#and it can be difficult to start things when you feel awful

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

what do you think the third years would be like 10 years from now?

What comes after Ever After?

You’re looking at the new buff baker that helps man the Clover Patisserie. He’s beloved by the local housewives and school girls— His parents are getting up there in age, so Trey has taken up a bulk of the responsibilities: ordering supplies, prepping ingredients, baking, stocking, and customer service.

After hours, Trey experiments with new recipes and leftover ingredients. Sometimes he comes up with some truly awful inventions, but other times they end up working out really well. Who knew that adding oyster sauce would enhance the flavor of this bread? He calls these the “Clover Specials, Piping Hot and Fresh Off the Trey” (yes, that was a pun).

He tries to make the bakery more whimsical for the customers. Little seasonal decorations, cute little doodles on the placards that indicate what each item is, a sign that reminds folks to brush well after eating sweets, etc. (Trey claims he doesn't really care for little flourishes like this; it might just be the nostalgia of the unbirthday party days getting to him.)

If there are things that haven’t sold at the end of the day, he’ll offer them for a discount in a blind box style. You’ll never know what you’ll pull, but it’s always delicious, if not a little stale or slightly lumpy looking. Waste not, what not!

Every so often, he has nights out with his childhood friends Chenya and Riddle. Trey's responsible for bringing the snacks (he uses his friends as a test audience for his experiments), and the three spend that time drinking, sharing stories, and catching up on each others' lives.

Cater’s a social media manager and agent for various influencers. His career allows him to basically work from anywhere (which is convenient because he travels to various promotional events) and to be on his phone 24/7, monitoring stats, attending strategy meetings, and coordinating with PR teams.

Keeps up with the latest trends! He's not one of those "how do you do, fellow kids?" types though. Cater is genuinely on top of what's cool--so much so that he's sometimes contacted as a style consultant. It feels like he's got his hands in many facets of the entertainment industry.

He regularly sees a therapist (although he doesn't let any of his friends or family know) to talk through his insecurities and other darker thoughts. It's really been helping him sort out these complex emotions he's been sitting and stewing in for the longest time. He's hoping that, someday, he can reach the point where he can open up to everyone about this other side of himself.

Every now and again, the thought to text an old NRC classmate strikes him--but something keeps Cater back. Doubt, apprehension. The worst that can happen is being left on read, but to Cater the consequences feel so much worse than that. It's a huge relief to him when he gets a text out of the blue from Trey one day--an excuse to text back, to make that connection. Though it's still difficult for Cater to gather the courage to initiate another conversation, this is still a foot in the door for him, the potential start of something new.

Cater still has the Magicam accounts of his school mates. He'll sort of like... cyberstalk their pages just to keep up with their lives, to feel a sense of closeness with the people he failed to reach out to during his NRC days. When he stops to reflect on it, he really regrets his inaction--and, on some nights, he scrolls and scrolls until the dread and the loneliness lulls him into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

It took a lot of resistance and arguing, but--much to the delight of Kifaji and his family members--Leona has (begrudgingly) taken on the role of a royal advisor to support Sunset Savanna. There were of course some growing pains, especially with Leona's callous and arrogant attitude clashing with those of the other (older, much more conservative) advisors--but for the most part, it's been a net positive.

His focus is on improving infrastructure while also conserving as much of the environment as they can. The knowledge and experience he has gained from his 4th year internship comes in handy here, and thankfully they've been able to take small but steady steps to modernize the country.

In addition to improving infrastructure, Leona has made efforts to strengthen the Sunset Savanna's soft power. He has established new schools and food banks, particularly in impoverished areas, and started magift/spelldrive teams. This has made him popular with certain groups, such as the hyena beastmen and children.

Leona loathes putting on airs, but it's a necessity when facing the public so he manages. Unfortunately, he's still in the habit of skipping meetings and ceremonies he deems unnecessary or a waste of his time, which earns him pockets of ire. He usually just shoots back with, "Yeah? So what? I'm still gettin' results, ain't I?"

Political demands? Not a problem for him. But family? That's the real pain in his tail. Cheka, now an energetic 15-year old, has not let up on bothering him one bit. Then there's also the affectionate Falena, who is trying to desperately reconnect with his estranged brother. Leona just tosses out the excuse of "being busy" to dodge the both of them.

Vil continues to be an A-list celebrity and triple threat--actor, model, and influencer. He has racked up several more leading roles since his school days, including non-traditional bad guys. Vil has been an anti-villain and sympathetic villain.

Having aged like fine wine, he was able to play the character of a father too, just like how he dreamed of as a third-year student. When Vil got the call about the role, he excitedly told his own dad about it, who was so ecstatic and joked that Vil "takes after his old man". They went out for a little father-son bonding time to celebrate, dining at a high-class establishment and having a toast to Vil's future.

It was a Big Deal when Vil was offered his first-ever hero role. Social media and news outlets were popping off about it, and Vil himself was so excited he actually squealed. To this day he still considers it a turning point in his career and one of the most fun characters he ever played. Since then, he's been getting much more diverse roles, which has really opened up the door for him to expand his skills.

Vil is also a business owner now, having several brands under him. A skincare brand, a clothing brand, a makeup brand… Despite them being celebrity owned, the products are actually high quality (Vil won’t sign his name off on subpar products) and very popular, particularly whenever his face is plastered on the marketing campaigns.

These days, he allows himself to be a little less guarded with his front-facing persona. Vil still comes off as cool and regal, but notably laughs more, smiles more, even giggles more. He has a bit of a youthful sparkle to him and talks openly about his own struggles, fears, hopes, and dreams. Fans praise him for being so much more "relatable" and honest.

Rook claims that he is a globe-trotting archeologist now, but you get the feeling that he’s not telling the full truth. What kind of archeologist carries around a belt of weirdly invasive tools on it? Are those teeny-tiny listening devices? And why is his camera (which he says is strictly for his photography hobby) loaded with shots of suspicious characters taken from a distance?

He shares all kinds of crazy stories, like about the time he swung from a vine with a family of gorillas or how he discovered a lever that revealed a roller coaster to a secret underground laboratory. “Um, are those the kinds of things an archaeologist does…?” you ask him. Rook just smiles and laughs, but doesn’t provide a clear answer.

His stealth and marksman skills have developed to a scary degree. You sometimes forget that Rook is even standing beside you, and you've witnessed him kill bugs with frightening precision with nothing more than his gloved fingers. He brushes it off as abilities he sharpened "on the job".

... In any case, whatever Rook's actual occupation is, it requires a lot of travel. He lavishes his friends with souvenirs and post cards of the loveliest sights, then babbles on and on about local attractions, culture, art, and charming hole-in-the-wall destinations. It seems like he has accumulated a lot of knowledge about Twisted Wonderland in the 10 years since you've last seen him, and he's all too eager to blab about it all.

He's become an artist, although he operates under a pen name. You'll find paintings, sculptures, or collages he has assembled in various small exhibitions, and poetry he has penned where you least expect it. Rook puts his talent out in hopes of beautifying the world.

