did you dream about?" Matt naively asked. "Well, I'm a little embarrassed to say, but it was a wet dream. About you," your eyes flicked up to meet his. "Really?" He asked, falling right into your trap.

"Yeah, you were making me scream your name because of how big your cock was and how hard you were fucking me," you teased him, painting a picture in his head. "Fuck. Please don't tell me anymore," Matt replied, still peering into the fridge.

"You mean, you don't wanna hear about how I played with myself after I woke up from it?" You simpered at him. Matt let out a loud sigh and pulled out a carton of eggs and some bacon while he ignored your temptress ways.

"You don't wanna hear about how I rubbed my clit in circles and filled my pretty, pink hole with my favorite dildo while I thought about you and moaned your name?" You snickered. "This is so unfair," Matt replied, covering his ears and looking at you with his desperate expression and his puppy dog eyes, his dick aching in his pants.

"If you think I'm being unfair now, you just wait," you responded before skipping off to go plan your next move.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Nine

A few days later, Chris came out into the living room to find you sprawled out on your yoga mat in a tank top and spandex shorts. "Oh, thank god you're here. Mind helping me with something really quick?" You innocently asked him, batting your eyelashes in his direction.

"Depends. What do you need?" Chris skeptically asked, narrowing his gaze. "Will you come over here and help stretch me out?" You requested, smirking at him as he grew flustered at your word choice. "Fuck this. You're on your own," Chris said, immediately walking the other direction.

"Chris! Wait!" You called after him. He stopped, let out a loud sigh, and slowly turned around. "What?" He asked impatiently. "Chris. I'm not trying to pull anything. I just really need your help. Please. My muscles are so sore," you begged, pouting at him.

After a few seconds of deliberating, he rolled his eyes and started heading back over towards you. "Fine. What do you need me to do?" Chris asked, kneeling down on the floor next to you and immediately regretting it when you spread open your legs.

"I need you to push my thighs apart," you told him, trying to conceal your condescending grin. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Chris snarked at you. "No, I'm not kidding. I'm really sore. Just put your hands on the insides of my thighs and push down," you directed him.

He did as you said, trying to ignore the damp spot on the front of your shorts. "Oh, Chris. You stretch me out so good," you maliciously moaned. He clenched his jaw as he glanced into your eyes. "I haven't cum in nine days," Chris responded.

If looks could kill, the look Chris was giving you right now was damn near fatal. "Nine days? Only twenty-one more to go!" You sneered, reminding him he wasn't even a third of the way there yet. "You fucking bitch," Chris dug his fingertips into the fleshy part of your inner thighs and started pushing them apart until you let out a pained whimper.

"Oh, Chris. Don't stop. I love when you're mean to me. It turns me on so much," you responded in a sultry voice, flipping his power move back onto him. He let go of you and stormed out of the room to go play video games and take his mind off what was between your legs.

About ten minutes later, Matt came downstairs, his eyes immediately falling onto you in a compromising stretching position. "Oh, Matt. I'm so glad you're here. Think you could give me a hand or two real quick?" You cooed, motioning with your finger for him to come here. Matt nodded despite the fact that he knew you were up to no good.

"What do you need?" He asked, eager to please you in any way. "Will you give me a little massage? My muscles right here are very sore," you motioned towards the muscles on your inner thighs while you bit your lip, peering up at him. "O-okay," Matt stuttered, walking into the next trap you set.

He couldn't help notice how wet you were, but he tried his best to ignore it. He kneeled down between your legs and started massaging where you had asked. You let your eyes roll back in your head and let out a few satisfied sounds as he worked his thumbs on each one of your fleshy thighs.

"That's it, Matt. Just like that," you whined in a sexual manner, causing his dick to twitch in his pants. "Go up just a little further," you said, guiding his hands closer to your pussy. He nodded, doing as you asked. "Good boy," you moaned as he rubbed that spot over and over again. His eyes shot wide open.

"Can you move up just a little further?" You wondered, batting your lashes. "I-I can't," Matt shook his head, knowing if he moved up any further, he'd be right on your private parts. "Here," you said, grabbing his hand and placing his thumb directly on your clit.

"There you go. Now move it in circles. A little more pressure. Oh, just like that. Good boy," you cooed, looking seductively at him. Matt knew it was a dangerous game for him to be touching you there, but he couldn't stop.

He loved the words and sounds that were falling from your lips. He loved the way you were looking at him with desire in your eyes and pleasure written all over your face.

"Faster," you whispered, throwing your head back. Your shorts were soaking wet where Matt was massaging you with his thumb, and your legs started to shake while your cries of delight became louder. Chris came downstairs to see what all the commotion was.

You started seeing stars as your orgasm crashed over you. You moaned Matt's name over and over as he rubbed your clit in tight, fast circles, completely mesmerized by you finishing for him. Your whole body trembled until your climax subsided while Chris watched from the bottom of the stairs.

"Holy shit, Matt. I think you just lost No Nut November. Fucking pussy," Chris smirked. "What? I did not! I didn't break any of the rules!" Matt exclaimed defensively. "He's right, Chris. He didn't break any rules. He did, however, make it way harder on himself to follow the rules," you devilishly grinned, peering down at Matt's neglected cock that strained at the fabric of his pants, begging to be stroked.

"Now you gotta deal with having that boner until it goes away on its own," you chuckled at him, closing your legs and getting up. You rolled up your yoga mat, bending down in front of them both, and they each angrily groaned at you and stomped out of the room.

You were plotting your moves for the next few days. Meanwhile, Chris had a plan of his own. Upon learning that he was allowed to touch you however he pleased as long as he wasn't sticking his dick in you, he decided he was going to make you sweat a little the same way you were doing to him and Matt.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Twelve

The next night, in an attempt to turn on the boys, you tried on your new lingerie you'd bought at the beginning of the bet. You stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom dressed in a white lace bra and matching panties, knowing it was going to drive Matt and Chris crazy.

You wandered off to the living room where Matt was sitting on the couch, flipping through movies on Netflix and trying to find something to watch. "Hi, Matt," you cooed, leaning up against the wall. "Hey," Matt responded, his eyes flickering over at you and back at the television, and then back over at you when he realized what you were wearing.

"Wow," he whispered, studying the way you looked in white. "I have to show you something," you said, wandering over to him and straddling him on the couch. "What are you doing?" He asked, accusingly.

"Look," you said, pulling down your bra to reveal your breasts to him. "I got them pierced about six months ago, and they were finally healed enough for me to change out the metal," you couldn't contain your smug smile as you flashed Matt.

"Wow," he whispered again, reaching up to grab both your breasts, and he ran his thumbs over the heart-shaped rings. You shuddered at his touch. "They're so much more sensitive now," you whimpered. "Did it hurt when you got them pierced?" Matt asked, looking up at you. "A little, but I liked it," you snickered and bit your lip.

Without thinking, Matt leaned forward and took your right nipple into his mouth, delicately swirling his tongue around and gently suckling on it before moving to the left. You let out a few soft whines while he pleased you. You started to rock your hips back and forth, grinding up against Matt's rock hard cock.

"Okay, that's enough. You're being totally unfair right now," Matt said, lifting you off of him and shoving you to the other end of the couch.

"Hey, what's the matter, Matt?" You asked, crawling back over towards him. He jumped to a standing position. "I have to get out of here. You're too good at this," Matt grabbed his keys off the coffee table and headed out the door, fleeing from temptation. You smiled to yourself, getting so close to making him cave for you.

You picked up the remote and started searching through the various streaming services, waiting for Chris to come home so you could tease him next. Chris came bursting through the door, mad as hell. There was something about his demeanor that was off and slightly unsettling.

"Are you okay, Chris?" You asked him while sitting on the couch in your lingerie. "It's been twelve days since I've had an orgasm. I'm full of testosterone and cum, and I've had a shitty day, and I can't even to go to my room and beat my meat about it. I need to take all this aggression out on someone," Chris responded, his eyes sparkling and his lips curling into a smile as his eyes landed on you.

He walked over towards you, fell to his knees in front of you, and forced your legs apart. "You're such a fucking tease, skipping around in my house in your fucking lingerie. I hope these weren't expensive," Chris growled, ripping a hole in your lace panties.

You gasped and your eyes widened as you watched while Chris' lips latched onto your clit. He started moving his tongue in fast, jagged movements, making animalistic sounds while he ate you. "Chris, it's so sensitive," you squirmed around beneath him. "I don't mind," he smirked at you as he went back to assaulting your pussy with his mouth, sucking on your clit and licking it at the speed of light.

"Oh, Chris!" You called out, tugging on his hair, but he didn't let up. "If you want me to stop, just say that," he said, his lips vibrating against you. You didn't want to tell him to stop because you knew he would altogether. Malicious compliance was always one of Chris' favorite pastimes. "Don't stop, keep going," you whimpered, closing your thighs down around his ears.

You pulled down your bra again, gently tweaking your nipples while you looked down at Chris. His eyes flicked up at you. "Oh, my god. I didn't know you had your tits pierced. That's so fucking hot," he whispered, reaching up and grabbing a handful in each palm while he went back to eating your pussy like he was enjoying his last meal.

He squeezed your breasts and started pinching your nipples and rolling them between the pads of his fingers. You threw your head back and let out a satisfied moan as you began to shiver. "Yeah? You think you get to cum after all the shit you've been pulling?" Chris said, withdrawing all attention right before you finished.

"Nice try, fucking slut," Chris responded, spitting on your pussy and getting up to walk right back out the door. "Chris, please!" You called after him, nearly on the verge of tears from being teased like that. Chris slammed the door shut behind him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Well played, Chris," you whispered from the couch, staring down at the torn fabric that barely covered your bottom half while you decided to take matters into your own hands. You reached down to soothe the aching feeling Chris stuck you with after leaving you high and dry.

You rubbed your clit in fast circles with one hand and pinched your nipple with the other as you finished, remembering the way Chris' mouth felt on you. Just as you were trembling and reaching your much-needed climax, Matt walked back in through the door after finishing up his late night drive, his eyes immediately landing on the way your fingers were manipulating your clit.

"Oh my god. You're relentless!" Matt exclaimed before running up the stairs to take his mind off the scene that had just unfolded in front of him. You breathlessly chuckled about being caught. You hadn't meant for Matt to walk in on you and be tempted by you even further, but you weren't mad that it had played out that way.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Fourteen

You decided to kick it up a notch in the teasing department. By now, both Matt and Chris were very skeptical of you any time you wanted to show them anything or ask for help with something, so you had to get more creative with it.

You started taking naked pictures of yourself in the bathroom mirror after your shower, saving the good photos. After walking out into the hallway in just a towel, you opened up the group chat and sent in the best nude photo you'd taken, following it up with an "Oops! Didn't mean to send that! ;)" But they both knew better than to trust that it was a simple mistake.

When Chris opened your message, he let out a loud, annoyed grunt that resounded throughout the house. A few seconds later, you heard Matt's voice from down the hall, "You're evil!" You decided to strut around in your towel for the rest of the night, randomly dropping it while you were around the boys.

They used what willpower they could muster to keep their eyes off you as you relentlessly teased them with your body. While it was the closest they'd each gotten to saying fuck it about the whole No Nut November challenge, no one caved that night...

INTERACTIVE CHOOSE-YOUR-OWN ENDING AHEAD:

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 if you choose to have Matt and Chris both fail the challenge and become your submissive little fuck toys, click here 🤍

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 if you choose to have Matt and Chris win the challenge and turn you into their submissive little fuck toy, click here 🤍

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[sagesskies]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴇᴏ

✒ ᴍᴏɴᴇʏ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙᴜʏ ʏᴏᴜ

✉ - ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏ��ꜱ - ʜᴇʏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ! ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱɪᴄᴋ ᴄᴇᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀ ɢɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴘ ʜᴇ ꜰʀᴇQᴜᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ? (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ʀɴ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ♥)

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀɪꜱʜ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀꜱ, ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛɪᴇꜱ, ᴍɪʟᴀɴ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ʟᴀᴛᴇ 30ꜱ), ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜱᴏʀᴅᴇʀ (ᴍɪʟᴀɴ), ɪɴꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀ (ᴍɪʟᴀɴ), ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ᴜɴʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ (ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ), ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ɴᴇɢʟᴇᴄᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!

Yandere CEO who first met you at your job in your friend's family bakery. Young, bright, and full of life, wearing a baby blue apron. You eagerly greeted him with a smile, and asked how he was doing. There was nothing forced about your mannerisms, it was all genuinely, purely, you. 

Yandere CEO, despite knowing it'll all end up flushed down a toilet, comes in everyday ordering the different pastries you recommend. After his seventh visit, you jokingly ask him if he's got any cavities yet and he blushes. Not that you notice. 

Yandere CEO who gathers the courage to talk to you beyond simple good mornings, and responding to your questions of: “How are you Milan?” or “So that'll it be for today, eh?” and stammers out things like, “N- Nice weather today, huh?” and even, “Uh.. How- How long have you been working here for?” It's all simple, nearly no substance, but it's exceptional progress for somebody like him who barely even speaks to his secretaries beyond plain Yes's and No's. 

Yandere CEO whose fair face turns a furious red whenever you tease or compliment him, calling him things like adorable and cute. Never has he been called anything like that before. People see him, with his bodybuilder-esque physique and stoic face, with it's fierce features, and are too intimidated to treat him with anything other than with a  respect that is borne out of fear. 

Yandere CEO who knows this is wrong. He's 38 years old, and you're only what? 23? This is wrong, this is taboo, this is predatory. But his heart can't help but beat furiously for you each time he steps inside the quaint little bakery. Your bright smile, your gentle eyes, your warm voice. You are like the sun, and he is your ever-devoted Icarus, who will crash and burn if he tries to even fly an inch closer.

Yandere CEO who is unable to sleep at night. He's used to this, he's had insomnia since he was a teenager in highschool, but never like this before. Where previously it was paranoia and anxieties that kept sleep at bay now it was you, the scent of pastries and bread, and your warmth. 

Yandere CEO who unconsciously starts to act like a teenage girl. Doodling your name in the margins of his paperwork, writing (Name) x Milan over and over again in the empty pages of his journal, which was previously used exclusively for tracking his expenses but was now being used for more personal entries. 

July 17, 2009

Today [Name] remembered it was my birthday, and bought me a slice of chocolate cake using his own money. I tried to keep it down, but unfortunately my body is too used to emptying its stomach whenever I eat too much. 

September 7, 2009

[Name] asked me if I've been sleeping well recently, and even if I told him I was okay, he still gave me a box of teabags. He told me it helps him sleep at night, and hopes it'll be able to help me too. He's so kind, and too good to me. I can never tell him it's him who's the cause behind these sleepless nights. I think it'll devastate him. Sometimes, I hope it will.

February 13, 2010

[Name] asked me if I was going to buy somebody any pastries for Valentine's Day, and if there's anybody I'm hoping to receive any chocolates from. I wanted to tell him I hoped to receive chocolates from him, but that would be inappropriate. Then he told me he hoped his girlfriend would remember to give him some.

[Name] has a girlfriend. 

Yandere CEO who doesn't show up for multiple days after you reveal this to him. He goes back to old habits, the following days occupied by work, work, and work. He sleeps rarely, and wakes up late. He eats even less than he usually does, and forgets to go to the gym. 

The only thing that Yandere CEO does outside of that? Pay private investigators to learn as much as possible about you, no matter how dirty or well kept the secret is he will know. 

It's unethical, a violation of all your rights, but he thought you two were close. That you were friends. A kind of relationship he barely even knew. All he knows is distant families, cold business partners, and shallow imitations of friendship. He thought you were different, you were so real, but if he didn't even know you had a girlfriend, then what else was he unaware of?