Idia has succeeded his father as the Director of S.T.Y.X. There’s a lot riding on his shoulders, but the pressure surprisingly never really gets to him. He’s cooler, more methodical now—almost as though he were a machine himself, set so clearly on his task that he won’t budge until it is completed first. (He worries that he has become just like his downer dad 💀)

Sometimes he spirals and his nerves get the best of him. In those cases, he has to resort to the text to speech device he invented back at NRC to get through his meetings. The staff at S.T.Y.X. get used to it and are largely alright with it.

He has the habit of snacking on the job. There's chip crumbs and gummy worms scattered on his desk, which is already messy enough with important documents. (He complains that this should all be digitalized anyway!) Idia keeps even more snacks in his pockets, munching on them whenever he’s annoyed or needs to give himself something to do.

The dark circles under his eyes get way worse. With work eating up so much of his day, Idia has less free time to games and other hobbies. That just means he ends up staying up super late into the night to catch up on his dailies and to grind out events, read manga, watch anime, etc. (“Sleep is for the weak!” he insists.) It’s a miracle he can still get up in the mornings to clock in for his next shift!

Shockingly, Idia takes breaks to go outside and touch grass soak up some (artificial) sunshine. He has learned from past experience that being locked up indoors all the time isn't exactly healthy. That, and his Chief of Cybersecurity (Ortho) pesters him to put himself out there more! Sometimes Idia even awkwardly tries to converse with his coworkers around the water cooler, though that's never quite as relaxing as him just chilling by himself in some quiet corner of the Island of Woe.

Make way for the reigning king of Briar Valley! Maleficia has finally retired, passing on her title to her grandson Malleus. There was a coronation ceremony (now recognized as the holiday or Ascension in Briar Valley), which you were of course invited to as a guest. You had a seat up front and were one of the first to congratulate him right after he was officially crowned.

As a relatively young king, Malleus isn’t the perfect ruler right away. Learning about ruling is nothing close to actually ruling. He stumbles and has to adjust to the role and, most of all, he has to balance the conservative values of his country and his people with the ever-changing lands beyond his home. Not an easy task, especially when he has only just gotten used to the concept of change himself—but with the support of his like-minded retainers, Malleus knows he isn’t alone in his endeavors for a brighter tomorrow.

His power also poses another challenge. Malleus is so used to solving his issues by casting a spell or terrifying his opposition into backing down. He’s no longer in a position to do such things or to let his emotions run wild, lest he risk tearing apart his own court and driving a wedge between the valley and other countries. A leash on his temper, a regal demeanor—this is how a mature adult presents himself. The anger only truly comes out when his people are in danger or he is deeply insulted.

His top priority once he is in power is restoring the bonds that were put in jeopardy on account of his… “oopsie” in his third year at NRC. There’s still lingering distrust between him and other nations due to that incident, so Malleus makes it clear that he’s apologetic and willing to come to the table for discussion, should other countries wish. His schedule is jam-packed with meetings with foreign dignitaries.

Massive and sweeping reform is not happening—not anytime soon. No opening of the borders, no sudden introduction of new technology. There would be massive outcry and resistance from the public + senators, not to mention that Malleus himself isn’t entirely comfortable yet with the concept. However, he has put together incremental proposals and tries convince others of the benefits, implanting the seeds in the minds of the people. He’s also supportive of initiatives which promote learning and cultural exchange, such as the import of reading materials from overseas (Sebek’s idea) and has even appointed Silver as Briar Valley’s very first human ambassador.

Lilia has comfortably retired to the Land of Crimson Long. He lives in a little hut far removed from civilization, but he ventures out into the town to pick up the essentials and to play board games with the local retirees. For the most part, it’s just Lilia and the wilderness! ... Which has led to rumors of a monster haunting the forest. This, Lilia entertains in by dropping down from the trees and frightening any hooligans who come close to his territory.

Though his magical abilities have been in decline, he does his best to stay active and in shape! Lilia once snuck into a nearby military camp, disguising himself as one of the new recruits, and partook in their training with them! He even stopped to lend extra help to the recruits who seemed to be struggling the most--though he still came first place in all of their exercises and holds the record time for climbing to the top of a pole to retrieve the arrow there.

He delights in partaking in the local customs and cuisine. Lilia loves to travel to shrines and admire the temples built to honor ancestors. He lights up some incense and joins others in prayer, knowing that he, too, will one day be among the dead. Best to pay respects now! Lilia has also taken to several cups of tea (as recommended by his doctor) with his meals, and has rice porridge with sunnyside egg eyes and bacon smiles whenever he needs something comforting.

Lilia of course keeps in touch with his loved ones! He's still gaming with his online companion Gloomurai and texts his Diasomnia boys all the time. Lilia also sends cards for special occasions, putting much love and care into his notes and the pictures + souvenirs he attaches to them.

His whole face lights up when his friends are able to make the time to pay him a visit. Lilia makes a big show of it, insisting to arrange a big feast or to play a tune for them—oh, and how about a fireworks show?! But his guests just tell him to sit down and take it easy while they take care of everything for him. It’s his turn to be doted on!

[victoryarchive]

Ok. I’ll bite. Hermit! Tommy? Because that looks an awful lot like a really cool Watcher au something? Please share!

Omg if you insist lmao

Buckle up this is gonna be a lot.

This all started when I was thinking about Greek mythology (a common occurrence I fear) and I was thinking how even though Helios is the sun and the god of the sun many people these days assign that role to Apollo (the god of light). And that got me thinking more and more about how as time progresses stories change and gods become gods of things they never were before. New gods exist. Old ones are completely forgotten. Their names change. Look at Roman mythology for a great example of this.

And because I’m one hell of a nerd this immediately translated to ‘how can I use this in fan fiction’

Another thing you must know about me is I hate to fall back on Minecraft mechanics, it feels lazy for me to do it (it’s fine to read I just hate writing it) and must always find a way to make things like respawn and different worlds fit into the lore of the story.

Thus began the world building:

Every watcher is a god of something, Xelqua/Grian: the sun, Pearl: the moon, Kristin: The underworld, XD: [redacted], etc. Each watcher has the ability to create a world (or multiple depending on their power) for their people to live (Grian: hermitcraft, Pearl: Empires, Kristin: the Antarctic Empire, XD: the DSMP, etc) Within these worlds it is very common practice for the Watchers to choose a devoted follower to give a small portion of their power to oversee their world, to make rules and keep everyone safe, an Admin. (Grian: Xisuma, Pearl: fWhip, Kristin: Philza, XD: Dream, etc.)

Now none of these watchers just spawned as watchers, no they became watchers through people worshipping them and writing stories about them as gods. These stories held power so the person held power and became essentially immortal and can do pretty much anything with that power, at least until they are forgotten.

So far the story begins with Xelqua brining his players back from their silly death game and being intercepted by a very very old goddess, one who had almost been completely forgotten. This primordial goddess is peace, not just the goddess of peace, she is peace. She is called Prime. She asks Grian and Xisuma to take her last worshipper and devotee, Tommy, and protect him from another Watcher. And with a little bit of convincing Grian’s like ‘yeah fine ig I’ll take the kid. How difficult can one child be.’

Now that’s as far as I’ve written aside from the beginning backstory stuff, but I’ve got a lot of stuff planned, including an entire few chapters inspired by ‘god games’ from epic the musical, where Grian has to go fight for some mortals life. One of them. I know which one. Yall don’t :)

There’s also a lot of Grian and Pearl back story from when they were kids and still mortal like thousands and thousands of years ago and how they eventually became literal gods.

Tommy learns how friends are supposed to work and gets mentored by none other than Mumbo Jumbo, or Impulse i haven’t decided yet. The only thing I know about Minecraft is redstone so he’s learning redstone.

Also it would be a damn shame for me to not include False and Tommy flying together a bunch bc they’re the only to avians that can match each others speed.

There’s some stuff going on with techno being an admin on an anarchy server. He comes in later in an absolute rage.

Also Joel is a demigod… it makes sense I swear.

I’m having a lot of fun playing around with the world building and each individual characters back story so I will expand on anything if people ask about it :))))

Thank you for asking this has been fun

[dljae2025]

MOMENTARY RELIEF

“Aw look at you pretty decent if you weren’t here at least” the redheaded nurse said . Oh, he’s running a temperature and fussy … nurse you can give it to him if it would calm him down of course “ the brunette nurse said . getting the approval the redheaded nurse would get some lube and start again . As she went Michael groaned in delight and pleasure . “ that’s it that’s a good boy” the brunette nurse said, encouraging him as he neared . “ we’re so proud of you” the-redhead nurse said continuing speeding up before . Ugh.., Michael granted as he cumming long and hard even spraying a little. “Their we go all better now? “ the redheaded nurse said. “Nurse Kimberly ? Once you’re cleaned up get him caged and back with the others before nap time “ the brunette nurse said . “ They’re always so difficult there last Cummy and then when it happens, they don’t realize it’s already over” Nurse Kimberly said, cleaning her gloves . “ Aren’t they all? “ the brunette nurse said. “ Right , but granted he won’t remember all of this in a few weeks time once we get him on our formula all of this will be a distant memory to him” nurse Kimberly said looking at him with the cage in hand ready to put it on him for good . Michael, true to their word wouldn’t have release again being permanently caged in later medicated to a point where he doesn’t remember or want such a thing what replaced it where tantrums of some feeling that he can no longer remember the meaning of what’s so ever. 

[actualbampot]

im thinking Fallen Petals with #30 could be fun

One accidentally runs into the other(s) while… 30. At an anime convention

especially if Cinder's trying to keep her nerdy side a secret

('Accidentally'. P.s. this was so ridiculous to write lmao)

The idea of a convention floor filled with thousands of people embracing their childish hobbies, sporting garish costumes, and arm-fulls of overpriced merchandise. Cinder wondered how they didn't all feel ashamed.

When did they plan on taking things seriously? When were they going to-

"Grow up."

Cinder had clocked her at the start of the year, the girl with red hair staring at her from across class when she thought she wasn't looking. How she must have spent months mustering every bit of courage she had to hand Cinder a trembling flyer for one of those ridiculous anime conventions, dithering on the proposition like a badly rehersed speech.

Cinder watched as the rejection split the girl down the middle of those gunmetal eyes when she'd batted it out of her hand.

In hindsight, maybe Cinder had done too much growing up. Because, as it turned out: she really liked armor.

It helped that its construction wasn't dissimilar to creating clothing - something she was already adept at. Some of the patterning and panelling processes were skills easily transferrable from a time she made and mended her own clothes as a young girl.

But wearing it.

Morbid curiosity bred research, research morphed into hyperfixation, until Cinder's dorm room had been taken over with crafting supplies. She'd shelved everything else that week, rushing from her classes to make the most of the time before the convention that weekend (they called it 'con crunch', very befitting). What she had chosen to build hadn't been a difficult decision either, a quick search into what was currently trending dictating the design.

The convention crowds were shoulder to shoulder, brimming with excited energy that Cinder was convinced would exhaust her more than she already was. But she was completely encased, galvanised from head to toe in her mock-armor, the billow of a cape in her tailwinds.

Everybody looked on in awe, the tight crowds like a river parting around an immovable object, not daring to touch her. She thought she'd feel ridiculous, write off the day and drop the outfit in the bin on the way home.

But she felt pride. Creating something ambitious that wasn't just for function. It was for fun.

For effect, she hoisted her prop weapon on her shoulder, forgetting herself entirely. When the pictures started, they didn't stop.

From children to adults pointing out the character she had assumed for the day, all polite, welcoming excitement when Cinder mumbled something about it being her first time.

Eventually, she started counting the amount of steps she'd take before being asked for a picture, lost in the joy of it, until one very excited, very familiar voice reminded her why she was here in the first place:

"It's a Grimmdiver!"

Cinder had to turn completely - because that's what the helmet demanded - towards a familiar sight of red hair, and an offensively bright hoodie balanced by plain black jeans, and an assortment of silver chains dangling from her hip that matched the silver in her eyes.

Gone was the skittish hesitation Cinder had seen in class, erased by boundless excitement.

She liked it better when she smiled.

"Can- could I take a picture with you?"

Cinder's heartbeat changed pattern when the Red girl (Red, Cinder settled on) looked up at her in hopeful waiting, her scroll eagerly prepared in her hand.

What if she recognized her? How would she explain it? She wasn't sure how to explain it herself, this need to prove herself right- that this truly all was a waste of time. Or was she proving Red wrong? Her justifications had been lost along the way.

Cinder opted to simply nod, exaggerating the movement of her helmet to carry the affirmation. That fluttering in her breast pounded in her ears when Red rushed to her side, smile beaming brighter than the sun.

When Cinder felt the weight of Red's arm around her gauntlet, the heat in her helmet ramped to stifiling, quickly leaning in and matching Red's silly peace sign in the selfie camera before she could talk herself out of it.

"You look so cool! Thank you for the picture!"

And as quickly as it had happened, it was over.

Cinder hadn't counted on making it this far. She thought she'd be restless and bitter over wasting time with all of this by now. Maybe she would have been, without the armor supressing her apathy towards everyone around her. With it, Cinder could be anyone except herself. Someone that wasn't a disappointment.

"Hey, uh. Wait."

There was something very sweet about the way the smattering of freckles on Red's nose crinkled in confusion, bright-eyed and full of wonder.

"Oh. You're- you're a girl! Wow. Not that that's weird, I just don't know any girls that like Grimmdivers." Red's mouth moved so fast that Cinder thought she might take off like a rocket, all sickeningly infectious excitement. "It's all guys, they're horrible and yell at me because my loadout sucks and cant tell you how many times i've been told: 'make me a sandwich'- but you're...not one. You're like, a real Grimmdiver. Wow."

Cinder understood only a fraction of Red's wild gesturing, yet it burned an annoyed, jealous flame in her chest.

"I can think of a way I can help you back at them for such," Cinder gestured to Red's scroll, hoping the added bravado might hide her voice when she leaned closer to whisper, "un-democratic behaviour."

She didn't have to wonder if what she had said was incorrect, not when Red lit up the way she did, taking Cinder's armored glove to lead her through the crowds.

"I know a perfect place to take some pictures!"

[little-eye-guy]

yknow what’s crazyyyyyy

talking to ppl and actually doing something instead of wallowing in misery makes you feel less bad

[canisalbus]

As a survivor of abuse I relate to Machete so much. I've always felt unclean for no reason except being told I was unclean, and it made me feel worthless or revolting by default. Like, no matter what I did I would be filthy and unpleasant to be around.