Yandere CEO whose father calls him, and tells him his secretaries have told him about how he's been acting, and advises him to take a break. Perhaps he should try to hit the dating scene? He'll have to get married eventually, and he's not getting any younger. 

Yandere CEO who goes to the blind dates his mother arranges for him. Daughters of her friends, sometimes even granddaughters. Women who are sometimes a decade younger than him. Women who are his age. He never told his parents he was gay, and now he has to suffer through this. 

Yandere CEO who is thinking of canceling the date on the spot when she takes him to a familiar bakery, the familiar bell rings as the door swings open and you're still there, wearing your baby blue apron, and the polite smile you flashed his date immediately widens when you see him. 

Yandere CEO who freezes up, and then stammers out a greeting, face flushed. His date, who has so far only experienced the cold and stoic front he puts on, is surprised that what has broken down the stone walls he's put up is the cute, young, male baker, who has a bright grin on his face. 

“Milan!” You practically chirp, “It's been so long, where have you been man?” 

You were wondering where he was? You missed him? You missed him? Milan? He couldn't believe his ears, he felt like he could faint.

Milan clears his throat, averting his grey eyes away from you, and avoiding Carrie's burning gaze. 

“I have been preoccupied with work,” He explains, it's not a lie, he's just exaggerating how much work there was for him when it was basically just him doing paperwork and attending meetings every once in a while, “I apologize if my absence has bothered you…” 

You chuckle, “I'm just glad to see you again.” Milan can't help the small smile that forms on his face, but he restrains it from widening into a grin. He's in front of Carrie, a friend but at the same time a business partner, a marriage prospect, an unwelcome intruder into what could've been a moment between you two.

You glance at Carrie as if remembering that she was here, “Ah, sorry, you must've been confused on how I know him, but I'm a friend of Milan,” You smile kindly at her, “Name's [Name] [L/N], nice to meet you!” 

Carrie forces a polite smile on her face, “A pleasure,” Her eyes are filled with a cold fury, though Milan knows it's not directed to you, “My name is Carolyn, Carolyn Deveuraux. However, you may call me Carrie.” 

Milan fakes a cough, “Mhm, anyways.. I'd like to have the usual… and Carrie you'll have..?” 

She hums, “I'll have a cinnabon.” 

You glance between the two, noticing the obvious tension between them, “Oookay, I'll have that prepared for you two in a jiffy,” Milan hands you his card, and savors the slight brush of your fingers, before your warmth is teared away and you slide it back to him when you're done.

He glares at Carrie for scaring you away, but she doesn't even look at him, her eyes are fixed on you. Milan wants to gouge her eyes out, she doesn't even deserve to look at you. Not when she barely knows you. Not like him, who knows every single thing about you that his money can buy for him.

You head into the back to prepare the goods, and Carrie goes back outside where there are tables and chairs. She sits on one, and crosses her arms. Milan settles on the one across from her, posture straight, arms on the table, eyes… decidedly not looking at Carrie. 

“So, you and that man… [Name], was it?” Milan nods, she continues, “You know each other, do you?” She taps one carefully manicured nail against the arm of the chair. Tap, tap, tap. 

Milan does not simply know [Name], he practically lives underneath the younger man's skin, but instead of verbalizing this he nods once more, “We have known each other for two years.” 

“Hm,” Her eyes narrow, they are blue, like ice, “ And how old is [Name]?”

“Twenty-four years old,” Milan tells her, “He had just gotten out of college when we first met.” His eyes trail to the window into the bakery, you still haven't emerged. Why were you taking so long? 

“Does he know?” Carrie’s tone is sharp and frigid. Milan glances at her, if he is not careful then he could be caught up in an inescapable storm. 

“He does not,” Milan admits, “And I'd prefer to keep it that way.” You still have your girlfriend, and he's content with your secrets and the stolen pictures. 

Carrie glares at him, “Why him? Is it his mind? His personality? Or is he simply a pretty boy you like to ogle at?” She's angry, and Milan, for his lack of proper socialization, has been taught to read people, every single shift in expression or body language has a hidden meaning, can tell this fury stems from something personal. 

“That is none of your business,” Milan had known Carrie for a while now, since his 30th birthday party where his father invited all his associates, and Lewis Deveuraux had brought his 28 year old daughter Carolyn, but they were never friends so much as allies in the cutthroat world of capitalism, and she was crossing a line. 

“I can tell your father.” 

“Have you ever heard of the saying, ‘Snitches get stitches’, Carolyn?” Milan asks, “You tell him, and I'll be doing so much more than giving you stitches.” 

Carrie doesn't even flinch, “Not much you can do when stripped of your position at your father's company,” She doesn't get a chance to continue, not when you arrive with a tray carrying the warm pastries. You set the plates down, as well as the complementary coffee. 

“Here you go…” You glance between the two of them, “It's been nice seeing you again Milan,” You smile at Carrie, “Great to meet you too, Carrie, hope to see you around some more.” 

Milan digs a nail into the skin of his palm hard enough to draw blood, if only to stop himself from punching that smirk on Carrie's face off, “Thank you, [Name],” Her voice is pleasant, light and airy, “It was a pleasure to meet a… friend of Milan today.” 

“Same here,” You grin. You wave goodbye to the both of them, then head back into the bakery. 

Carrie's polite smile is gone as soon as you're out of the vicinity, “Let's talk about this later,” She reaches out and places a well-manicured hand on top of Milan's larger one, and her lips curl up, “For now, enjoy the treats your little crush has made for us.” 

Yandere CEO, who since that reunion has started coming back more often. Happy to finally be able to bask in your presence again, thoughts of your girlfriend are dashed from his mind when he saw your smile again after two months of being deprived of it. 

The only downside? Carrie is there as well. Chatting you up, using her charm to lower your guard down. She's a snake, or a wolf in sheep's clothing. Yandere CEO knows she's trying to break you two apart, but he won't let her. 

Yandere CEO who can't stand watching you smile at her, keeping up with her bright mind in ways he knew you could but had never seen before. He didn't know it was possible, but he's become even more enraptured. Handsome with not only a good personality, but also intelligent. God, you were perfect. 

Yandere CEO is able to himself with an endurance he didn't even know he possessed. He's not used to the rage that has been gathering inside him, but it's not that similar to managing his fear and paranoia. He can't do anything to Carrie, not when you two have practically become the best of friends.

Yandere CEO who decides that he can't let himself fall behind, he was here first you know. He's known you for two years while Carrie was only for a few weeks. He musters up the confidence he often uses in meeting rooms, trying to look suave and cool, but instead making you laugh.

“Haha… you're seriously so adorable Milan,” You tease, “What're you acting so serious for?” 

After that, Yandere CEO decides to just act how he did before, it's clearly more effective as you've even invited him to eat with you in the park near the bakery during your lunch hours. Something you haven't done in the two whole years you've known each other. 

He realizes that in a sense, you are like him. Despite his stoicness, and your expressive features, his assertive aura, with your laid back vibe, both of you have an appreciation for genuine people. It makes his heart beat faster, for some inexplicable reason.

Yandere CEO who listens to you attentively as you start opening up to him more about your life. Your struggles with paying off college debt, your inability to land a higher paying job, and how you don't have enough money to pay for your rent. He already knows about all of this, but is happy nonetheless to be able to give you a comforting hug or pat on the back. One time, you actually cried and he got to feel the warmth of your tears as they raced down your face, they soaked into the skin of his palm as he wiped them away and offered you words of comfort.

Yandere CEO who abides by the law of equivalent exchange, and opens up to you more as well.  He's heard before that the more imperfect you make yourself out to be, the more attractive you were for it was a sign of humanity. So what's more human than sharing his past as a bullied fat kid, and the whiplash he got once he had bulked up and attracted admirers like they were flies? Maybe it's the insomnia, the social anxiety, and the knowledge that he's surrounded by shallow people. Whatever it is, it works. 

Yandere CEO who has started to feel genuinely close to you. Where before, it was akin to a celebrity having to deal with an awkward yet starstruck fan, now it felt like you two were old friends having a good time together. This is the first time he's had a relationship like this and he'd rather have his company go bankrupt and end up homeless on the streets than lose it. 

September 12, 2010 

[Name] is not meant for me, he is young, full of potential, and with a girl that he loves. But he tempts me with his warm eyes, beautiful smile, and those kind words of his that has had me wrapped around his finger since the very first day I met him. 

It is wrong, it is dirty. I am too old, too broken, worn out like a hand me down toy. However I cannot help myself. He is like the sun, bright and comforting, yet he burns me so. 

[Name]

[Name]

[Name] 

Even just writing his name has me weak at the knees, it makes me feel alive. Like I can face the day without wanting to retreat back to my bed and refusing to get out till I am dragged by my feet. Just the idea of being able to catch a glimpse at him, gives me the energy to get up and do a marathon. 

[Name] is too charming for his own good. He’s such a sweet boy, not knowing how much he tempts me to do such despicable things every single time I see him talking to customers or laughing with Carrie. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know. 

I should be leaving him alone, and never speaking to him again. He is fine, he is perfect, he is like God. But I am nothing but a filthy sinner who shouldn’t even be within his sights. Better kept away, far far away. But I want nothing more than to touch him, to hold his feet in my filthy hands and press my cold lips to it. His foot alone is worth more than my entire career. His life? Priceless. 

However if I were to distance myself from him again, I’d become a shell. No better than a living corpse. My father and mother would be concerned for the business, and they’d keep on trying to figure out why I’m in such a state, till they eventually trace it all back to [Name], and I can’t have that. I don’t want them knowing about him. It is bad enough Carrie knows. But my own parents? 

I cannot accept that. I will not share him. They would take him away from me like they took away everything else good that could’ve happened to me by being my parents and birthing into the life that I’ve led. His warmth would be engulfed in their cold gazes and harsh words, and soon he would be no better than I am, and that cannot happen. 

He may not be meant for me, but I will make sure nobody else can have him. 

Even that girlfriend of his.

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

[forhappysake]

Fluffy Surprise

Author's Note: Not proofread and the first fic I've written in like six months so read if you dareeee

Summary: Reader decides to give Spencer a present when he returns to their new home.

Warnings: People with cat allergies, beware! (?) Fluff ofc.

You moved into the new house two weeks ago.  Technically, you moved all your stuff into the new house two weeks ago. In boxes. Lots and lots of heavy boxes.

Spencer had come up with a system, labeling each box with the room it would go into at the new house. You had worked together to pack everything, label each box, and unload the boxes into your new home. 

And it seemed like the moment he set the last box down and you were ready to start setting the place up, his phone rang. 

Spencer had been gone for one week. 

The case was halfway across the country, somewhere in Santa Fe. You couldn’t exactly be mad at him for being gone, but unpacking and trying to organize everything without his input was a nightmare. You were finishing the last box in your shared bedroom, carefully placing his clothes on wooden hangers and organizing them in the closet, when your phone rang. 

Spencer’s name lit up the screen. You answered quickly. 

“Hi, Spence,” you said, plopping down on the freshly made bed.

You could tell how tired he was from the long pause he took before responding. “Hey, honey. How’s the unpacking?” he asked with a small sigh. 

You frowned to yourself, worried about how tired he sounded. “Oh, it’s alright. I’d like you to look through all the rooms when you get home, just to make sure everything is where it should be.” You let out a soft laugh, “I also had a hard time hanging up all the pictures and paintings without you, so we may have to straighten some of them up when you get back.” 

Another pause followed, though this time you could envision him nodding to himself. “We can do that,” he said. “I’m sorry you had to do it all by yourself. I promise I’ll find a way to make it up to you.” 

You rolled your eyes. “It was fine, Spencer. Besides, I’m pretty sure chasing a serial killer or something gives you an excuse.” 

He sighed on the other end of the line. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. We caught the unsub this evening. I’m hoping to be home late this evening, but it probably won’t be until after you go to bed.”

You smiled, content with the thought of him coming home to your freshly decorated home. “Oh, I’ll be staying up. I want to see your reaction to the place.”

“Alright,” he said, clearly too tired to urge you to go to bed instead with a list of facts about the health benefits of a good night’s sleep. 

You sighed. “As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I’ve got about fifteen more boxes to go.” 

“I understand. I should probably get some work done, too. Files, reports, you know how it is,” his voice was barely a whisper now, the exhaustion beginning to get the better of him. 

“Don’t work too hard, Spence,” you cautioned. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you.”

“I won’t. I love you too,” he answered. The end of his line promptly went dead.

You looked around the bedroom, discarding your phone on the bed. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was something you could do to make Spencer’s return home a bit more special. 

You sat up and leaned over, furrowing your brow and resting your head in the palm of your hand as you tried to think of things Spencer liked. Of course, Spencer liked a lot of things. He liked sweet coffee, puzzles, and a classic novel in some foreign language you couldn’t comprehend. 

None of those things were overly special, in your mind. As you sat and wracked your brain, a thought finally came to you. 

One month ago, walking by a local cat cafe, Spencer spotted the most beautiful calico. She had fluffy hair, one black ear, one orange. Her little paws were white and she was so well mannered. Spencer and yourself had gone in immediately and he had spent your time inside doting on the calico, whose name, you learned, was Calypso. 

You bolted up from the bed and out into the living room, finding your purse sitting among the unpacked boxes. You shot out to the car, and without a second thought, drove the ten minutes to the cat cafe. 

You said a silent prayer that the cat was still available as you pulled into a parking space across the street. As if on cue, you looked up to see the same cat lounging lazily in the window sill, green eyes poised on you. 

The adoption process was quick, quicker than you anticipated. Fifty dollars later, you were on the road with Calypso in the passenger seat, sitting demurely in the carrier the shelter had provided you with to take her home in. 

On the way home you had to stop at PetSmart to pick up a litter box, a few toys, and a scratching post with the hope that your new furry friend would not decimate your new furniture. Calypso remained in the carrier, watching quietly from the shopping cart as you agonized over which treats to get. 

Soon enough, you were on your way home. The moment you walked through the front door, you set the carrier down and allowed Calypso to wander free. She was tentative at first, gently sniffing the floor and getting the feel for her new surroundings. However, after ten minutes, she perched herself on the kitchen counter, looking quite like the queen of her own castle. 

You took this chance to open her new toys and scatter them about the house, as well as find a secluded corner for her litterbox.

For the rest of the day, the cat watched you unpack boxes. Beady green eyes noting your movements until you disappeared from her sight. Occasionally, if you left the room for too long, you would turn to find that she had followed you. In these moments, you would stop to offer her a gentle petting and giggle as she flopped down on the floor, furry belly up to the sky. 

It was six hours after his phone call that Spencer arrived at home. 

2:19 a.m. was the time on your watch when you heard the lock turn and rose to greet him at the door. Calypso, seated in the corner of the room on a side table, perked her ears up at the new noise coming from the entrance. 

Spencer locked the door behind him and turned to face you, reaching out and pulling you in for a long hug. 

You rubbed your hands up and down his back. “Are you happy to be home?” you asked, your voice muffled by his shoulder. 

“You have no idea,” he said. He pulled away only to examine the living room. Spencer nodded in approval. “It looks really good in here. You did a great job.”

You smiled warmly, nerves settling in your stomach as you realized he’d not yet noticed the cat in the corner of the room, who was still watching him with suspicious eyes. 

“Spencer, I have to tell you something,” you said, wanting to explain yourself for doing something as impulsive as adopting a cat while he was away. 

His face suddenly became very serious. “What is it? Did something happen while I was gone? Are you alright?” 

The questions came quickly and you shook your head to reassure him. “No, Spencer, it’s nothing bad. Here, come look.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him forward until the two of you were standing behind your couch in the middle of the living room. 