Seeing that he can be loved, makes me feel like maybe I could be loved too.

.

[nezuscribe]

gojo never imagined an arrange marriage with you, but now you’re all he can think about.

he thinks about you when he’s training, when he’s seated at his round table, when he’s in his bed, everywhere, every time, you’re all he can think about.

and you’re oblivious to it.

you heard the gossip everywhere you walked, about the girl gojo was pleading with his family to marry. how much he loved her, how beautiful she was, how much more elegant she was compared to you. you knew you were never his first choice, not even his fifth, but it hurt even more when everybody acknowledged it.

you stopped wearing your wedding ring, started acting like you were just another person there. luckily gojo didn’t seem to be in any hurry about making heirs, so pretending like you two were working things out didn’t even matter anymore.

you find yourself alone most of the time. your maids were kind and patient, but they had so many things to do throughout the day that you felt awful pestering them to walk around the estate with you.

eating dinners with gojo became normal, but most of your other meals were in silence, always feeling like a speck of dust in the large dining hall.

one day when you’re walking around aimlessly you stumble across the training grounds, the open space below you filled with men swinging wooden swords back and forth at each other.

it wasn’t difficult to find your husband, his white hair hard to miss in a crowd of others. he didn’t notice you watching from above, and so you stayed hidden, not knowing if the men were picky with who watched them.

he was swift and agile. everything he did was precise and with meaning. no wonder he was named the best warrior of the north.

you found this to be more entertaining than walking around the gardens for the tenth time or watching the cooks assemble the next meal, so you didn’t even notice how gojo looked up to see you, somehow slipping away without you knowing.

you were in a state of watching but not really thinking, almost jumping out of your skin when you heard his voice behind you.

“didn’t know i had an audience,”

you yelp, flinching as you look behind you to see your husband all sweaty, panting slightly as he moves his hair away from his face. you eye the stairs that led him up here, wondering how you could’ve missed that.

you laugh sheepishly, giving him an apologetic smile as you pick are your nails.

“i’m sorry,” you scratch behind your ears, feeling heat rise to your cheeks under his intense gaze. it’s unfair how pretty somebody can look, especially after training for an hour straight, “i was just walking around and i saw this.”

he waved it off, shaking his head as he leaned his sword on the wall.

“not a problem,” his eyes shine, “i just would’ve tried harder if i knew my wife was watching.”

my wife.

the words fall so smoothly from his lips you wonder how many times he’s said it before. with malice, hatred, necessity?

you smile a little bit, eyes crinkling around the edges as you look away briefly, not noticing the way gojo chased after your cheerful face.

“how’d you get up here? where are your ladies?” he asks suddenly, looking around at the fact that it was just you up here.

“my what?” you say, looking up at him through furrowed brows.

“you know,” he waves his arm around as if that would help, “you’re ladies in waiting,”

you scrunch up your nose a little bit, something he noticed you did when you were confused.

“oh, well, my maids are working right now,” you tell him, noting that he still didn’t look any less confused.

“no, not your maids, your ladies,” he tilts his head to the side, “the girls your family sent them up to help you around.”

you stare at him, unblinking.

“the girls that are your friends, the ones that help accustom you…” gojo trials off when he realizes he’s not getting anywhere with you.

you feel even more embarrassed than when he caught you watching him, hating the way you were clueless at yet another thing in this life that no one explained to you.

“the girls you hang around with?” he finally lands on, hoping this jogs your memory.

you shake your head, eyes wide as you fidget with the fabric of your dress. his eyes fall onto your finger, lingering on the fact that you’re not wearing your ring.

“who do you spend your time with throughout the day?” gojo seems even more lost than you. he’s seen you with…? well surely that one time…?

“by,” you swallow, embarrassed, “by myself. i walk around a lot.” you admit sheepishly.

“your family didn’t send…?” he answers his own question with his silence.

this entire time you’ve been alone?

he opens his mouth to speak but somebody beats him to it.

“satoru! get down here! we’re still not done!” his friends shouts from below, and you look over your shoulder to see all the men staring at the two of you.

gojo stares at you, unblinking.

“i,” he swallows but can’t find any words.

you can’t either.

he leaves you there, running down those stairs as he shouts at the other guys to resume what they were doing. that entire day he was off his balance because he kept looking up to see you there, but you weren’t.

maybe you were just walking around, like you said.

[mrsbarnesblog]

i am not the only one who saw that, right?

masterlist

summary: your friends find out that you secretly dating their enemy, but their opinion might completely change when they see Rafe from another point of view

words count: 2.2k

warnings: secret relationship, pogue!reader, attempted assault, mention of blood, soft and protective Rafe

a/n: inbox is open for requests💘

“You cannot be dating Rafe fucking Cameron, Y/N!” John B exclaimed, burying his hands in his hair and walking all around the place. 

“No, seriously, this is not a good idea.” Sarah looked at you, giving out a nervous laugh. 

You were currently surrounded by your friends, who were all practically yelling at you after they accidentally saw a message from Rafe on your phone. You were one of the pogues; you never hanged out around the kooks, but somehow, when you were visiting Sarah a few months ago, you got into a random conversation with Rafe, and since that moment, the connection between you two has only gotten stronger. 

It was an instant click and as much as you both tried to deny the spark, it was there. As you started going out, secretly from everyone, of course, you decided to keep it private until the right time. 

“Alright, guys, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew that this would be your reaction. It just happened, okay?” You rubbed the bridge of your nose, already feeling a headache from the tense situation. All of your friends were standing on the opposite side of you and it felt like they were just attacking you. 

“What were you thinking? You know that he hates people like us, like you. We are pogues, Y/N. How the hell did that even happen?” Kiara was standing with her hands on her hips, as her piercing eyes were studying you. You felt awful looking at Pope, who was the one who always supported you, but he just shook his head and stepped away. 

“I don’t know. It just happened. We talked once when Sarah left, then I accidentally met him a few times in town, and then he texted me. He’s not bad when you know him closer.” You sighed. “Look, I know Rafe was a lot of trouble for us. He did bad things; I know that. But he’s not like that; he’s sweet and caring, and he has never shown any sign of being disrespectful towards me. I just can’t deny my feelings for him.”

“Honey, Rafe is not a good person. He doesn’t care about anything or anyone; he’s evil, selfish and manipulative.” Sarah stepped closer to you, touching your hand. “He’ll play with you, hurt your feelings and just throw you away.”

“And he probably just wants to get into your pants.” JJ grumbled, also taking a defensive position. 

“I haven't even slept with him yet, JJ!” You desperately snapped at him. It felt ridiculous, like all of them turned against you at the same time. Sure, Rafe wasn’t the sweetest person to them before, but they didn’t even give you a chance to say something in your defense. “And you’re wrong too, Sarah. All of Rafe’s actions were just to get people’s attention and appreciation. All it took for me to get on his soft side was to just listen to him and give him some affection. Other people didn’t care enough, including you and your father. He needs someone who he can trust and open up to because he’s hurt.” 

“No, Y/N. If you think that he loves you, then he just got into your head. My brother doesn’t love anyone. It will end badly; I just know that.” 

Tears gathered in your eyes, and a lump in your throat made it difficult to say anything back, so you just stupidly stayed there. You had no strength to fight with all five of them at the same time. You turned around, silently getting back in the car, even though your head was filled with doubt and dark thoughts because of their words. 

For the next few days, it was tough for all of you. You and the rest of the group were still close, and even though they were completely against your relationship, you still met and hung out. The pit in your heart was still there, no matter how hard you tried to act nonchalant and not let their words get into your head. 

Rafe noticed the change in your behavior—that you were upset with something—but he didn’t put any pressure on you and allowed you to decide for yourself when you wanted to open up. 

Pogues decided to go to some party on the cut near the beach and as much as you tried to refuse, Sarah and Kiara managed to drag you there. You all rarely went to such places, preferring to hang out in your little circle, but apparently everyone wanted to clear their heads and saw it as the best opportunity. 

It was pretty fun with a bunch of people you did not know, some music, and drinks, and you mostly hung out with your friends. Though quickly it got overwhelming and made you want to go home or at least go outside of the house to get some fresh air. As you left your friends and wanted out from the backyard to a part of the beach, you didn’t notice the guy who had been eyeing you the whole evening. 

He came out of nowhere from your back, his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You yelled at the sudden and unwanted touch, and your heart seemed to drop into your stomach when you realised that it wasn’t just a joke from JJ, who liked to scare you. You started wiggling in his hands to get free, but he was fighting you back, dragging you up when you fell to your knees on the ground. 

It was such a mess trying to scratch and punch him that you almost did not notice his hand coming into contact with your face several times. You screamed again, this time loud enough, until you saw JJ running towards you. The guy behind you pushed you away as soon as he saw someone, and you fell to the ground with a loud huff. 

“That fucking bastard!” JJ was right near you, helping you to get up as tears streamed down your face. He tried to comfort you, checking your body for any injuries, but you pushed his hands away, wrapping your own around yourself in a defensive way.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” You heard Kiara, along with your other friends, calling your name. “What the hell happened?”

“H-he attacked me.” You sniffed, trying to catch your breath and, with shaking hands, reaching to the pocket of your jeans shorts to get out your phone. All of them looked at each other, questioning your actions, until you pressed someone’s contact button and put the phone to your ear. “Can y-you pick me up, p-please?” You sniffed again, now trembling from the adrenaline. 

“Baby? Are you crying? Where are you?” You heard your boyfriend’s concerned voice through the phone, feeling how JJ tensed beside you. 

“I’m on the cut. Near the beach. There’s a party and... Please, Rafe.” 

“I’m coming, angel. Just wait for me, ‘kay?” You heard the sound of the car engine at the other end of the line. Rafe didn’t ask any more questions, and as soon as you mumbled quiet 'mhm’ he ended the call. 

You all heard him before you saw him. The sound of the tires drifting through the sandy street was loud, drawing attention to the expensive car that was unusual to see at this part of the island. 

Rafe didn’t bother to properly park, turn off the engine or even close the door when he saw you sitting on some old chaise lounge, with his sister and Kie trying to talk to you and your other friends arguing nearby. 

The girls stepped away from you as soon as they saw Rafe running towards you with a furious expression on his face and ready to deal with anyone who made you cry. It looked like he didn’t even care about the pogues, with whom he always had to get into arguments; he was fully focused on your shivering form.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” He squatted down in front of you, and you started sobbing again. Your hands immediately found their place around his neck, and, before he could even properly look at your face, you pulled him closer to get some sense of comfort from his warmth and smell. Rafe hugged you back, soothingly rubbing your back. His eyes shot towards your friends, who were watching in awe at the interaction. “Which one of you did that?”

“It’s not us, you idiot. Some guy jumped her when she walked outside.” Sarah said, rolling her eyes at her brother. “JJ heard screaming, and when we walked outside, he ran away.” Rafe pulled away, finally taking in your appearance.

Your knees were covered in dried blood mixed with the sand. He gently took your hands to see the palms scratched from you trying to catch yourself before hitting the ground. Rafe’s eyes were burning with fury, showing his side that he rarely revealed in front of you. His hand reached to move your hair from your face, noticing a red, now already turning purplish, bruise covering the side of your cheek.

“Holy shit, sweetheart.” He softly brushed his fingertips along your cheek and you leaned into the touch, closing your eyes. Your bottom lip started quivering and you bit inside your cheek to calm yourself down. “Sh-h im here, okay? You’re safe. Did you see him? What did he look like? Just tell me and I’ll deal with it.” He almost begged, but you only shook your head. JJ suddenly stepped closer, slightly hesitating to actually normally communicate with his longtime enemy,  but he thought that it was the least that he could do for you.

As much as he hated The Kooks King, JJ knew that Rafe was the best option to find the guy who hurt you. 

“Tall, with dark and curly hair. Never seen him before, probably someone new on the island, but I’ll recognize him.” They looked at each other for a moment, and Rafe just simply nodded, turning his attention back to you. 

“I’ll find him, ‘kay? I promise I will.” He gently took both of your hands in his, bringing them to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. “We should go now. I need to take care of your knees and that bruise, baby. You don’t mind going to Tanneyhill, yeah?”

“Thank you, Rafe.” You whispered, slightly bending forward to ask for a kiss. Rafe smiled at you, his thumbs gently swiped the leftovers of the tears under your eyes, and then he kissed you on your forehead, nose, and gently pecked your lips. 

Your heart flattered at his soft touches and for a second, it felt like you two were in your own little bubble. Rafe's eyes shimmered slightly in the moonlight, and the way he looked at you, soft and caring, made you want to kiss him again and again. You suddenly snapped out of the trance, looking back at your friends, who all had different levels of shock and uncertainty written on their faces. 

“C’mon, pretty girl.” Rafe stood up, lifting you in bridal style without an effort, carefully not to hurt your bleeding knees. He almost walked away, but then sighed, turning back to look at his sister. “You coming home with us or somethin’?”

“Um, no, I’ll be with John B. It seems like I would be third wheeling with you anyway.” She shrugged, not being able to keep a smile when you two met with your eyes. 

Rafe then looked at JJ, thinking his words over. “I appreciate it, Maybank.” 

They exchanged a tight nod, both slightly shocked that for the first time ever, they communicated without biting each other's heads off. You leaned closer to Rafe, comfortably nestling in his protective hands, and looked at your friends, who were still too shocked to say anything. 

“I’ll see you guys later, okay? 

Everyone agreed, saying goodbye to you and asking you to text them when you get there safely. They saw how Rafe made sure to slowly put you into the passenger seat, then circled the car and drove away. An awkward silence fell around them, everyone at a loss for words. 

“Okay, so I am not the only one who saw that, right?” Pope spoke first, looking around the place as if he were trying to find something. “Rafe freaking Cameron just was acting cute and didn’t threaten to do something to us?” His own body physically shrugged at the word ‘cute’.

“I don’t know, dude. We all just probably drank something and it’s messing with our heads.” 

[syllikins]

You can't convince me that Sylus doesnt know anything.

He knows how he looks. How he says certain words. How he manipulates any situation to sound disgustingly nasty with and without context.

Sunscreen? Ear cleaning? Alright bud.