“Look around,” you said. 

Spencer’s tired eyes traversed the room. You watched as they landed on paintings, the television, the clock, and nearly everything but the cat who sat entirely still in the corner. 

“I don’t understand,” he said, brow furrowed. “Did you make some major change I don’t know about? If you did, I’m sure that it’s f-”

At that moment Calypso jumped off the side table. The soft thump that accompanied her landing on the floor was enough to stop Spencer in his tracks. Finally, you watched as the feline caught his eye. 

“You didn’t,” Spencer said, his voice barely above a whisper. His reaction wasn’t telling you much, and you were afraid that he was not pleased. 

You started trying to explain yourself. “Well, I knew that you had a long week. I wanted to do something special. I know how much you enjoyed spending time with her at the cafe and now that we have the space I figured…”

You trailed off. In the time you had spoken, Calypso had crossed the room, climbed the couch, and began butting her head up against Spencer’s hand. Panic was setting in. Why wasn’t he reacting? 

Just when you were about to push him to say something, you looked up to see a large grin plastered on his face. Spencer gently wrapped his arms around the cat and picked her up, holding her close and petting in between her ears. 

“This is the most thoughtful present ever. I love her,” he said. His excitement reminded you of a little child and pulled at your heartstrings in a way that could have made you cry. 

You sighed in relief. “I’m so glad.” 

With Calypso still draped over one arm, Spencer reached out for you, pulling you to his side. He planted a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you so much. I love her. I love you,” he said, smile still evident on his face. 

“I love you too,” you said, turning to face Calypso, who looked all too content to be wrapped up in Spencer’s arms. 

“I think she’s trying to steal my man,” you joked, nudging Spencer on the side. 

Spencer laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry too much about that. My heart has room for two lovely ladies.”

[imagines--galore]

Hello!

could I get number 13 on the prompt list with Edmund Pevensie?

Summary: He was a King. You were no Royal. You were his friend, as he was yours. And despite the fact the people kept saying there was something more, you denied it. For a King could never love a commoner. Could he? Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A/N: Yay! First request for Edmund!

"Really, Your Majesty! This is just too much!" You said, running your hand over the fabric of the dress the youngest Queen of Narnia had forced you to put on.

"It is not." The Queen stated with the stubbornness of a teenager, which she was. "And how many times I've told you to call me Lucy."

"Multiple times, Your Majesty." You responded with a cheeky grin, prompting Lucy to roll her eyes in a rather un-queenly manner.

Luch walked up to straighten the thin satin belt that rested around your waist. The dress truly was a work of art. Made of a material that you were sure cost more then the wages you received, it was soft and delicate to the touch. Not to mention the work down the front of the dress seemed to sparkle in a way that made you feel like a princess. And the color? A grey that almost appeared silver. A rather unusual color but somehow familiar.

You were sure you had seen that color before, just not sure where.

"The seamstress made a few mistakes with the measurements, and I don't want it to sit in the back of my wardrobe. It is simply too stunning to never see the light of day." You let out a small hum of agreement as you allowed yourself a moment of admiration. The mirror in front of you showed a figure dressed in a gown that was surely out of a fairy tale.

Then again, you had seen grander and more beautiful gowns, and the one you wore was rather simple in comparison. But in your eyes, it was perfect. You twisted where you stood, hoping to catch a glimpse of the details that adorned the back. Lucy smiled at your obvious admiration.

"Maybe if you wore it to the ball next week, Edmund will finally notice you."

The words jolted you out of your little haze of admiration.

Turning your gaze towards the now smiling Queen, you blinked. "Notice me?" You asked, though you knew the answer before it came. Had heard it one too many times from so many people and creatures you knew.

"As in confess that he loves you, just as much as you love him." You blinked. The effect of her words were immediate as a blush turned your cheeks a bright red. The sight of which had Lucy smiling even wider.

"I-I do-don-" You were cut off by Queen Susan, who had been sitting at a nearby writing table and going over the final preparations for the Winter Ball.

"Lucy, you mustn't assume such things, it is rather rude." Her younger sister pursed her lips in a stubborn line. "Though I must admit Y/n." The Gentle Queen continued, now looking towards you. "Edmund does seem to show more affection towards you then he does anyone. Even us."

Annoyance had being told off forgotten, Lucy chimed in. "And we're his siblings!"

You shook your head as you reached behind you to undo the dress, anything to occupy her hands and hide her face lest the two Queens see the blush on your cheeks. "Your Majesties are mistaken. King Edmund and I are simply friends. And even that is a miracle given how I'm a simply maid and he is a King."

Lucy frowned. "And what does that matter? Love should not have anything to do with it." Having stepped out of the gorgeous gown and into your everyday clothes, you shook your head. "No, but that is it, Your Majesty." Your words sounded unconvincing, even to your own ears. "I am not in love with your brother."

A lie.

                                          ————————–

You were in love with King Edmund.

Had been in love with him since the moment you had seen him.

Of course, you hadn't realized it then. Had not picked up on the fact that perhaps your heart raced because he was so near. How your heart leaped in your chest when he smiled at you. Or even how everything just seemed a little more magical when he was around.

You had met him by chance. Having finished your duties for the day, you had chosen to go down to the beach and collect some shells. You already had quite the collection but you always found new beautiful pieces to add to your collection. You had just straightened up from picking a rather pretty pink shell when the sound of an approaching horse had you looking to your left.

There he was, sitting atop a horse, with no saddle or rein, no entourage or crown adorning his forehead to show his status. The speed at which he rode his horse had you stepping back before he was even near you.

For reasons known only to Aslan, he came to a halt as he neared you. You had returned to your little expedition and was already digging through a small patch of sand where you had spied a star shaped shell. The sight of it had a bright smile forming on your lips, your eyes alight with joy at such a small, insignificant yet beautiful creation.

And Edmund had felt his heart clench at the sight of your sweet smile. A strange urgency bubbled in his chest. One he had never known before. One that compelled him to dismount from his horse and approach you. Though he stood a good few feet away as he watched you straighten and place the shell in your basket.

It was then that you became aware of him. You stood there as well, your basket tucked at the side.

He had stopped at the sight of you. And the both of you had simply looked at each other.

It was rather strange looking at a complete stranger in the eye. Normally you kept your head down and went about your work. But there was just something about him that had you meeting his gaze.

Him in his simple breeches, shirt and shoes, black hair swept away from his forehead, blowing gently in the salty air. Eyes alight with a light that you would see for months to come whenever you would run into him.

He knew it was not proper to stare, but he could not help himself.

You in your simple dress, with the hem wet from the waves that kept tickling your bare toes. The braid you kept your hair in, hardly able to keep the strands in place given how hard the wind was blowing. Your cheeks were flushed from being out in the sun for so long.

And yet Edmund had never seen a more prettier sight in all of Narnia.

Slowly, you smiled at him in a friendly manner. "Is there something that you needed?" You asked.

He shook his head. "I apologize for disturbing you on your outing My Lady, I was just curious why a young maiden would venture so far away from Cair. Assuming, you are from there." He quickly added, not wanting to make any false assumptions.

Giving a small nod, you confirmed his suspicions. "Yes, I'm from Cair. I work as a maid there." The both of you glanced down the length of the beach to where the castle shone brightly in the light of the slowly setting sun. "You're a little far out aren't you?" He asked with a smile to which you gave a sheepish one in return.

"To tell you the truth, I love to collect shells." You held up your basket to show the small collection you had gathered in the hour you had been at the beach. "And there aren't quite that many close to the castle, so I have to venture a little further ahead."

Meeting his eyes once more, you allowed yourself to admire how handsome he was. Surely he was a lord or something of the sort. Perhaps a visiting noble from Archenland? Edmund's line of sight shifted to the setting sun just behind you.

"May I escort you back to Cair? It is near sunset and the tide will be coming in." He offered, not wanting to leave your presence just yet. You glanced over your shoulder as well, before turning to give him a nod. "That would be appreciated thank you." You paused. "I do not believe you told me your name."

Edmund's smile faltered a little. He knew if he told you his name you would recognize him. Clearing his throat he decided on a little white lie. Or rather half-truth. "My name is Ed. And may I ask you for your name, My Lady?" You waved a hand in a dismissive manner. "I am hardly a Lady, but you may call me Y/n, Ed." It was a rather strange name, but then who was she to say anything.

With the horse following after the both of you at a slow pace, you and Ed began the walk back to the castle.

                                          ————————–

It took you longer then normal to return to the castle. Probably because the both of you were so lost in your conversation. You hardly noticed when his horse actually bypassed you and reached the back entrance of the castle by himself. You didn't care that you were late.

It wasn't everyday you met someone you could talk to like you were with Ed. It was strange. You wanted to tell him everything. And for someone who was very private with their thoughts, this was a huge surprise.

And you weren't the only one doing the talking. Edmund had always felt a little alone, even in his family. Before going to war, his father had been the only one to understand him. After coming to Narnia his siblings had begun to understand him too, but it just wasn't the same.

But then here you were. Someone he had just met, and he had never felt so understood in all his life. It was a little scary, how you were so inquisitive and were able to pick up on cues and read between the lines of every word that came out of him. You were sharp, clever and smart.

Yes, he knew all three words were synonymous, but he didn't care. They described you perfectly.

"Well I should head back inside." You finally said, once there was a brief lull in the conversation. You really didn't want to, but you had to get to sleep so you could work the next day. Ed gave a small nod. And was it your imagination, or did he look a little disappointed as well.

"I had a lovely time talking to you." You admitted with a bright smile. "And I shall be surely on the lookout for the book you mentioned. Perhaps I may find it in the local library." You had begun to climb up the stairs leading towards the backdoor. He would have to enter from the other side where the stables were.

Edmund continued to look at you as you ascended the stairs. You walked backwards so you could look at him even as you departed. Suddenly, he realized he didn't want you to leave. A burst of courage, one that would make his younger sister proud, had him bounding up a couple of stairs, reaching out and taking your hand in his.

A startled gasp left your lips as you looked down at him. He was still a few steps away, but even that distance felt intimate.

"Will I see you again?" He asked. The young King had no idea where this new side of him was coming from. He had always preferred solitude, and he was sure that the moment he left your presence he would revert back to his old self.

But for now, he would act on every impulse he could.

Just so he could be in your company again in the future.

You stopped short, a surprised look crossing your features as you blinked at him. Your gaze dropped from his face, to the hand that gripped yours. And though you were cautious around people you just met, something in you reassured you. Had you believing that you could trust him.

So you nodded, and the smile that lit up the entirety of his face was one that stayed with you till the next time you met.

                                          ————————–

It didn't take long for you to become aware of Ed, or rather King Edmund's true status. And though it did shock and embarrass you, not being able to recognize one of the Monarchs of your beloved country, the only thing that changed in your friendship were the titles. You began to call him Your Majesty, or King Edmund, whatever the situation asked for. And him, out of spite and knowing how much you hated it, called you My Lady.

Everything else stayed the same.

Your friendship. Your ability to know what was bothering one another. The fact that the both of you knew when the other was going through a hard time. He with his duties as a King, and you with your own problems.

The whole castle slowly became aware of your friendship, especially when Edmund would seek you out and would speak to you about the most recent book the both of you had read. He, like you, was an avid reader. Any book would do really.

Sometimes you would stop in the middle of your task, and simply stand with the King in the middle of the hallway, as the both of you discussed some new scientific theory being proposed by some cranky old centaur.

Other times you would burst into his study, frantically gesturing as you let out your frustrations concerning a character in whatever adventurous tale you were reading. He would put aside his work and just listen to you with that knowing smirk on his face.

Once he had let you rant for nearly ten minutes before handing you the second book and saying that hadn't been the ending. You had once thrown a book at his head for that.

He'd learned to not test you when it came to books after that.

Still, over the months your friendship had grown stronger. You had even gotten to know his siblings. And while you were friends with them as well, the level of intimacy you shared with Edmund, was one you could never reach with anyone else.

It was not surprising when the residents of Cair Paravel began to assume that the King of Narnia was courting a simple maid.

And though no one ever said it outright, everyone thought the same.

                                          ————————–

The Winter Ball was a grand affair.

Since the defeat of the White Witch Queen Susan had taken every step to ensure that the Winter Ball was the grandest of celebrations. Not only because it was Christmas but because she wanted to wipe away any negative memories the Narnians had when it came to winter.

As a half-dryad, partial to spring and summer, even you could not help enjoying the festivities.

But from afar.

You were keeping to the shadows, hiding in an alcove that overlooked the beach you and Edmund had walked along for hours at a time. Queen Lucy had gotten what she wanted. You attending the Ball. She'd actually dragged her brother into the conversation. And when he had asked if you were going to attend, you knew you were trapped.

He had looked so hopeful that all you could do was say yes.

You never could say no to him. A weakness he exploited sometimes when it came to getting away from Cair Paravel, during work hours, and just wandering around in the Woods or walking along the beach. Your Supervisor knew of your getaways, but since you had always been an efficient worker, she never complained.

At the moment, you were dressed in the same dress Lucy had given you, with your hair in an elegant braid, adorned with flowers you had picked from garden earlier that day.

You wore a necklace with the gown, a piece of jewelry that had been gifted to you by a certain King. Your fingers lifted to the gorgeous piece, lightly tracing the outline of the necklace, a small smile pulling at your lips as your mind wandered to the one who had gifted it to you.

"Lady Y/n?"

Speaking of which.

You spun on your heel, having forgotten that there was a side entrance to the alcove you were hiding in.

"King Edmund." You responded with a quick curtsy. You smiled at him as you straightened up. Silence followed, one where your smile slowly faltered, and your cheeks to grow red under his unwavering gaze. You adjusted the skirts of your dress nervously as you cleared your throat.

"Queen Lucy was gracious enough to lend me the dress, though I insist in returning it once I am done attending the Ball." You said as a way to start the conversation.

It was then, when your eyes dropped to his chest, that you suddenly realized why the color of your dress had been so familiar.

Every Monarch had their color. For King Peter, it was gold and blue. For Queen Susan it was two different shades of blue. For Queen Lucy it was red and blue. And for King Edmund, it was silver and blue.

The exact shade of the dress you currently wore.

If it didn't mean treason, you would surely kill Queen Lucy for playing such a hand.

"You look beautiful." His words prompted you to meet his gaze, which still hadn't left your face. Skin flushing, you reached up to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Th-thank you. You look good too. Did your sister threaten you into coming in proper attire?"

Edmund rolled his eyes. "She said she would lock me out of the library if I wasn't dressed right." You couldn't help but giggle at his expression.

"May I ask, why you're not out there, dancing?" He asked, moving to stand next to you so that the both of you could look out at the various dancing pairs. You shrugged. "I prefer the company of a select few." He nudged you playfully with his elbow. "I hope I'm included in that list."

You hummed in contemplation. "I believe you are number three. After your sisters." You responded, to which he pressed a hand over his heart. "Your words wound my My Lady. How shall I ever survive your cruel intentions."

This was what you loved liked about Edmund. He was always ready with a joke of some sort. It was rather refreshing, to have a friend who made one laugh.

A comfortable silence settled between the both of you, as you stood there and just watched everyone dance and enjoy themselves.

"Do you remember that day when I found out you were a King?" You suddenly spoke up, your gaze just as soft as your voice as the memory of that day rose to the front of your mind.

Edmund chuckled beside you. "Oh yes, I remember. I was talking to Peter about something, and you saw me." You nodded. "And I came over and ask how close of a friendship you shared with him because you punched him on the shoulder."

Turning your head slightly, you looked at him out of the corner of your eyes. "You decided to have some fun, saying you were quite close. And when I asked how close, you said he was your brother."