Day to day life with Sylus would be him making regular things oddly sensual for the hell of it because he likes seeing you embarassed. Before and after the 2 of you start dating he was already making you all tingly by helping you fold clothing or something. Just reminding you he is a man and he knows the 2 of you have some serious unspoken chemistry and sexual tension no matter how you try to shake it off.

"Its hot, help me unbutton my shirt."

He just wants to show off.

Help him apply some lotion?

He just wants your hands running all over his slutty waist.

You're onto him. And he pretends to be so innocent.

"But i just wanted your help" he practically pouts in his voice as he feigns ignorance.

Yeah whatever Sylus.

You love it though. You get to grab and feel a man like that? Where is the dotted line?

Help him fix his tie? This is just a little turn on for him.

Now he doesn't think it goes well with his outfit so he needs you to take it off.

You look so cute when you're frustrated.

Now he can gently caress your face as he whispers in your ear about how cute you look with your little attitude as you practically tear the tie off him and tell him to quit pestering you. But no need for you to be upset right? The tie has other uses.

He has to punish you for snapping at him about how difficult he was being earlier. But he really needed your help though?

Now you can't stop cumming from his fingers.

"Sylus- wait...i'm sorry.." you whine

You're terribly overstimulated.

"Hmm?" Like he didn't understand what you just said.

Aw too bad.

Your hands are bound by that acursed tie.

© syllikins 2024

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

╰┈➤ a/n: 2022 me would skin me alive if she ever found out im being vocal abt liking eddie munson

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@lokis-army-77

⭒ Cozy

Waking up the day after Eddie has fucked your brains out you have a little more fun.

⭒ Private Viewing

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple

⭒ Next Caller

Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.

⭒ You Look Lonely

Eddie finally had it all, success, money, and fame. There was still one tiny problem he had.

@ceriseheaven

⭒ Cockwarming with older!Eddie (blurb)

@natti-ice

⭒ “Let me taste you” (blurb)

⭒ "B-baby please, I'm gonna-" (blurb)

@msgexymunson

⭒ Shotgun

You're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek? 

⭒ Benefits

Your best friend Eddie starts to look very appealing to you, but if you suggest a dynamic change, will he go for it?

⭒ Soft Touches

you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.

⭒ The Ink Shop

Desperate for a job, you answer an advertisement not knowing it's a tattoo shop. It's not particularly difficult work, except for one thing: having to deal with Eddie Munson.  

@eddiethefreakkmunson

⭒ Not So Accidental Invitations

Tired of ignoring your ever growing attraction to your roommate Eddie you "accidentally" send him a partial nude, his reaction is everything you had hoped it would be and more...

@bimbobaggins69

⭒ Love in the Locker Room

you go into the boys locker room with a plan to steal the polaroids your now ex boyfriend took of you to show off to his friends, but the last thing you suspected was to be met with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and his very big friend.

@luveline

⭒ Topaz, Lime, Ruby Red

Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect.

⭒ Is It Getting Too Much?

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can).

⭒ If It Barks

You don’t mean to make an enemy of Eddie Munson — he’s handsome and talented, but he’s the biggest jerk you’ve ever met. Eddie thinks you’re infuriatingly pretty, emphasis on the infuriating.

part one | part two | part three | part four |

⭒ Was That So Hard?

Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want?

⭒ Dark Matter

You ask your best friend Eddie to give you your first kiss. Eddie's not really in the habit of saying no to you.

⭒ Something Extra

You're having trouble sleeping and pot seems like the only solution. Good thing your dealer, Eddie Munson, knows of another method that he's willing to to teach you. You get more than you bargained for when he tells you what he gets off to every night - you.

@usedtobecooler

⭒ Desperate!Eddie (blurb)

⭒ eddie "monstercock" munson

eddie ‘monstercock’ munson, who is painfully unaware of the sheer size of his dick.

@munson-blurbs

⭒ Dark and Stormy

A missing key and a terrible storm leaves you and Eddie stranded in the back of his van. What ever shall you do to pass the time?

@eiightysixbaby

⭒ Take A Dip?

eddie wants to get you in the water with him while you're alone at the community pool. he ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

@galaxy-siren

⭒ Biggest Fan

@lonelysatellites

⭒ Safe Hands

Sex has never been a pleasant experience for you. Selfish partners, anxiety, and pain have all ruined something that you should enjoy. You’re convinced there’s something wrong with you, but Eddie is determined to prove otherwise.

@eddiernunson

⭒ I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

⭒ The Splash of Rain on the Roof

you're best friends with Eddie Munson after moving to Hawkins, the new girl who ditches the cheerleaders for the Freaks. A year later, you've fallen head over heels for him, and you're convinced there's no way he has any interest in you. It finally seems confirmed when you find out (more or less) that he's into a fucking cheerleader. Your heart breaks.

@bbyhellfire

⭒ missionary with eddie (drabble)

eddie didn't care for missionary until he meets you

@oneforthemunny

⭒ Soft!Eddie (blurb)

@kiwi-bitchez

⭒ The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around.

@/gaybybirth on ao3

⭒ Double Feature

When you're forced to go to a double feature showing of the Halloween movies with your brother and his friends, you find yourself, like usual, interacting with Eddie Munson. But it doesn't take long for the platonic line to be blurred and things to heat up.

⭒ Show Me

You ask Eddie to show you what you've been missing out on after he discovers your boyfriend never went down on you.

@eds6ngel

⭒ Romantic!Eddie blurb

@gxtitobxby

⭒ The Princess and the Freak | Part 2

“I can’t help but dream of his head between my thighs, how his hair would feel against my—”

@/mediocredreams on ao3

⭒ Extra Credit

Your professor offers you a very personal in-home tutoring session.

@/ghostproofbaby on ao3

⭒ Twenty Four Hours

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

(Y'ALL MUST READ IT ISTG ITS SO GOOD)

@/decembersfinest on ao3

⭒ Living After Midnight

Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head.

@littlexdeaths

⭒ Band Practice

when band practice doesn’t go as planned…

@eddiexmunsonlover

⭒ One Step Away From You

You move back to Hawkins after 3 years away to finish out your senior year. Can you salvage the friendship you once had with your ex best friend, Eddie? Will you be able to push down your deeper feelings for him, or will it all come bubbling out in disaster?

@/nerdsarehot on ao3

⭒ A Kiss to Remember

⭒ Flustered

@/GreyPetticoats on ao3

⭒ Wing Man

Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wingman for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

@eddiesghxst

⭒ Riding Eddie drabble

@eddiemunchem

⭒ that puppy dog typa love

eddie is fiercely loyal, doting, and affectionate — when he’s enamored, you’re everything; his whole world. so just don’t mind the fact that he clings to you like a sloth to a tree, yeah?