Edmund couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing, while you blushed furiously at the remembrance of your embarrassment in that moment. "Your expression was hilarious." He said once he paused for breath. "And then you said but that would make me King. Though I was rather offended you knew that Peter was King."

You scowled at his grinning face. "Thats because I had seen him give a speech in public before. It is hardly my fault that you barely leave your library or your office to go out and meet people."

He made a face. "Now why would I want to do that?" You rolled your eyes at him. "One would think as King, you would prefer to at least show yourself in public sometimes." You reprimanded, prompting Edmund to point a finger at you. "Did Susan tell you to say that? She's always going on and on about how I should spend some time with people so that I don't forget how to talk."

A teasing smile pulled at your lips as you flicked his finger away with your own. "Well she's not wrong. I love reading books just as much as you do, but at least I go out and talk to people."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "I talk plenty. At least with the people who matter." As he said that, his gaze flicked towards you and you smiled, reaching out to loosely loop your arm through his. "I am truly honored to be one of those people."

He smiled, his fingers intertwining with the hand that wrapped around his arm.

"You have no idea how much."

So saying, he brought up the hand he held, and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. And since you'd forgone gloves for the night, you could feel the press of his warm lips against your skin.

Your heart beat rapidly against your chest, and you were sure your cheeks were a permanent shade of pink with how much you were blushing.

Suddenly his eyes lit up, as if he had just remembered something.

And he had.

"I almost forgot! I went down to the beach a few days ago." So saying he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a rather pretty shell. "I found this while I was down there, thought you might like it."

With your free hand you took the shell, examining the pretty colors that nature had painted it with. It was truly beautiful. But that wasn't what you were focusing on.

He'd been at the beach for his own purpose, whatever it had been. But he had thought of you. You were on his mind when he saw the shell. You were who he remembered when he picked it up knowing you would like it.

How could he be so sweet and kind at the same time?

And how, oh how could you not fall in love with him if he were to keep showing you such sweet gestures?

The sight of the shell, and the aftereffects of the conversation you had just had with him, was what compelled you to do what you did next.

It was a simple maneuver really. One that required you to push yourself up on your toes, and tilt you head forward a little bit.

A simple series of movements.

And yet the outcome of it had Edmund's eyes widening as he felt the result of your gesture against his mouth. But it didn't stop there. His entire body stiffened for a brief moment, before he relaxed and tilted his head a little to better return the gesture. The hand that was not gripping yours, came up to rest the tips of his fingers under your chin.

Slowly you pulled back, your eyes opening so you could look at him. He was smiling. He was smiling at you so tenderly that you were sure your heart wouldn't be able to recover from the beauty of it.

Of him.

And his eyes. You actually had to look away because of how intense they were, as if he could see to the very inner most corner of your heart.

The fingers on your chin pressed lightly against your skin, coaxing you to turn your head back.

Edmund couldn't help it. He couldn't help himself and not look at you. He had to look at you.

You with your kind smile and gorgeous eyes. The way your hair would dance in the breeze and your whole face would light up when you talked about something you were passionate about.

Finally, after a few moments of simply looking at one another, he spoke. "You know there have been rumors going around. Rumors saying that I'm courting you."

You pursed your lips to suppress a smile. "I've heard about them, and I don't understand how people would think that." Even as you said it, you couldn't help but smile, knowing exactly why people would think that. He grinned as well, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

"Well how about, we add wood to that fire and play a little game by giving them a little hint every now and then?" He asked, his eyes alight with that spark he got whenever he was thinking of some clever plan that would outwit anyone involved.

Luckily for Edmund, you shared his love of deception and pranks, so you smiled. "I think I would enjoy that."

He laughed softly, before leaning down to press his lips to yours in a brief kiss.

"Though I want you to know, that whatever hint or gesture I may show you, they come from my heart and hold true." He whispered against your lips, prompting you to nod.

"As will mine."

Suffice to say, the next morning, when Edmund kissed you in the open courtyard where a lot of creatures had gathered to clean up after the Ball the night before, the entire castle buzzed with gossip and speculation.

Though one thing was for sure.

In Mrs Beaver's words, the both of you were truly meant to be.

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

POV u gave your s/o a naughty photo book

Seventeen edition

Literally nobody asked for this but the concept has been living in my head rent free so im posting it so you can all suffer with me.

Warnings: suggestive themes throughout, and some mention of orgasms and other sexual topics, this is literally about giving someone a published book of your nudes so minors pls don’t interact. There are no sex acts described.

Seungcheol

It's Seungcheol's birthday, and all of his friends have left. With shaking hands, you had approached him to offer him "the last gift of the evening."

"I'm interested," he said, with one eyebrow raised. He got *that look* in his eyes -- the one where you knew the thoughts in his head were taking a nosedive into sin. You had given him a soft half-smile, the kind you knew made him crazy, before pulling the book out of your purse and handing it to him.

He looks...confused? Upset? It's hard to read his expression as he thumbs through the pages of the *book* you just handed him, his brow furrowed, a broad hand covering his mouth.

After awhile you just can't handle the suspense. "Do you...like it?" you ask him, trying to sound amused, but hearing how worried your voice comes out.

He looks up at you. "I've never seen this set before," he says quietly, gesturing at one of the pages.

You're a nervous wreck at this point — you think he might actually be angry with you — but you also have an inkling that Cheol is just trying to tease you, turn you on…and you have to admit it’s working. He’s got you blushing and stuttering and trying to keep him from being too angry. "It's new," you explain. "I got it for the shoot."

"Hmmm."

Cheol calmly shuts the book, standing up and walking over to you until he's standing directly in front of you. "You're gonna need to come with me," he says, and suddenly he's slinging you over your shoulder like you're Saint Nicholas's sack of toys.

He explains as he walks back to the bedroom with you. "Saying I liked the book is not quite the right word. Not strong enough. It's more like after seeing that book there was only one possible way the rest of this night was gonna go. It's that kind of book." He pauses. "And I'm appalled that this is the first time I'm seeing you in that set. How much time do you have tonight?" he asks.

"I've got all night," you giggle.

"You'd better have the set with you right now," he says as he tosses you onto the bed like a ragdoll. "We're gonna recreate every single pose in that book in person."

Jeonghan

“What is this?” Jeonghan asks you curiously, coming out of the bedroom with a package wrapped in black paper tied with a red bow. His eyebrows shoot upward as your eyes widen.

“That’s one of your birthday presents,” you say, trying to be smooth and failing.

“Huh,” he says, still watching you carefully — one might even say suspiciously. “Can I open it?”

“Is it your birthday?” you reply.

“In a month,” he says, casually slipping the ribbon off the package. “Why’d you get it so early? And why are you acting weird?” He fidgets with the tape in a vaguely threatening manner.

You deflate. “Well…maybe you should just open it now,” you allow, blushing red. “I’m leaving the room, though.”

“Why?” he calls after you. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Yeah,” you admit, flinging yourself onto the bed in the spare room.

"Huh," he says, suspicious. There are soft ripping sounds, and then...

"Holy *shit*," he curses from the other room, softly enough that you can tell he isn't angry, but loud enough for you to hear.

You hear a page being flipped. "Holy shit," he repeats. "Are they all like this?"

"That's the point of the book," you say, dying of embarrassment and shoving your face into a pillow.

"Honey, I'm gonna need you to come here," Jeonghan finally says.

You don't respond. You can hear him coming after you, and you lay still, hoping he'll think you somehow fell asleep in the last 3 seconds.

He doesn't buy it. "Come here, my love," he nearly purrs, his voice soft and tantalizing. "Don't make me beg."

Hesitantly, you turn your body to meet his eyes. He's leaning against the doorframe, and in his gaze is a kind of cat-like, predatory hunger you're not used to seeing on his graceful features.

He beckons you to him with two fingers, and you sit up to join him. In a swift move, he pins you to the doorframe by the neck -- gently enough that you can still breathe, but your knees go weak as you stare him down.

He grins at you wickedly. "This was payback for Cheol's birthday party, wasn't it?" he asks, waving the book in your face. "Well, I've got a couple of ideas for how to even the score once again."

Joshua

"This is a special gift," you say to him, "to commemorate our first Christmas together."

It is Christmas Eve, and you have just returned home from your parents' house, where you've been celebrating all day. You had told him about your family's tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve, and he had agreed to participate. You'd picked your gift first -- it was a locket with his photo in it -- and then asked if you could pick his for him, to which he had agreed with a smile.

He makes a show of shaking the package, his eyes wide in anticipation. "It feels like a kid's picture book," he predicts. He rips the paper off the glossy, pure white cover and looks at you. "What is this?" he asks.

You smirk. "Open it," you say.

He does, and his jaw drops. "Baby," he says softly. "This is...wow." He continues to flip through the pages, looking up at you in open-mouthed awe as he does. "This one? Are you *kidding* me? You look so *good* in these photos!"

Your heart is thumping in your chest, a flush rising in your cheeks from his incessant praise of your lewd photos. "Oh, this one is art," he says, flipping the book around to show you. "Wait, let me show you which one was my favorite." He turns back a couple pages to let you look.

You beam at him. "You like it?"

"I *love* it, baby. Thank you." He pats his thighs, an invitation for you to come to him. And you can't help but listen, because his eyes are shining in those Christmas tree lights and making fireworks erupt in your stomach. You straddle his lap, facing him, as he gently places the book down and winds his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck. "You're so beautiful. That was such a thoughtful gift, and I'm so glad we get to spend Christmas together."

He looks up at you, pushing your hair out of the way so he can see your face better. "Do you *want* one more gift from me?" he asks you carefully.

You laugh. "I want everything you've got, Joshua Hong."

Jun

“I was waiting for a special occasion to do this,” you say. “And I figured getting engaged to you probably qualifies.”

The room is lit up by a million fairy lights strung overhead. Jun is reclined on a huge bean bag, grinning up at you, the glint of his new engagement band in the dim light making you almost dizzy with joy.

A big projector screen is behind you, hooked up to a PowerPoint presentation you’ve displayed on your laptop. The title: 46 Reasons Why I Deserve Multiple Orgasms Tonight.

“Whew,” Jun laughs, looking up at you. “Do I need to hear all 46 to get your point? That’s a lot of reasons.”

“Are you saying you’ll do it?” you ask him.

“Now, hold on,” he says. “I want to see the PowerPoint.” He takes a sip of his champagne. “But you can expect that we probably won’t make it past the 20th reason.”

You shrug. “Fair enough.” You flip to slide one. There’s a QR code there for him to scan, which he promptly does, waiting patiently for it to load.

And when it does, he opens his mouth in awe. It’s a link to your boudoir gallery, and just the first image of you is enough for him to stand up and grab you by the face and start kissing you like he hasn’t seen you for months and he might never see you again, with enough passion that you’re dizzy.

“46 reasons,” he says in your ear as he lifts you up off the ground. “That first picture deserves 46 orgasms all to itself.”

You laugh. “Did you see any of the other 45 pictures?” you ask as he plants kisses all down your neck to your chest.

“Nope, but i think we’ll just have to settle for me being in debt to you for as long as we live,” he says, and fumbles with the buttons of your shirt.

Soonyoung

You’re doing the dishes in your sweats and a sports bra when Soonyoung comes hurtling around the corner in absolutely nothing but boxers and a bathrobe. “Honey?” you say, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“What is this?!” he asks you, his voice an octave higher than it normally is.

Your eyes widen to the size of dinner plates when you see what he’s holding in his hands.

“Oh,” you say. “Um… it was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but then I lost it,” you admit, embarrassed in more than one way, since his birthday was six months ago. “Where did you find it?”

“Never mind that,” he says, waving you off. “We need to talk about how these pictures have made me feel.”

“Do we?” you ask nervously.

He puts the book down on the counter and scoops you into his arms, his hands finding your bare waist. “Weirdly enough, my first thought when I saw those photos is that I don’t want anyone else to ever get to see you like that but me,” he says. He leans down and pecks you on the lips.

You stand on your tiptoes to kiss his nose. “You couldn’t lose me if you tried,” you tell him, tracing a hand down his chest and over his abs before you slide your arms all the way around his waist.

“I think we should get married,” he says, and you freeze.

“Really?” you finally say after a long while. “If that’s all it took, I would have done a boudoir shoot ages ago.”

Wonwoo

You’re standing in the doorway, hesitating. Wonwoo hasn’t spotted you yet - he’s busy playing a computer game, his mouse clicking at furious speeds. You can tell he’s engrossed, and decide to come back later, but just as you’re leaving, he calls your name. “Don’t go,” he says. “I’ll be done in a second.”

True to his word, half a minute later he removes his headset to turn and look at you with a smile. Your new relationship is still a little foreign to both of you, and the sudden fear of rejection is strong as you consider what you’re about to do.

“Hey, honey,” he says, reaching for you and pulling you into his lap, where you wordlessly bring your hands from behind you to in front of you, revealing the book. “What’s this?”

You take a deep breath. “Are you gonna laugh at me?” you ask him seriously.

“Only if you’re funny,” he replies.

You open to the first page. “I got them done a little bit ago and just got them back,” you say quietly. “I…wanted to show you.”

He looks up at you, his gaze curious. “Did you do these for me?” he asks, thumbing through the pages.

“Actually,” you say honestly, “I did them for me. We weren’t together yet. And I hadn’t been feeling very good about myself, so I did these. And it actually gave me the courage to talk to you.”

He’s silent for a minute, drinking in the sight of you on every page. Then — “they’re beautiful. *You’re* beautiful.” He gently presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Thank you.”

He throws the book onto the bed behind you and pulls you in so you’re fully facing him, straddling his lap. He reaches for you, kissing you like you’re air and he’s drowning, trying to tell you without words just what he meant when he said you were beautiful.

Jihoon

You’re relaxing on the couch after a long day, and Jihoon has just come over to you, wordlessly positioning himself on top of you and resting a head on your chest. You run your fingers through his fluffy hair and press a quick kiss to his forehead, using your other hand to scratch small shapes into his back.

You love that he’ll do this with you — you know he’s a bit shy about touch because of how it was when you’d first started dating, but you admire the progress five years, a marriage, and a whole child between you can make.

“Is she asleep?” you ask him now, and he nods against your chest.

“Just needed a brief daddy visit,” he says, yawning. “Oooh, I’m tired.”

“Can I wake you up?” you ask him softly.

He pushes himself up onto his forearms so he can look at you. “I’m listening,” he says casually, but his eyes are eager.

You laugh at how cute he is, and he grins. “Well,” you start, “I know we’ve both been busy lately…you know, with work and keeping a tiny human alive, and I wanted to do something special to reconnect.”

He sits up then, facing you on the couch. “Go on,” he invites.

You reach down and grab the book from under the couch. Jihoon watches you curiously, still looking at you as you hand it to him. “What is this?” he asks you.

“Open it,” you say with a mischievous look in your eyes.

He does, and he gasps. “Oh,” he says, and a blush heats his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you on the glossy pages — in the black velvet lingerie set he got you for Christmas last year.

He keeps looking from you to the book. “What are you thinking about?” you ask him, your soft voice making him shiver.

“I’m thinking about how I’ve seen you like this several times,” he says quietly as he flips through the pages, “and I’m still not sick of it.”

“That lingerie set was an investment,” you agree, and he smiles at you broadly.

He places the book down. “What are the odds you’re wearing it right now under your clothes?”

You laugh. “Why don’t you come find out?”

Minghao

“Remember those photos I took that one time?” you ask him while the both of you are sitting opposite each other on the couch, a mess of limbs tangled together.

“I think I’m gonna need you to be just a little more specific,” he says.

“The ones you encouraged me to take when I wasn’t feeling very good about my body.”

“Oh, those photos,” he says. “I remember them *and* what we did after.”

You blush. “I’m sure you do,” you say. “Well, I just got them back. Wanna see them?”

“Of course I do,” he says, reaching across the couch for your phone.

You hand it to him and watch as he scrolls through the gallery, his expression growing gradually more proud and impressed.

“Baby, these are amazing. Killer editing, and a perfect model.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to minimize your feelings, but it’s pretty incredible that someone who looks like you can think you aren’t beautiful.”

“Really?” you ask him with a smile.

“Really,” he says. “Come here, sit by me.”

You obey, relaxing your head onto his chest. He kisses your forehead before continuing. “You know I have an eye for beautiful things. I love art, and I love to look at things that have the power to move your emotions. I mean, I’ve seen statues of the goddess Aphrodite in person. And yet the best thing I’ve ever seen is still your naked body. So it’s pretty crazy that you’re better than every piece of art I’ve ever seen and you sometimes still can’t see that.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him, and he kisses your nose, sending your heart into flips. “Well, I’m not saying that repeating the post-photoshoot activities would help me feel validated, but…” you say, trailing off.

Minghao gets the hint instantly, climbing on top of you and pressing his lips to yours. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he says between kisses.

Mingyu

“Uhhh…Gyu?” you say, poking his arm. “You haven’t moved a muscle in like…fifteen minutes. Are you okay?”

He doesn’t respond, so you come around to his side of the bed. His eyes are fixated on the book in his hand. You know what’s happening now, and you kneel down in front of him, prying the book from his fingers. “Gyu, baby, look at me,” you say gently.

He meets your eyes with awe. “How?” is the only thing he says.

“How what, honey?” you ask him.

He clears his throat, shaking himself. He cups your face in his hands. “How did you take those photos without me noticing?” he asks in a strangled voice.

“It was literally so hard,” you admit. “Thank goodness for remotes so I could do them myself. It was a couple weeks ago while you were gone.”

“They’re edited in my style, too,” he says breathlessly. “The things you do to me.” He leans back, letting his eyes roam over your body, in a tight black dress you had planned on wearing out to your anniversary dinner. You stand up and lean toward him.

“Would you like dinner or dessert first?” you murmur to him.

He grins, a slow grin that lets you know he’s debating. “Hmm…let’s still go to dinner. It’ll give you time for me to let you imagine what I’m going to do to you when we get back.”

Seokmin

You are both already undressed down to your underwear and kissing ferociously when the doorbell rings. The two of you look at each other in a panic before standing up and throwing on bathrobes, giggling. Your heartbeat is in your throat as you look out the peephole and see a package on the porch.

“It was just the delivery guy,” you whisper back to Seokmin, who’s in the hallway looking dazed in his silky robe.

“Then come back here,” he begs you. “You’re driving me insane.”

But something is telling you to grab the package first. You slip your hand out the door and slide it inside, inspecting the address on the front.

Your eyes light up with recognition and you run to hand the package to Seokmin. He gives you a questioning glance. “Why?” He simply asks.

“Trust me, you’re gonna want to see that before we go any further.”

His eyebrows shoot up as he rips the package open. They widen as he opens the first page of the book. And with every photo he sees, you can feel the tension in the room boiling hotter. He’s grinning. “Oh, *honey*,” he says.

“Just for you,” you say, lightly dragging your nails over his shoulder blades.

His eyes roll back, and he shudders, smiling blissfully. “Cancel your meetings for today. You won’t be coming to work.”

You laugh. “Why not?”

“You won’t be able to walk after I’m done with you,” he says, pulling you into his arms and picking right back up where you left off.

Seungkwan

“Gosh, seriously…” he mutters under his breath, over the phone with you. You’re just a city away while he’s filming, but it is your birthday, and he feels terrible for missing it.

“It’s okay, love,” you reassure him. “We can celebrate tomorrow.”

“But you got *me* a gift?” He asks you incredulously. “For your birthday? Who does that?”

“I do!” You reply with a giggle, and he nearly curses at his phone again.

“I miss you too much,” he says.

“You won’t have to for much longer,” you say, and just then someone hands him the package you sent him on set.

“Do *not* open it around anyone,” you warn him.

“Okay,” he agrees, shutting himself in the bathroom. You can hear the sounds of him unwrapping the book.

And then he moans.

And then you hear what sounds like…clapping?

And then his voice is in your ear again. “Baby,” he groans.

“Umm…hello?” you ask, one part amused, one part worried.

“I’m here,” he says in a choked voice. “But I’m about to come home.”

“No, wait, you have to stay!!” you say, panicking.

“Like hell I do,” he retorts. You hear him leave the bathroom, hear him shout to the room, “I’ve just come down with a terrible bout of IBS, and I’m leaving!”

“You still there?” he says, and it sounds like he’s running.

“Yes?” you ask, torn between laughing and scolding him.

“I’ll be there before you know it, and you’d better be prepared for a long talk.”

The way he says “talk” makes it clear that very little will need to be said.

Vernon

He’s so mild-mannered that you’re hoping the photo book will do it for him. You’re hoping he won’t just say, “that’s nice, love,” as he peers with a clinical gaze at your lewd photos.

And you aren’t disappointed. Because while Vernon isn’t loud, his facial expressions certainly are. His jaw drops comically when he opens the book to a full page, practically nude photo of you. And he just keeps on getting more and more flustered, blushing harder and harder, and saying “damn, baby! These are *gorgeous*.”

He takes his time working his way through the book - stopping to trace the outline of your body on the page, in a way that makes you blush as though he’s doing it for real. “I love this color on you,” he exclaims, holding up a photo of you in an electric purple bra.

“Thank you,” you say, holding your hands up to your red cheeks.

He laughs. “Are you embarrassed?”

You giggle a bit. “Yeah, a little,” you admit. “The shoot, the book… it was all kind of a bold move.”

He nods, looking proudly down at the photo book. “Yeah, it was, baby. Don’t be embarrassed. I love it.”

He stands up and pulls you into a huge hug, resting his head on top of yours. When he pulls away, he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “While we’re making bold moves,” he says softly, bringing your mouth up to his for a kiss. And then, completely uncharacteristically of him, he lifts you off your feet into his arms to continue kissing.

Chan

You come home to see Chan pawing through a book laying stomach down on the couch. Every turn of the page, he erupts into quiet laughter and kicks his feet.

“What on earth are you reading?” you ask him, putting your keys in the dish and moving toward him to get a peek.

And then you gasp. “What are you doing with that?” you ask him, your face a mask of horror as you try to snatch it from him.

“This is for me, right?” he says, fending you off easily with one arm. “What’s the occasion?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you grumble, giving up on the snatching as Chan pins you to his side. “No occasion, I just…thought you’d like it.”

“You thought right,” he says. “This is great.” He kisses you on your cheek. “I have a question, though.”

“Ask away,” you say.

“Did you feel like you had to do this, or did you want to?” He sounds genuinely concerned. This is one of the things you love so much about him — he asks you all of your thoughts and doesn’t seem to mind any of the answers you give, so you know you can always tell him exactly what’s on your mind.

“I wanted to,” you assure him. “It’s just, you’re gone so often, and I wanted you to feel like you didn’t have to miss seeing me…well. Seeing me like this, I guess.”

He slowly leans backward until he’s holding you on top of him. “I am gone a lot,” he agrees thoughtfully.

“You are.”

“But I’m here now,” he finishes.

Your gaze drops to his lips and then back up to his eyes. “You are here now,” you repeat.

“So,” he says, a question trailing at the end of his thought, one he won’t ask out loud.

You kiss him before he knows what’s coming.

[alexa-fika]

Guide in the Darkness (Smoker x f!blind!child!reader x Fujitora)

A/N This is for the Anon that asked for toph!reader and I completely butcher the request so bad that I deleted it within the hour. Also sorry for the lack of uploads, got off a plane and have been unpacking since, and I start work tommorow but I will try to still upload daily!

Dividers by @/saradika

The muscular man sighs as he hears another crash coming from his daughter's quarters, opening the door, he glances at a vase smashed on the floor.

“Thought I told you to stop breaking things on purpose,” he grumbles, blowing out the smoke from his cigars in a thick cloud

“This is so stupid! I can’t do anything, Dad! The moment im on a boat, I’m so useless! “She screams, slowly sinking down to the ground and sobbing

A heavy sigh of irritation escapes Smoker's lips as he drops to his knees before his daughter, kneeling to the same level as her. A heavy hand touches her shoulder in a reassuring manner. A warm and kind gesture, but his face remains straight.

“And destroying your furniture will fix that; how?”

“Shut up! Shut up, just shut up!”

Smoker lets out another sigh as his cigar puffs out more smoke, and a heavy eyebrow raises at her harsh tone. His face is stern, but a certain tenderness behind his eyes is revealed when he speaks to his daughter

She pushes his shoulder away, but Smoker just grabs her with his other arm again.

"Is that so?" Smoker responds simply. Silence fell after he spoke those words, neither of them saying anything nor moving from their positions.

“I’m sorry…” she mutters

Another gentle sigh escapes his lips as she does this. His rough exterior fades for a moment as he speaks to her. His eyes no longer piercing through her own, now much more warm and kind.

"It okay,” he grunts

“Come with me; I have someone I want you to meet.”

She dries her tears slowly, standing up

“Who is it?”

"Just follow me." He rises back to his feet, the same look in his eyes once more as he holds out his hand for her to take.

He guides her off the boat, where they walk for a while until they reach an office within some Marine headquarters, closing the door behind them once she is inside.

"My, my, what a young beauty she is, Smoker..." Fujitora said kneeling in front of Reader.

“You must be around ten right now aren’t you”, smiling as a small affirmation leaves the girl.

“Last time, you were but a baby." The blind admiral grins, tapping the end of his cane against the ground.

"I am Issho; many people call me Fujitora; however, you may do so too if you so desire.”

“Umm, hi,” she mutters, hiding behind her father’s legs

“She’s just a little timid” Smoker remarks as he turns to Issho, nodding slowly at him.

A small gesture, as always, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder.

“Why are we here?” she mumbles

The tall man sighs once again and moves closer to his daughter.

He crouches down to her level again and takes hold of her shoulders with both hands.

"Reader, the man standing there, he is a Marine like me. And he is also blind.”

Reader stills at that and turns around towards Fujitora, using her devil fruit to locate him easily

“You’re also blind?”

Issho smiles widely, putting his cane down on the ground as his eyes shine.

"Yes, I am."

The admiral's smile fades as an eyebrow arches. A small hand finds its way into his and is immediately swallowed into his hand like a grain of sand.

"I don't believe I've ever met a child with a devil fruit, let alone a logia type." He chuckles softly

“Mind telling me what you are capable of?

“I...I use it to sense everything around me,to ‘see,’ but I can only do that when im on land; when I go on the ship with Dad, I become useless.”

Smoker's face softens once more as she explains herself to his coworker

"I am sorry to hear you feel useless when you cannot sense anything. However, I can assure you that you are not. It is simply a limitation that you have, but I believe you can overcome it. Do you want to know a secret?" Fujitora asks her

She nods timidly but remembers that the man before her had the same affliction as her

“Y-Yeah”

"You are more than just a devil fruit. No matter what you may lack, you still have feelings, a will of your own, and loved ones. Those things are the most important part of being human. Never forget that, young one. We should meet up later so I can discuss your training a little more in-depth. I promise you that we will find a way to make you feel more confident in yourself. Just don't give up, and never lose sight of the truly important things. I know it’s scary to be truly blind in an already dark world, but I promise you, you will get through this; I will help you.”

She stares at the man before her for a minute, tears starting to fall from her eyes as she sniffles, nodding her head

“Thank you,” she cries hugging him

Smoker smiles as her daughter embraces Fujitora , finally finding a mentor she can relate to

“Thank you,” he grumbles to Fujitora

Fujitora nods his head, his expression remaining stoic despite the kindness and affection being shown towards him

"No need to thank me. If I can do anything at all to help her overcome these struggles, it is my duty as her mentor, after all. I must prepare her to be the very best marine that she can be, even if that means I have to make some special arrangements for her."

“Mentor?”

“Fujitora is gonna teach you how to use and master Kenbunshoku Haki,” Smoker said, blowing smoke from his cigars once again

“…I have not mastered the use of it; it will help you ‘see’ even without your devil fruit, so you will be able to find your way even when you are not on land,” he finishes, taking another puff

She grins, turning around towards her dad and jumping into his arms

“Thank you, Dad! For always helping me and not giving up.”

Smoker remains silent for a moment, as if surprised by his daughter's sudden affection toward him. He then wraps his arms around her and pulls her in tight. It’s the fondness for her was clear, although his usual reserved and aloof demeanor din’t really allow for much overt affection

"You're welcome. Should we head out? I think you’ll have a busy day tomorrow.”

She nods, turning her head back to Fujitora

“Bye-bye Fujitora! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Funitora nods, smiling at her genuinely way before saying goodbye

"Farewell, little one, you were a pleasure to meet. Rest assured that you are in the best of hands."

This is much better, sorry y’all it was killing me inside that I made such a bad piece to the point of having to delete it and deleting a request by doing so.

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

[pumpkins-journal]

✮ When He Smiles ✮

gn!reader x choso (can be platonic or pre-relationship)

You're curious about how the man could be so expressive, and yet... (Pure fluff n vibes)

inspired by that one panel of embarrassed choso and the thought of him sending dog stickers w a straight face just tickles me

also posting this on mobile bc im impatient so sorry its a bit ugly looking aUGH i might fix it when i get home (update i fixed it a lil)

Choso was an enigma to you. When you talk to him he'd have an aura of indifference about everything around him. He always seemed so… detached. Even with pestering his dear half-brother to call him big brother, the only semblance of excitement he'd show was a slight pitch in tone laced with a firm insistence.

Which is why you'd be caught off guard when you’d start communicating via text. You’d double-take at the cute emojis attached to his messages, the occasional puppy stickers meeting your gaze. 

you: choso is that a dog choso: Yes. Yuji taught me how to send these stickers. Do you like them? you: yea i do! choso: I'm glad. I'll be sure to keep using them then. 😄 choso: He also taught me how emojis work.

It was especially curious when you’d find yourself looking over his shoulder, watching him respond to his little brother in the same manner- emojis, stickers and all- and your eyes would trail up to see that same deadpanned look on his face. Once he returned your gaze, you leaned back, face warm with embarrassment.

“Ah, sorry. Was I too close?” you asked. 

“No, you’re fine.” Choso shook his head before showing his screen. “Yuji was showing me a trailer for a movie he'd like to see. It's supposed to be about the lives of people, their relationship with the creatures in their world and teamwork.” You looked down at the screen, watching a scene of a young boy with a small yellow mouse-like creature.

“I think I may like this one. He reminds me of Yuji.”

You couldn't help but smile at this.

“You really love your brother, huh?”

“I do.” he lowered the phone as the video played. “I love all of my brothers equally and as deeply. As the oldest, it's my duty to protect them and care for them.”

“Hmm.” you mused as you sat next to him while he replied to the messages. You stared out into the fields before you and leaned back, the silence keeping you company.

“Hey, Choso?”

“Hm?”

You tapped your finger against the bench, trying to form the question in your head.

“I've noticed that you don't… really emote much? Not outside of fighting, I mean. Not that that's a bad thing! I was just curious.”

“Hm.”

The silence made you acutely aware of an uncomfortable pit in your stomach, already regretting asking a question that probably drew more attention to how different he was.

Something you already know he struggles with.

“Hey, uh, you don't have to answer–”

“I'm not the best at expressing myself.”