[barbiiecams]

doubts

drew starkey x younger!reader (like 19/20 sorry not sorry 😭), reader calls drew “papa” *not in a weird way*, smut, in love w the age gap concept cus of @native2princess ! <3

you watched yet another video on the internet of drew down at disney world without you, but with his friend group that all had a few years on you.

he would send pictures of everything that was cute or that reminded him of you, and you really did appreciate it. but it still didn’t swallow the lingering feeling in your gut.

you weren’t even invited. it was obvious why since you couldn’t even buy a drink legally, let alone not even close with half of them, but for some reason it still hurt and had you questioning things even further about everything.

you swore that you guys were drifting apart.

not only did that make you sad, but it also left you scared and questioning everything.

the only thing that made you wonder why you two were drifting like you thought you were was because of the age gap.

was he getting tired of you? was the age gap starting to become a burden? were you just too immature?

and let’s not even get started on how drew acted around his female friends — that were once again a lot older.

all you could do was just cry. it was a dumb reason to cry about, but you don’t wanna lose drew yet you really think you are. he was your first and you hoped he’d be your last, but who knows where you two may end up?

seeing how he acted with his friends currently was already ruining you. now you found yourself down a rabbit hole of searching through old videos of him before you were even dating.

it was crazy, of course you were aware of that. but it did nothing but further increase your worries seeing how he would act around these girls. all older than you and all more outgoing.

so now here you were, stalking your own boyfriend while you sat in your bed, silent tears streaming down your face.

currently, drew was now in paris for the fashion show. he wanted you to come, but it would be too difficult for you. plus school had just ended and both of you knew that you were planning to spend more time with your family this summer.

regardless of that, this feeling was awful. you’ve had old puppy-love heart breaks during highschool with guys you dated just to say you were in a relationship, but this is real. a real committed relationship you’re in with a guy a little over 10 years older than you.

he’s so mature. so are you, but not entirely. you still had a lot more to experience and learn, and he was always so patient.

but maybe now that patience was wearing thin.

you sniffle one more time before closing out all your apps and throwing your phone on the nightstand next to you. wanting to sleep it off and praying you’d wake up feeling better, your insides just were not letting that happen. not to mention you couldn’t fall asleep without at least getting a goodnight text from him.

laying down was no use. as soon as you tried to lay your head down on the pillow and just relax, the overthinking just continued to grow. there was no escape from these thoughts and it was just eating you straight alive.

you huff while turning over, switching sides and seeing if that would help. spoiler: it didn’t.

all you could do now is groan while sitting up. a certain thought ran through your mind that you really didn’t want to go through with, but did you have a choice? you already felt as if the end of things are near, so why let him break your heart (even though you’d be expecting it) when you can just do it the hard part first?

with a sigh, you reached over to grab your phone and open drew’s contact. everything was making you sick. you just stared at the screen, skimming over the conversation you had earlier.

it was the usual. ‘hows your day’, ‘i miss you’, ‘this reminded me of us’, all the cute stuff.

but it just didn’t hit the same. that feeling of him leaving you because of your age wasn’t going anywhere, and it was making you feel insecure on extreme ends

your fingers started typing. there were no real thoughts, just your pure raw emotions. you hit backspace a couple of times, you sat there and thought about the next few words you were going to say, but eventually you got it all put together it pained you type, but it pained you even more contemplating on whether or not you should send it.

‘hey drew. i’ve been missing you a lot recently and i know it’s weird and you’re going to question why i sent this after you read it, but im sorry. i really do feel like you’re leaving me soon and it’s taking a toll on me badly. i don’t want this to end but i can tell that it is and i just know + feel like we’re drifting apart. i feel like it’s because of my age so i really do understand and respect that. we can talk more once you get back because i hate to do this over text but i can’t just bottle my feelings anymore. goodnight 🩷’

a few more seconds of contemplation, you hit send and stared at the screen. you didn’t know how he would respond so you should’ve been shutting off your phone and running away.

but you didn’t. you stared at the screen and waited until he read it.

thankfully, it didn’t take him any longer than three minutes to open your message, and soon after, the dots were bubbling.

drew himself was lost. confused wasn’t even the word for the long paragraph you just sent him. he even started triple texting you.

‘???’

‘what are you talking about baby?’

‘i’m so lost’

you sighed reading his texts. he didn’t get it, realistically you shouldn’t have expected him to. it was out of the blue, and little to your knowledge, he didn’t think for a second anything was wrong between you too.

when you didn’t answer him as soon as you read it, he went back to typing.

‘answer me’

‘i’m really confused and worried. it’d be nice if you stopped leaving me on read’

‘call me now’

you didn’t even have a chance to start typing because you had an incoming call with drew’s name on it. you didn’t wanna pick up, but you knew you had to because if the roles were reversed, oh you’d definitely be throwing a fit.

swallowing quickly, you hit the green answer button to drew’s facetime call but moved your face out of the camera.

he’s walking, most likely back to his hotel with furrowed eyebrows and an expression that you think showed… annoyance?

drew’s the first one to speak up, “y/n, what the hell are you talking about?” he says sounding very confused and very upset as well.

“i feel like we’re drifting apart apart i don’t know.” you replied. your voice isn’t even a third as stern as his. it’s not stern at all nor convincing.

“where is that coming from? what are you talking about it’s our ages?” he questions you again.

you really hoped a fan wouldn’t come up to him. not because it would interrupt the call, but because they would be walking up on him pissed off and getting a taste of his very apparent bad mood.

you sighed, “it’s just how i feel. maybe i’m not mature enough for this.”

his face scrunches with confusion even further. he then looks down to his screen to see the ceiling you were showing.

“why do you all of a sudden feel this way? you are mature. if you weren’t, this relationship wouldn’t be a thing in the first place.”

this was something else you wanted to avoid; him being mad at you. you hated making him upset and now that you were already upset, and he was just getting annoyed with you, it wasn’t helping and it made you feel worse.

“show me your face baby. you know i don’t like talking to walls.” he says once you don’t respond to his actual voice this time.

reluctantly, you put your face in the screen. sitting up and cuddling onto your bed sheets.

“y/n, nothing is wrong. we aren’t drifting apart at all so i don’t know why you feel otherwise. we’re okay and you know this, baby. stop overthinking.” he reassures you.

before you could finally respond with anything else, you heard a few girls calling his name from the other side of his phone. good luck to them!

“i’ll call you back. we’re not done talking.” he says, then swiftly hangs up.

you wanted to puke. you hated being in any type of conflict with people, let alone being in one with drew.

a headache was starting to form, and it forced you to lay back down and sleep. you kept your phone right next to you on your bed, just in case drew woke you up by ringing your phone again.

—

you weren’t sure when the previous night you fell asleep, but you didn’t wake up until 12 the next day. and that was due to your doorbell ringing multiple times at once.

you whined at the fact you had to leave your warm bed, but you slowly made your way down your apartment’s stairs, rubbing your eyes and forcing yourself to wake up.

opening the door ready to curse out whoever had the nerve to wake you up at this hour, it was drew standing at the door with flowers in one hand and his stuff in the other.

now this is what really woke you up.

“how are you here…?” you questioned.

he exhales, “soon as we hung up yesterday i checked out and booked a flight here. we really need to talk in person.

you step to the side to let him in, then he shuts the door behind him and hands you the flowers.

both of you take a seat at the table. “i need you to fully explain what you’re feeling. that paragraph honestly made no sense and as soon as i read the whole thing i knew i had to get down here.” he says.

you press your lips together before speaking. “i’m sorry.”

he makes a face of puzzlement and also motions for you to keep going.

“maybe im not mature enough for this, drew. i don’t know.”

“what makes you think that? what happened or what did i do that has you questioning everything?” he asks, reaching out for your hand.

you sniffle before continuing, “i just feel like im holding you back. you’re buying drinks, going to clubs and hanging out with your friends who are all around your age and im still in school. it’s not working-”

he cuts you off before you can finish that. “those aren’t reasons, baby. it is working. do you feel left out or something?”