You paused, tilting your head at him in surprise. His face was still focused on the screen.

“Emotions are draining. It takes so much energy to smile, to cry, to laugh. I can feel it all, and I embrace it– it helps me feel the slightest bit human, but it's hard to convey that. I'm aware oftentimes it makes me come across as uncaring, so I'm thankful for learning about emojis and stickers. Hopefully they can get across my feelings better when I talk to others.”

He turned to you, head tilted ever so slightly.

“Sorry if you’ve been uncomfortable all this time.”

“What- no!” You waved a hand. “It’s not a big deal, I was just curious! It kinda makes sense in a way, lots of people are like that.”

“..Are they?” You didn't miss how his eyes widened just a touch at this. You nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, some people can speak their mind, while others struggle. It's just a part of being human, I think. It doesn't make you weird or anything like that! Y'know, Nanami also tends to be straight faced, it adds to his vibe.”

“Yes, but I'm also aware that his 'vibes' make him incompatible outside of sorcery work. He doesn't seem to like to entertain Yuji or the other children when they're having fun, unlike Gojo.”

“What, do you wanna be like Gojo then?”

You watched as his face scrunched up in response, the line across his nose becoming uneven.

“I would rather be exorcised, actually.”

You paused at this before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Choso watched as joyful tears rolled down your cheeks, grin stretching from ear to ear. The mark on his nose settled into a warmer, more bubby form as a gentle smile appeared on his face.

A smile that you caught as you opened your eyes, your heart skipping a beat.

“..Hey, Choso?”

“Mh-hm?”

Your smile softened as well, cheeks tingling from your earlier outburst.

“You have a very handsome smile.”

The male tensed at this, covering his face as he turned away. You grinned at his bashfulness, nudging him slightly.

“Oh, c'mon! Can't take a compliment?” you teased, watching his ears turn a few shades darker. He tried to shoo you away with his free hand, only succeeding in making your playful bullying more insistent.

Expressionless or not, you knew that when Choso felt things, he felt them with everything he had.

That being said, you made sure to treasure the memory of his smile for the rest of your days, a rare treat for you and you only.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

21 Questions

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: Cheating, alludes to sex but nothing direct, cussing

Off schedule, I know, but

I wish there was a situation to be mad at

Or a person I could blame

I've got a loud mouth, I'm pale with a ghost obsession,

But behind the scenes with her I'm playing 21 Questions

There's gotta be a reason

You keep your guy in hiding

I'm becoming what I've hated

But your talk is so inviting

You were dating Harry. You really shouldn't have been as enticing to Theo as you were. You were taken.

But after sitting next to you in class one day and you were assigned to work with the person sitting next to you, he spoke with you for the first time and he was a goner. The way you spoke, your voice, your mannerisms, Merlin, he could listen to you for hours and never get bored.

So, of course, he got your number. For the class, of course. Nothing more. The texts about the assignments were purely for academic reasons. I mean, of course he knew the answers to the questions he was asking you, he was just testing you. Like a study session. Over text. With someone he was maybe developing a crush on. But that's irrelevant. It was all for school. Not to just talk to you.

And neither were his questions during class itself. Still purely academic and friendly when he joked with you in class to hear your laugh and see your smile. He just didn't wanna be a rude classroom neighbor. That's all. 

But then what?

You drop your guy and take me on,

It's everything I wanted,

But then what?

Would you get tired of my time?

My mood's dictated by our conversations,

And if you don't text I get too frustrated

I want you all to myself this time

Conflicted looks good on me

I'm trying desperately

I want you all to myself this time

He would never dream of you leaving Potter for him. He didn't dream of how your lips would feel against his, or your hands on him, or how warm and soft your skin would feel against his.

That'd be wrong of him. As much as he despises the boy, he couldn't imagine taking away his partner. Right?

And it most certainly didn't upset him when he texted you and you took a while to respond because he would be imagining you with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend that wasn't him. Your boyfriend that could hold you and kiss you and-

Oh. You responded.

I never have to

Carefully shape sentences

When I've got some words to say,

They're falling from my mouth from the time

That they hit my brain

'Cause we built a picture made for frames

We live in chemistry away from all the wasted time and taste

He managed to become your friend so easily, it could make him laugh. Your boyfriend and him hated each other, but yet, they both loved you so much. Of course, your boyfriend warned you about him and tried to get you to stop talking to him, but you shut that down quick, telling him to stop being controlling.

You asked Theo to go to Hogsmeade with you one weekend since Harry was going to be with his friends and Theo agreed eagerly. You two walked around the shops and bought things and played in the snow outside.

He couldn't ignore how cute you looked making snow angels with him and his body was moving faster than his brain. His brain only caught up once his lips connected to yours and he pulled back, mumbling apologies. But you cut him off by kissing him again.

But then what?

You dropped your guy and took me on,

It's everything I wanted,

But then what?

Would you get tired of my time?

My mood's dictated by our conversations,

And if you don't text I get too frustrated

I want you all to myself this time

Conflicted looks good on me

I'm trying desperately

I want you all to myself this time

Luckily for you two, no one saw the kiss, but you felt guilty. Especially when you were still kissing Theo when no one was looking. When his hands would roam over your body. When he laid you down in his bed and kissed every inch of skin he could get to. When you looked in the mirror the next morning and saw his marks on you under your clothes.

You broke it off with Harry. You never said why, but you're pretty sure he caught on when he saw you kissing Theo only a few days later.

Theo was over the moon to have you for himself. He was happy to get to touch you and kiss you without having to know he was sharing you with Harry.

But then he got a nagging feeling after a few weeks. If you could cheat on Harry, then you could with him. Someone else could charm you behind his back and take you away from him just like he did to Harry.

We built a picture made for frames

We live in chemistry away from all the wasted time and taste

And it sucks to sleep

'Cause you aren't talking to me

I wanna give you space

But the amount between us is wrecking me

This caused some fights with him. Your relationship was great otherwise. You liked him a lot, you were super affectionate together and could talk and joke about anything. So why was he starting problems that didn't exist?

You told him you need a break after another month of this back and forth. He agreed to it because he was mad in the moment. He hated seeing you in classes and around the castle, but he knew he'd make it worse going to you and disrespecting your space.

He missed your texts. He missed your kisses. He missed your touch. And your scent. And your laugh. He'd do anything to hear your laugh again.

But then what?

You dropped your guy and took me on,

It's everything I wanted,

But then what?

Would you get tired of my time?

'Cause then what?

You dropped your guy and took me on,

It's everything I wanted,

But then what?

Would you get tired of my time?

'Cause then what?

You dropped your guy and took me on,

It's everything I wanted,

But then what?

Am I in his position now?

'Cause then what?

You dropped your guy and took me on,

It's everything I wanted,

But then what?

Would you get tired of my time?

Even with him missing you, though, he couldn't shake that feeling away. What if you got bored of him? What if someone better comes along? What if you just cheat on him?

You did it to someone else before, you can do it again. He can't predict that.

And while he was stressing about that, you were upset at him for thinking you would do something like that to him. You weren't even thinking about other guys. You were thinking about him and how he made you happy when he wasn't doubting you.

Did you cheat on Harry for him? Yes. Does that make you feel insanely guilty? Yes. Would you ever even dream of cheating on Theo? No. He's made you happier than you felt in a long time. Happier than Harry made you feel. He made you feel appreciated and adored and loved. And you want to make sure he feels the same from you.

My mood's dictated by our conversations,

And if you don't text I get too frustrated

I want you all to myself this time

Conflicted looks good on me

I'm trying desperately

I want you all to myself this time

I'll forget you if you need me to,

Like nothing ever happened

My sun still sets without you,

Like nothing ever happened

“Can we please talk?” One simple sentence. But Theo had yet to press send on the text, wanting to give you the space you needed. Fuck it. He hated having you be mad at him and just wanted to sort this out. He finally hit send and watched for you to respond. When you didn't for a few hours, he had another ‘fuck it’ moment and went to your dorm. You opened the door and any angry feelings disappeared when he saw you. He hugged you before you had a chance to react saying a quiet ‘I miss you.’ in your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo.

He went on a small spiel about how he's bad with emotions and he just got scared of losing you, but he understands if you're still mad and will go fuck off if you asked him to. 

You could feel his whole body relax when he heard you laugh at the last part.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@call-me-mishi @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @brittney-121 @leovaldezsbitch

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddleluvbot @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu @prettypinkprincess15 @starryslytherin0

@jolly4holly @st0n3dbarbi3 @kurumbukaari @whydoireadanymore

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[i-am-the-oyster]

ALBUMS

Where's The Beef?

According to the man himself, Paul can bash out a song in the time it takes Linda to whip up a soyasome supper. But is this necessarily a good thing?

By Chris Ingham. Illustration by Richard Camps.

Paul McCartney

Flaming Pie PARLOPHONE

McCartney sans band again. Self-penned, played and produced, apart from contributions by Jeff Lynne, Ringo Starr, Steve Miller and son James McCartney.

I'VE STOPPED TRYING TO JUSTIFY LOVING solo McCartney. Of course some of the work of the last 27 years has been slack and misjudged. Yes, his trust in stream-of-consciousness and the inspiration of the moment ("If you're working too hard on something, it probably means its not very good") has left a catalogue with at least as much eccentric, cavalier material as substantial. But if you respond to someone, you respond. A lot of minor McCartney means as much to me as the major. The aloof will sigh; we expect more from a pop giant.

But there is more - the gargantuan Liverpool Oratorio has its moments, his minimalist-impressionist chamber piano piece A Leaf is a charmer, the forthcoming Standing Stones symphony is an intriguing prospect - it's just that these days, pop is only part of what he does. In pop, he's changed the world already, he's had his purple patch, and he hasn't had another genius to run his new songs by for quite a while; that can do things to a man's quality control.

However, though less spectacularly ambitious than the serious work, there is much to be enjoyed here. The indisputable melodic flair, the uplifting, doe-eyed optimism, the daft rockers, all here on Flaming Pie, an album in the McCartney tradition of pretty good, nudging upper middle. If you're hip to him, that's all you'll need.

Though not reaching the coherent, miraculous heights of Band On The Run (1973), it's miles better than the interminable live albums or his last, the heart-sinkingly ordinary Off The Ground ('93). Better, too, than the aberration of Give My Regards To Broad Street ('84) and the not-as-bad-as-you've-heard Press To Play ('86). So, it's probably on a par with Flowers In The Dirt ('89) which, though lauded at the time as a major return to form (prompted, no doubt, by the red herrings that were the awkward McCartney-McManus collaborations), now seems no better/no worse than the slick, unfailingly tunesome Tug Of War ('82) or Pipes Of Peace ('83).

What noses Flaming Pie ahead of the pack, however, is a return to the engaging home-made quality of his earliest solo work. Back in do-it-your-self, down-home primitive miniaturist mode, back on deep-groove drums and bluesy guitar, there are echoes of McCartney (1970) and Ram (1971) here, and it all has an authentic ring of auteur about it. It's not that Beatley, but it's very McCartney.

Some of it is positively reckless, there's a determination to follow the mood, have a laugh, see what happens. Three songs here are little more than jams. Flaming Pie was a self-imposed challenge to finish a track with Jeff Lynne in four hours (like you do). Funny, surreal lyrics, a cracking 3 Legs-type vocal, a thunderous Why Don't We Do It In The Road/Don't Bring Me Down groove and some hilarious, cack-handed barrel-house piano; this is the track I'm playing visitors.

Ringo and Paul lock into a super-taut, muscled riff on Really Love You and McCartney makes up the song as he goes (like Mumbo from Wild Life but with words); mad, indulgent, but kind of happening. Only the duet with Steve Miller on a slinky Texas 12-bar palls. Two minutes of this good-vibe, one-take blues would have been a treat, four minutes feels like eight.

Interspersing this japery is good and OK Macca fare made better, perhaps, by co-producer Jeff Lynne's ear for detail on over half the tracks. There are no obvious ELO/Wilbury mannerisms and, oddly, the ones that sound most like Lynne don't involve him (both the strangely sinister If You Wanna and lightweight, damnably catchy Young Boy - the one he completed in a couple of hours while Linda was tinkering in the kitchen - feature orchestras of acoustic guitars), though the dry-as-a-bone sound and upfront vocals elsewhere betray Lynne's welcome presence.

Track Listing

The Song We Were Singing

The World Tonight

Somedays

If You Wanna

Young Boy

Calico Skies Flaming Pie

Heaven On A Sunday

Used To Be Bad Souvenir

Little Willo w

Really Love You Beautiful Night

Great Day

The Song We Were Singing is a vivid evocation of an evening with friends in the '60s; the sweet, hazy vocal, the trippy twang of the guitar, the struggle to make "...discuss the vast intricacies of life" scan, the soaring, singalong chorus all combine to give the track an enchanting, stoned elegance. Heaven On A Sunday is prime, dreamy Macca with gorgeously textured sound. It also features his son's debut as Dad trades his Oo You guitar licks with 20-year-old James McCartney's Dave Gilmour ones. Souvenir is an oddball beauty; a soulful, lazy thing with a surprise guitar-riff-from-hell and a psychedelic fade. This is all very encouraging, Lynne appears to have helped McCartney sound more like himself, somehow. To be continued, hopefully.

There are three finger-pickin' solo numbers. Calico Skies is an earnest little love song which develops into an anti-war prayer. Somedays is a portentous song of doubt, always threatening to mean something, beautifully decorated by George Martin's arrangement. Great Day manages to allude metrically to the Vincent Youmans's 1930 standard of the same title and melodically to McCartney's own Big Barn Bed in a sweet, throwaway piece of unfeasible optimism. They ain't Blackbird, but they're fine.

It must be noted that the man's singing is a marvel. The grey-around-the-edges folk-balladeering of Calico Skies, the falsetto blues-croon of Heaven On A Sunday, the deliriously uninhibited rock-shriek of Really Love You re-confirm that McCartney's vocal-style range is without equal in pop. Sinatra's pipes had virtually cracked at 55. What is this guy on?

"No sleepless nights over this one," he told Steve Miller. What with the serious stuff people keep asking him to write, who can blame him? Making this will have been a holiday by comparison.

The World's Greatest Living Melodist crown must lay heavy; here McCartney is sporting his Eccentric Primitive Miniaturist colours. Flaming Pie is a fine reminder of how much they suit him.

Paul McCartney talks to Chris Ingham live from his car somewhere in the great British countryside.

Flaming Pie. Pleased with it?

Yeah, like it a lot actually. It's always good when you're proud of what you've done, because when you're not you're always moaning at the record company about how they don't put posters up, or how they don t get plays and all that. But I sort of don't care. Even if radio doesn't take to it, posters don't get put up and people don't say the right things, I've got a feeling that because I like it, I don't give a shit. I'm not sure that's 100 per cent true but the feeling's there. It feels good. I'm comfortable; there's a lot to be said for that.

Don't you feel like this after each new record?

No, not really. You always enjoy like having a new baby, as it were, but this one feels a bit special. It's like Anthology, people would ask, "Are you worried? Should you have done it? Is it right to do Free As A Bird?" I would say to them, listen, once The Beatles and George Martin have signed off on it, I always get a great feeling that it doesn't really matter what anyone thinks, we're a sufficiently cool enough gang of dudes, it's a question of sod the rest of them. I always used to get that feeling on Beatles albums; hey, it's The Beatles, we all like it, that's a pretty strong opinion.

It's not as easy to get that on my solo records because it's mainly me. I don't have the strength of the Woolwich around me. But on this one, there wasn't much pressure because the record people said, "We don't actually need a record from you for a while, so l started making music just for my own fun.

I think I've given the Anthology a decent interval, my stuff is suddenly ready, asked Linda if she had any photos, she had a great little selection, banged it together and it all suddenly seemed to work and it was, "Oh, there you go.

And I've told the marketing guys, "I don't want any sweat on this record, I don't care if you don't come up with a good idea, we're just gonna have a laugh." It's funny, they don't know where you're coming from, they re so used to that 'gotta get it right, get the right image desperation. Whereas I'm saying it'd be nice, but it's only a record. It really does cool things down.

One big thing with The Beatles, once in the early days we broke down on the motorway going back up to Liverpool in the severe winter, somewhere. One of us said, "Oh, what are we going to do now?" and another said, "Well, something'll happen." And it sounded so naive, we all laughed, "Yeah, something'll happen." Immediately a lorry came up and said, "Wanna lift, lads?" We all piled in. I'm a great believer in that "something'll happen" syndrome. It's like if you allow that space, that bit of peace in your mind, something sort of comes in to fill it. It's all very metaphysical.

You've said, "Songwriting's like the thumb in the mouth." It's interesting that through a worrying time with Linda being ill, you've made an upbeat kind of record. Is there a connection?

Yes, I think there is. When you have a major problem like that, it focuses what's important. I know everyone says that but it really does. For me, my family comes first, and a close second is music and working. I think it stopped me pissing around. I might have made a record and thought, Oh that's OK. But with that and having just done Anthology I thought, No I'm gonna make sure I'm happy with every song on this album. I don't want to waste time. I think that's the main force. If you're just breezing along you can think, Aah I've got forever, it's all great - you can find yourself wasting time. And also having looked at The Beatles albums and running your finger down the tracklist and it's Nowhere Man, Here There And Everywhere, Taxman, bang, bang, bang, every single one is a song you remember. I thought, I'm gonna make an album like that. I sorted a lot of songs and didn't bother with things I was in doubt about. So the whole episode focused me up quite a bit.

You've admitted in the past to feeling daunted by the Beatles' achievements, yet all this full-on Beatlosity of the past 18 months or so seems to have spurred you on.

Yeah well, the sort of plan was to take a holiday. But I'd just be sitting around with my acoustic, writing a song in a power cut in America, played it to a few people and it's "Ooh yeah, that's a good 'un." So I started stockpiling a few with nothing in mind, stuck 'em on a cassette and called them New Songs. Suddenly I had a lot of them. Called Steve Miller, who I'd known and played with once in the '60s after a Beatle session which was aborted because of, ahem, business differences. God, I've just come across a big field full of sheep here. Amazing. But I digress... I'd say to Steve, "look we don't need to get into heavy breathing, let's just knock it off", the way we did that track of his, My Dark Hour. He'd invited me up to his studio in Sun Valley, Idaho, did a track. Returned the hospitality, knocked off a couple more.

You're working with Jeff Lynne again. He'd passed the Free As A Bird test then?

Yeah, that was the audition (laughs). He was sort of George's boyfriend, if you know what I mean, and, you know, you don't want to tread on people's toes. But I'd enjoyed working with him and found him really easy to get on with, we always had a laugh. And I said, "Do you want to come over for a couple of weeks?" He said, "Well, you can't do much in a couple of weeks." I said, "Well, we can do a couple of tracks and mix 'em.."

What was the dynamic between you and Jeff?

I'd show him the song. And then first of all we'd bang it down with a couple of acoustics so we'd have a wash to go against, instead of a click track. It's an old Beatle trick, really. Everything used to have two acoustics, at least. It was mainly me and John showing the guys the song. That's one of Jeff's production tricks, too. I can't think where he got it. A lot of people when I mentioned working with Jeff their eyebrows raised, and I picked up what they meant was he's going to make an ELO of you. I actually had that worry with Free As A Bird. But then I thought, No, we'd worked around it, and even though it was a Jeff Lynne-type production I still thought it sounded very like The Beatles. So I had a chat with him and I said, "I don't want to get into your recognisable sound." He was actually a little bit surprised, I don't think he thinks he has a sound (in surprised Brummie voice), "What do you mean?" He's a very innocent kind of bloke. I said, "If I feel we re getting into a bit of a Jeff Lynne formula, let's find a trick to get round it, subvert it." He was quite into it, actually.

John Lennon said in the late '70s that if The Beatles were still making records, they'd sound like ELO.

Yeah, it was important to Jeff to meet John and have him say, "Oh I love some of those ELO tracks." I liked them, too. It's a bit like Oasis. Anyone who gives such an obvious tribute to you, you either hate it or you love it, and I love it. They're taking our style and proliferating it, if that's the word. ELO were good, you know, pity about the haircut. (Pause) I'm only kidding about the haircut, you'd better put in brackets - he'd kill me. He's still got it.

Given Ringo's and George Martin's cameos, George Harrison remains conspicuous by his continued absence. Is it difficult, given your history and the reported 'artistic tension' on the Free As A Bird/Real Love sessions, to contemplate a Harrison/McCartney collaboration?

I don't know really. To tell you the truth, when I was working with John, it was so, I don't know, so full, you never had a minute, so if working with George never really came up, I got in the habit of not working with him, I never really learned how to do it. When we did Free As A Bird there were one or two little bits of tension, but it was actually cool for the record. For instance, I had a couple of ideas that he didn't like, and he was right. I'm the first one to accept that. So that was OK. We did then say that we might work together but the truth is, after Real Love I think George had some business problems. Er, it didn't do a lot for his moods over the last couple of years. He's been having a bit of a hard time, actually, he's not been that easy to get on with. I've rung him and maybe he hasn't rung back. No big deal. But when I ring Ringo, he rings back immediately, we're quite close that way. You know, I'll write George a letter and he might not reply to it. I don't think he means not to reply to it but it makes me wonder whether he actually wants to do it or not. And if you're not sure, you back off a little. But I love him, he's a lovely guy and I would love to do it. It'd be fun, he's good.

[howdoesagrapewrites]

what wld lovesick pav and gaya be like w a s/o who tries to be like, healthy in their relationship? like they're not the "i wanna get away bc this is unhealthy" type, but the "i will actively tie you both down and make you communicate your feelings and wants in a healthy way until we can all reach a mutual agreement" way

like the two reach the stage where they don't want their love to leave the house at all- but they kinda quickly shut that down and are like "nuh uh. i have a life, so either we talk it out and find something that works for me and you two or i stay out five minutes past the curfew you set just to make you squirm"

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩

Cw: poly!reader x lovesick! Pavitr Prabhakar x lovesick!Gayatri Singh, explicit talk about mental health

Notes: all I can think about is the reader spraying then with a water bottle like a poorly behaved cat

>You went out of the apartment to get the grocery shopping done, your partners had been behaving oddly, they were always very affectionate and loved being around you, but lately you feel like they have been neglecting their personal life in order to be together

>You left the house when they were taking a nap, you didn't feel like you were sneaking out, just that you were doing chores while they slept

>You think about this as you examine the red apples deciding if you should buy them or not

>Your phone vibrates and you answer to a preoccupied Pavitr, you apologize for not telling them, but you didn't want to disturb them, when you're about to hang up, he hits you with "just wait, we're on our way"

>You're a little confused and annoyed by having to wait for them at the market without being able to continue the list of home necessities, but you tried to be understanding, and thought that maybe when you got home, you could start a conversation about what you've been thinking the whole afternoon

>When they arrived, the outing went smoothly, and happily, like you're used to

>After you finished organizing everything on the shelves and pantry, you started the conversation in a pretty straight forward manner, you didn't want to dance around the subject and talk about issues like they're anything aside a from a completely normal part of every relationship

>You said you wanted to talk, and they were visibly nervous, however, complied

>"So I've been noticing that you don't want to leave the house, and that you get really upset when I do leave, and it concerns me, I won't force you, but I'm your partner too, I'm here for both of you."

>I think these two would be one of the easiest characters to pull into therapy and get them to work through their issues, something that's surprising considering they would never accept this if you were dating individually

>The challenge here is definitely Pavitr, because like I've said a million times already, he's extremely delusional

>So it'll be hard to even make him realize there's an issue with his obsession, also you'll need to reassure him that you're not rejecting his feelings, but rather just want to work through a more positive and healthy way of expressing and processing those feelings

>"But I love you, why don't you love me too?"

>"Of course I do, Pav, but love isn't supposed to hurt"

>Gayatri has a more clear vision of where these issues stem from and will be more cooperative with communication with time

>At first she's closed to the idea, but when she sees how much you care and that you genuinely want to help her, she lets her guard down

>If you respond positively and don't show signs of fear or disgust when she tells you about her feelings, you get to hear, the most gruesome parts, but far from scared, you're proud she feels safe to verbalize and recognize toxic behavior

>I think Pavitr would use mindfulness as a coping strategy for the yandere tendencies, and Gayatri would turn to writing

>Some of Gayatri's pieces are morbid, sure, but it's better than having her do it, you praise the effort

>Sometimes they still relapse and snap at you or get too possessive, but you're having none of it

>You set clear boundaries and as hard as that is, they understand that they'll lose your trust and love if they are unwilling to be better

>I think there's a solid 8/10 chance of fixing them

[conkers-thecosy]

Hullo! Just wanted to say a couple of things! First of all, thank you so, so much for all the lovely feedback on BTTW chapter 29! I don't think I ever had such a massive response to a chapter before, and while I expected a Reaction, this is far and away exceeding even my wildest dreams!

It's been so nice reading everyone's thoughts and excitement and various threats towards certain characters for their actions, and more than that, it's been wonderful to see folks talking to one another in the comments, too! That's such a rare thing, at least in my own experience, and honestly I just love feeling like the community of readers for this fic have all come together in such a way, it's just lovely!

I have a few asks here on tumblr regarding the new chapter, and I wanted to just say that I've truly enjoyed receiving those! I plan to sit and answer you guys tomorrow when I finish work for the day, so please bear with me! And thank you so much for all your kind words!

I'm also doing my very best to answer comments on ao3 in a timely manner, and I'm not too far behind right now, I don't think! I have a clear afternoon and I've just finished my writing session for the day, so I'm going to make a cup of tea and try and get most of you responded to! You should all know how very much your kindness and enthusiasm has meant to me - I've been struggling with motivation to write for a few weeks now and it's genuinely thrilled me to see how excited you guys have been!

Just as an aside, and as some general housekeeping, while the response to the new chapter has been largely positive, some folks are less pleased. To those people I would like to ask you to keep your comments respectful, please don't swear at me or call me names, and remember this is fanfiction, something I do for fun. You don't have to like it, and I'm frankly surprised anyone does at all, in fact, but please keep your tone polite.

I will also say that for the above mentioned reasons (I write fanfiction for fun, as a hobby) I will not be accepting criticism at this time. Not on my writing, not on the style, or the tropes, or anything. If you're not enjoying what I write, please do just leave. There's no part of me that wants to know what you don't like about it, honestly. I'm not a professional, and you shouldn't expect me to write or behave like one.

Anyway! That's everything, I think! Sorry for the grouch there, but it was important to say it, really!

Now it's time for tea, maybe a nap, and then answering the lovely, fun comments people have so kindly left! Did you know it's World Ice Cream Day?? Go get yourself some ice cream! Love you! 💛💛

[tamayula-hl]

It's been a long time since I've posted as my daughter and I have both been in bed with the flu and Covid! And once again I apologise for posting an article that is disturbing the atmosphere of HL fandom.

I have discussed the false accusation of trace plagiarism levelled against me with @freewld and have received an apology from her saying that it was a misunderstanding.

Here is a verified image of this case (Twitter/X)

I am now deeply relieved that we were able to end the discussion with a result that convinced her of my innocence. If it was a misunderstanding, I am willing to end it all this time. I would like to end this false accusation racket with a discussion with her. I will refrain from mentioning the matter once and for all (unless another disturbing incident occurs), and I hope that you will refrain from further mention of it too. I also do not want any slanderous behaviour, excessive criticism, speculation or falsehoods towards her, so I strongly urge you all to refrain from doing so. (Just in case , I have compiled screenshots and other evidence regarding the defamation of me that I have received in this row, and submitted and consulted with lawyers and others)

She also requested that I make a correction announcement on four points, which I would like to make here.

She said she conducted the survey with the intention of "using it as one reference for the opinions of her followers".

Tamayula's wish was the reason she decided to make the suspicion of plagiarism public.

She did not vote on the survey from multiple accounts to give herself an advantage.

She only made her Twitter account private after the survey was invalidated.

My verified public article was written in Japanese, which I wrote in a very confused and upset state, and translated into English and published at DeepL. Therefore, it was very difficult to understand and there were many phrases that may have led to your misunderstanding. I would like to apologise deeply for the confusion caused to everyone by my misunderstanding and incomprehensible article, and at the same time, I would like to correct it here. Although it has taken me a long time to respond, I have corrected the English text of the article on Tumblr and made it private, and on Twitter, I have deleted the tweet that referred to the survey.

I was very upset by the false accusations that suddenly fell upon me, and I sincerely regret that I repeatedly exposed myself in an emotional and unsightly manner, and that I failed to respond correctly to the incident. I cannot thank enough those who were kind to me and gave me warm words and those who believed in my innocence. I am sorry, but I will refrain from replying to you now, because if I do so, it is likely to cause an uproar again, but your words of encouragement and support, which I received at a time when I was feeling quite emotionally drained, gave me tremendous emotional support, more than you can imagine. Thank you very much. I am deeply grateful.

As for my future creative activities, I plan to continue with both Tumblr and Twitter as they are now. (However, I intend to move at the end of March in my real life and will be very busy for a few months with preparations and my new life, so my activities will be quite low-key for the time being). My interest in HL, Seb and Omi has not changed, and I am still motivated to paint, but in reflecting on the current turmoil, I now realise that I was very easily influenced by other people's creative styles, and that I had a vague idea of what the boundaries of inspiration were. In the future, I will continue to be self-conscious about my own dangerous values and make every effort to correct them, and if I have used a work as a reference, I will clearly state it and do my utmost not to cause trouble for others as an artist.

Finally, I am very sorry for the trouble I have caused to so many people. And to those of you who have been so warm and thoughtful, once again, thank you very much indeed 🙏 I will continue to do my best in drawing from now on!

[sakuraryomen01]

Valentino /Sukuna Ryomen x Reader/ .o8

warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother, some light teasing, more tutoring sessions, and Sukuna punches a pervert!

reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.

plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..

words: 1.125k

fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 .11 .12 .13 .14 .15 .16 .17 .18 .19 .20

a/n:: I've felt mentally drained so I'm going to finish this dang chapter holy frick did this take so long :D

. . .

Thank you for reading this bit! Enjoy! ❤️

. . .

Sleep didn't come easy to you, and it was expected. Seeing Sukuna in his vulnerable state, having him confirm a small doubt in your mind, and having Shoko spur on your aching heart.

It was a hard pill to swallow, but you needed to force it. You can't force someone to love you back.

Sukuna had his reasons, and it didn’t concern you in the slightest. You told yourself that as much as possible when you felt the need to say something to him after lessons and classes, or do simple things like ask about his day. When you wanted to ask, you bit your tongue and stayed silent. Sticking to the normal day to day chit chat between classmates.

Don’t bug him more than you already do. You say to yourself as you lift your fist up and knock on the door a few times.

There was a quiet "enter" from his side of the door, and when you did as told you didn't see Sukuna in the living room or kitchen like normal.

"Sukuna?" You asked, confusion filling your brain. You continued to wander around the dorm until Sukuna's bedroom door opened up, revealing a disheveled man.

His hair a mess, t-shirt lopsided and somewhat dirty, and boxers on full display. You quickly averted your eyes, trying to save Sukuna his dignity. "Hello to you too."

He waved before heading into his bedroom to change and look cleaner. Moving yourself to your usual space on the couch, you pulled out your things and started flipping through a notebook.

There was almost no noise, besides the random grunts of Sukuna shuffling through his things. Even your thoughts going quiet and jumbled with the notes in your book. Writing things down and not noting the shadow being cast over you by Sukuna.

"Hey, what're you working so hard on?" His voice broke your train of thought, making you look up at him.

"Uhm, tutoring?" You responded, a questioning tone in your voice. "Why?"

Sukuna sighed, resting his cheek against his fist, maroon eyes scanning your figure. "Don't you wanna have fun instead?"

The question catches you off guard and you chuckle, patting his knee in an almost loving manner. "I don't think you should have fun until you get better grades."

"God, you sound like my mother!"

You crinkle your nose as Sukuna's rather modest laughter fills the air. It had been a while since you saw a smile.

With a sigh, you straightened your posture and started to the session, seeing Sukuna's eyes begin to glaze over in a bored pout. You didn't like doing much studying either, but keeping your grades up mattered to you.

Sukuna knew this, watching you diligently work with him to help. So determined..

——

"..How are your parents?" He asked, his eyes lazily looking towards you.

It had been an hour since the tutoring had started that day, and Sukuna's mind was elsewhere. It was dull, the schedule he has wrapped himself into. It was the same thing everyday, seeing the hundreds of students around campus and ending up stuck in his dorm with you.

Talking about equations and random stuff he was already familiar with became tedious. Even though he was willing just to see you.

Never say that out loud though.

"Oh, they're fine," You answered, a slightly confused look on your face as you tapped the cap of your red pen on the notebook.

Sukuna raised a brow, scooting himself closer into your space, a small smile on his face. "That's not specific enough. I wanna know how they're doing."

I just told you– "Well, my dad's working on some project for the house apparently. He wanted to make a garden for it."

"Your dad's still the plant guy, huh?"

You pout your lips as Sukuna's curled into a smirk. "Not always. He got into sports cars for some reason, even though he's a planet health guy."

Sukuna chuckles at this before starting to write a few things down in his notebook. You grumble with a slightly warm flush filling your cheeks. Either way, you couldn't really complain much, his smirk made you feel warm inside.

"Are you done with the questions I gave you?" You asked, leaning your head over and bumping your cheek against Sukuna's shoulder.

"Yeah, the last one stumps me though.."

After teasing him for a few moments about his blunders and getting side eyed for the next twenty minutes, you eventually were able to explain the problem before Sukuna pointing out how late it had gotten.

"I could order a pizza and you just sleep over again." He said as he put away his things, placing a hand on his hip. "It'd be best, this dorm is filled with shit drunk guys."

"Aw, you're so sweet," You responded, lifting your bag over your shoulder strap while hiding all the giddy cuteness inside you. "But it's just a five minute walk to my place. I'll be fine!"

There was a hostile look of discontent in his maroon eyes that read: How dare you say no to me?

A confused shiver was sent down your spine before you sighed and pat Sukuna's arm, heading towards the door. "I'll text you when I get home, promise."

Letting out a small grunt, Sukuna eventually caved and you went home. Although he did threaten that he'll give you a stern talking to if he didn't get a text.

He's got more layers than an onion.*

Though, as you made your way home, you bumped into someone. His hair was messy, sunglasses barely hanging onto his head with his hair pushed back, and pants dirtier than your crustiest sock. But his pink cheeks and glossy eyes didn't betray you in recognizing one of your weirdest friends to date.

"Satoru? What are you doing out?" You place a hand on the males exposed forehead and humming to yourself. "..Are you high, drunk, or sick?"

With a delayed reaction, a hiccup, and a pout, you got this. "My girl, you're judgy so muchy~ Let me life without demands!"

You raise a brow and scoff. I know he'll regret this drinking in the future.

"Fine, but I have to go home now," You say, patting the disheveled mans shoulder, a smile on your face. "Don't trip walking up those stairs!"

But as you said goodbye, Gojo leaned in and placed a soft peck on your cheek with surprising accuracy. You blink in confusion as Gojo smiles loosely and pets your head. "Don't hurt yourself either, Miss best friend chaser!"

Before words could process, or a thought was able to work the cogs in your headspace, there was a grunt and a very big "someone's jaw might have gotten broken" sound.

. . .

a/n: hope you guys have been doing well! srry i haven't posted in almost two months maybe really, so many things came up. I was worried about mental health for a while, wasn't feeling motivated to write much but then smthing else happened. Huge changes are happening so we might end up with another writer's drought lmao (I'm going to college soon and do adult things ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙;;;)

*and if u didnt get the reference I'll scream*

Chapter Song Theme:

— Ariana Grande - God is a woman (Lyric Video)

taglist: @mageyboo, @mzladyd , @mysticwonderlandangel, @sukunaspersonalfleshlight, @kawaiipenguin20, @k-indie, @okkotsufav, @cafeinthemoon93, @pulchritxde, @bontenbunny, @deepinballs, @kleeboomed, @fallenfeversstuff, @fiierytearzx, @wo-ming-bai, @ririkaxbz, @instantgalaxysheep, @watyousayin, @z3r0art, @sukunaobsessed, @lik0, @sukunasfirstlove, @princesstiti14, @nemoyr, @ladywolf44005, @cat-mak20, @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn, @hxlalokidottir, @instantgalaxysheep, @domainofmarie, @the-moongoddess, @dark-n-dirty-duchess, @agentdedf1sh, @sukunastoy, @lyn-soso, @bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9, @heyitstacy, @lost-in-tokyo, @marksassybanana, @bozos-r-us, @gumis-girl, @p-3-4-c-h, @chaoticqueen33, @dxxny-loves-u, @l0tus-n-l0ve, @jiordeci

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[heartshapedbubble]

HI HI HI ‼️‼️

I'm so happy the requests are open again (I was waiting for this 😭😭)

I hope exam season went well!!

Anyways,I'm back (if you still remember me smh) with a platonic request!!

Can I just have platonic Jack,Charles Holt (i think you write for him),Percy,and Burke any person of your choice (you can remove or replace some if it's too much/you dony write for them) with a child reader that's really paranoid,is scared of everyone and everything,and has just a deep backstory,for example with bad parents,and like a big brother who is a psychopath or smth (idk I made that up on the spot,you can change it if you'd like!!) kinda warming up to them,following them around like a lost puppy and just crying when they aren't there?

I hope it's not too complicated and made sense,and that you have a fantastic day!!

AHH HELLO FINALLY RESPONDING TO THIS REQ!!! sadly i'm stuck in an endless loop of exam seasons but so far i have all As!! B) partially the reason i've been inactive here, i'm working quite hard on my education this year!

of course i remember and i shall deliver - have a great day! <3

jack, charles holt, percy and burke lapadura with an upset!child reader hcs🎩✈️🧟‍♂️🔨

jack the ripper🎩

he warms up to you quite quickly. in his opinion, you can hide away behind him as much as you want and he'll gladly hold your hand whenever you want him to - just be careful not to cut yourself on his blades

i don't think jack is much of a listener. he just sees you curled up and sad and can't help but pity you, so little and innocent. who could have possibly wanted to harm such a precious little thing like you?

a bit tone-deaf in situations like these, i think he'd even baby you here and there. he's so determined to take good care of you he goes a bit overboard sometimes

as i mentioned before, he's more action-oriented in cases like these. despite the gravity of the situation his manner of speech remains light and even gleeful. in his eyes, now that you're with him there's no reason to worry anymore. he doesn't want to make you even sadder than before!

the type of caretaker to carry you around at all times and pick you up whenever he notices you're upset. in doubt? carry the lil kid on your shoulders

charles holt✈️

this man definetly has some fearful-avoidant attachment thing going on with him. at first he's awfully uncomfortable, seeking every possible moment to avoid you. he's not a bad guy - he just doesn't know how to react in situations like these and copes by escaping them as soon as he gets the opportunity.

on top of that, he has never been good with kids.

he pities you, though :( i think he'd see some part of his younger self in you and that would really rub salt into his wound

he talks to you in the same way that he talks to adults, except the occasional "little guy/little fella" and bends over/crouches whenever he talks so you two are at the same level

also the type to pick you up when he notices you're crying :( in general he's much more responsive once you two get closer, often patting your head and back in an attempt to comfort you

grab his hand *once* and he just follows along with you. no questions asked

he didn't get much attention as a kid so he's kind of projecting in the form of giving you all the affection he didn't receive, albeit shyly

percy🧟‍♂️

percy often uses his muteness to his advantage, playing deaf just so he can avoid the other residents and quicky return to his solitude. he knows it's bad but he literally experimented on cadavers, he's not below that.

yet he can't pretend forever.

something that percy copes the worst with (after his resurrection) is guilt. seeing you so upset, seeking any sort of comfort from the manor residents makes something inside of him break. probably not his heart, rather something more human that he can't exactly pinpoint.

not big on physical affection, instead guiding you with an occasional tap on the back or simply pointing towards something. he also communicates with you with his gaze - it has been, for the most part, drained of humanity, but the way he furrows his brows and blinks slowly makes you think he's trying to push the few remaining bits of empathy through his eyes, in hopes you'll understand what he wants to say to you.

likes going on walks with you after dinner. mostly through the corridors of the manor, straight to the garden where you two sit to catch a breather and appreciate the blooming plants

burke lapadura🔨

probably the most responsible (in a way) out of the four here tbh

the most communicative out of them too - when he's not preoccupied with his machines, he's a solid listener and provides his own insight and advice. often it's a bit too much for you since you're quite young, but he's trying his best ok :(

believes good food can soothe anything! he's not the type to cook hearty meals (do NOT let this man into the kitchen) but he always keeps some cookies in his workshop in case you visit

awkward with any sort of physical touch so he compensates with quality time. if the weather is nice enough he may propose a short fishing trip or flying kites in the backyard

the way he sees it, distracting yourself from your past trauma is the best way to cope with it. never mentions your upbringing unless you want to talk about it - he wants to create as much happy memories with you, even if it means spoiling you with new machines and toys

[qeaerri]

it's your choice, either you wanna be my good baby or a stubborn bitch who needs to be punished  [male!kafka/reader drabble <3]

cw: gn reader, GENDERBEND (male!kafka here), dubcon, manipulative behaviour, an al-haitham kinnie told me kafka is yandere 😞, probably gaslighting, kafka calls you bitch, slut and one time he says 💘 dear 💘

you'd better not read it if you're too sensitive for this kind of content D:  

a/n: 19+ content, characters aged up 20+; this is my work previously published on ficbook.net, don't post it anywhere without my permission

♡ «stop squirming, dear», kafka says in his usual playful manner, squeezing your wrists above your head with one hand to prevent the incipient resistance. a satisfied smile spreads across his face as he settles comfortably between your thighs and rubs his already erected penis.

♡ you don't need to be a genius to understand that kafka is clearly superior to you in strength. despite all your attempts to fight back, all you get is a slap on the bare skin, on which the mark immediately begins to redden, and the strengthened grip on your wrists until they begin to ache painfully.

♡ «don't you understand what'll happen if you keep resisting?», he asks, holding you in place with one hand, while the other one is placed on your chin in order to make you look into his eyes. «i said fucking stop».

♡ the stellaron hunter slightly lingers his gaze on how you lick your dry lips and bends down lower, pulling you in for a kiss. you two haven't spent time together for too long because of your resentment towards him and you can see from his condition that he is absolutely not in the mood for long foreplay.

♡ kafka demandingly crushes your soft sweety lips with his and presses on your cheeks with his fingers, forcing you to open your mouth so that he can deepen the kiss. he starts playing with your tongue and smirks, hearing your soft whimpers.

♡ «you like it when I kiss you like that», he states the fact, gently caressing your cheek. «and yet you keep acting like a bitch. yet you keep resent me because of some silly moment with blade. tell me, why is that? haven't I been kind for you all the time? haven't I been there for you every-fucking-time you needed me? is it how you're going to repay me, slut?». he keeps asking you one thing after the other, while his eyes are sparkling with tricky lights, feigned misunderstanding and his deepest desire and need for you.

♡ the man has always successfully played with human feelings and you have been no exception to the rule. immediately feeling guilty for what you did, you bite your bottom lip and keep silence, allowing him to breathe calmer and loose his grip a little, while he continues speaking.

♡ «I've done so much for you. and now when I need you so fucking much, you want to leave? are you fucking serious? can't even help me?», to prove his words kafka thrusts, making you feel his arousal and understand how much he needs you. «is it so hard for you?»

♡ «n-no...», you respond constrainedly, feeling tears starting to form in your eyes and clouding the image of the man above you. when one tear treacherously rolls down your cheek, the stellaron hunter wipes it away with his thumb, leaning in again for another kiss.

♡ «see? such a good little babe. you surely know your place, don't you?», he contunues mocking you. «and you surely don't want to disappoint your boyfriend. am I right?»

♡ kafka keeps smirking contentedly when he receives your nod in response to his words and lifts up your t-shirt, exposing himself to a view of your chest. with one hand he plays with it, squeezing and scrolling the nipple pea between his long fingers, and leaves a path of kisses to your little belly.

♡ «it's your choice, either you wanna be my good baby or a stubborn bitch who needs to be punished».

[sunbeamah]

Hi everyone!

Firstly I'd like to sincerely apologise to everyone who follows me, and who's been waiting for an update on any of my fics. I made promises for chapters and posting times that I didn't keep, and I should never have made them when I was in such a shaky place.

It feels really silly to act like I'm a public figure or something, but I know many of you care about the fics I post and want to know if they'll be updated and whatnot. I'll put a heading below the cut for that specifically, so you can skip the first bit (explanation of what's been delaying said fics so much).

These past 2 months a lot has happened in my life. My parents got a divorce and I have experienced more betrayal, disdain and hatred from my father's side of the family than I ever thought possible. The same family that inspired me to write trouble in tokyo, the family who I love so much, has shown me once again who they truly are. I've experienced everything from violence to exclusion to just straight up being ignored, and I'm still a bit shaken from how quickly everything turned. I'm physically okay and safe now, and I'll heal emotionally.

I realise now that I was always an outsider looking in. My family is full of close-knit sibling groups, and I'm an only child who never quite fit. I was always too awkward, too different, too disappointing in the visual sense, to ever really fit in. They were all nice enough when we spoke one-on-one, so I thought maybe the reason why they ignored me and excluded me in group settings was because, though they loved me, they just loved or liked each other more. But I was just turning a blind eye to all the things they did because I wanted to protect. Whether that protection was for myself and my feelings, or my images of the people I felt were close as siblings to me, I don't know. But I understand now.

Families in my culture don't have to be blood-related. It's silly to forgive people of all their trespasses and put them on a pedestal just because you share a grandparent. I know all this, and yet here I am, still crying.

Updates on my fanfiction specifically

I still have many troublesome extras planned and half-written, and I will be finishing and posting those! The Kusozu brothers are a strong family with a genuine, unconditional love for each other that I still believe exists! I'm sure it's out there waiting for us all :)

I'm so sorry to everyone who's sent me an ask I haven't gotten back to yet, I sincerely thank you so much for sending them. I want to reply with a fic chapter for you all, and that's the only reason why I haven't responded.

The Butterfly Effect chapters I promised had to be scrapped. I will be writing better ones and hopefully posting them in a more timely manner.

The Cat!Yuuji au Nine Lives has 3 more works to come. They're short, silly little ficlets that aren't serious or heavy at all.

My many, many, many jjk fics unposted will start to be posted soon. I've got lots of inspiration and lots of emotional turmoil to write out, so please excuse me if it's something a little angstier.