“no it’s just,”

there’s a pause before he says something again, “just what? i don’t understand what’s got you so in your head.

“i don’t know how to explain it. i just think you’re drifting from me because of where we’re at in life and i hate it.” the words finally form, and you can feel a little bit of weight being lifted off your chest now that you’ve got it out.

his expression now shows a face of understanding, then he’s standing up and swiftly making his way over to you, lifting you up before securing your legs around him.

you let out a squeal at the action. when he was balanced, he made his way upstairs to your room with you in his arms.

stepping into your decorated room, he throws you down on the bed then hovers over you. “i’m gonna prove to you that you deserve this relationship.”

his lips make their way to your jaw, leaving little lovebites on them, then down to your neck and chest.

your hands fly to his buzzed head. you let out soft sighs at his lips being on your body, a feeling you loved the most.

his hands travel to your pajama shorts then dipped into the waistband of your panties. as hes taking them both off at the same time, he distracts you by now placing his lips on yours, slowly making out with you.

now your hands are taking action, working to get is shirt off to see his toned body once again. when it’s off, one hand is still on his head while the other goes down to his abs, feeling on him.

now he’s starting to get quick, fumbling with his belt and pants, ready to do you into the mattress.

sooner than later, both of your clothes are off and in random sports throughout the room.

his middle and ring finger are inside you, stretching your out as you moan and grind into his hand.

drew’s cock is laying there on your stomach, practically reaching your ribs. this was just another reminder of how deep he really goes when fucking you.

you could barely keep your eyes on him while his fingers worked you. “that feel good?”

you moan out a “yea.” you definitely couldn’t let him go. the way he could make you fall apart with just his fingers is crazy as it is.

“i bet, baby. already so wet. you know what you want huh?” he coos.

this makes you nod. “want your cock, please.” you reach your hand down to where it rested on you, but he moves your hand away.

“i know you do. but i need this pussy stretched and ready for me.” he responds

“i can take it! promise! just give it to me,” you whine.

drew gives in at your begging. he removes his fingers from inside you before sticking them in your mouth.

he grabs his cock before lining it up with your entrance. he slowly pushes in, making you whimper around his fingers. it hurt a little bit, but the pleasure overrode the pain.

“shhh,” he hushes you, putting his cock in all the way and forcing you to take all that he gave you.

you continued to let out sounds because of the pleasure he was giving you. drew was letting out groans of content himself.

“feels so good, baby. so fucking good.” he throws his head back.

his words did nothing but turn you on more. your eyes squeeze shut before you guide his hand out of your mouth and onto your throat, signaling what you want from him.

he smirks before moving his other hand to your throat, choking you slightly but enough that you can still breathe.

“yea you like when i go hard on you, right baby? this pussy just loves when i go rough on her, doesn’t she?” he teases.

“mhm!” you squeak, loving the feeling of just taking all of him so deep and so rough.

he makes your legs cross completely around him before leaning down into your neck.

this was your favorite position. you being on your back, him groaning in your hear and putting hickeys on your neck, it was so much at once and you loved it real bad.

his lips are right next to your ear. “i’m not going anywhere, yeah?”

he lets out another sound before continuing, “you’re not leaving me either. neither of us are going anywhere.

your breath catches in your throat when he says this. maybe this was all you needed. some reassurance, and a good pounding to go with it.

he sits up before pulling out to turn you around. now that you’re flat on your stomach, he slides right back in with a hand on your lower back right before your butt and the other pushing your head down into the pillows.

you screamed out when he started thrusting all over again. it hurt so good, you just wanted to do this forever him.

you tried to move away slightly because he was just going ham on your poor hole. but all it took was you reaching one hand up, gripping the sheets and trying to pull away before he yanked your head back by your hair. he then brought your back up to his chest and held you by your throat.

“stop running, baby.” he growls into your ear.

“it’s so deep tho, papa.” your eyes squeeze shut as your mouth hangs open.

he kisses right below your ear, “you’re fine.”

that bubbly feeling started to form again. you were about to cum, and somehow drew could always tell too.

“know you’re gonna cum, mama. hold that shit.” he tells you as he pushes you back into the sheets.

right now that request just didn’t seem possible. “i can’t!”

he gives your right cheek a firm slap. “you can and you will. don’t make me say it again.”

you guys stay in this position for a while. him just hitting it from the back deep and all you needed to do was lay there and take it like a good girl.

his good girl.

suddenly, he flips you back over, then lays down himself setting you on top. now he’s got his feet planted on the bed, thrusting up into you.

at this angle, you guys can see the belly bulge happening from how deep his cock was. just proving how big he really is again.

“see that baby? that’s me. all up in those guts.” he says to you.

you throw your head back, but he cups the back of your head to bring you down into him, chest to chest.

“y’the only one who gets fucked like this. y’know that? only one who deserves it too,” his arms wrap around your waist now. “only fucking one.”

his lips are practically on your ear as he says this. you’re only able to nod, but he wants to hear your voice.

“tell me you understand that baby, say it.” his thrusts slow down, but there still deep, and he’s angling it to make sure he’s hitting that good spot.

“i…”

another slap hits on to your cheek. “say it, princess.”

“yes! i understand!” you finally moan out.

“yes who, baby?”

“yes papa!” your voice is weak now.

he smirks at your submission and continues to fuck you hard. more than just a few thrusts later, he’s letting out a lot more groans than what he already was.

“shit baby… y’gonna make me cum soon. you gonna let me put it in you, hm?”

“drew…”

his hips are starting to stutter. “know you’re ready to cum too. been holding it in like papa told you too, good girl. fuckk.”

his arms are really really squeezing around your waist, keeping you still so you can’t try and move from his brutal thrusts.

“cum with me baby girl. got a big load for you.” he moans.

“don’t knock me up.” as good as the moment felt right now, you were dead serious about that.

he chuckles, “i won’t baby. know you wanna feel that cum all in your stomach tho.”

you moan one last time before finally cumming around him. you couldn’t hold it back anymore, no matter how much he told you to wait for him.

but your own orgasm sent his off. he felt you come undone around him, and two seconds later you felt his hot sperm fill you up.

drew’s arms moved from around your waist to seriously gripping your hips down, not letting you waist a drop of what he had to give you.

moans and deep breaths were coming from the both of you. that was the most intense sex you guys had for a while, not to mention the first time he’s actually came inside you.

when he finally came down from his high, he slowly pulled out of you and just let you rest on his chest.

“thank you,” you quietly speak up.

he doesn’t respond, but he smiles and kisses your forehead.

minutes after just sitting in silence, he sits up against your headboard and takes your face into your hands.

“baby, when i say youre what i want i mean it. if you weren’t mature enough for me, i wouldn’t still be here.” he says. you don’t actually answer, you want him to keep going.

“i love you so much, sweetheart. nothing about that is going to change and nothing can make it change. i don’t know what you saw or if i did something, but im sorry. okay?”

you nod with a smile. “okay.”

he smiles back at you then pressed his lips against yours, giving you a nice firm kiss. which slowly turned into a makeout.

you guys pull away just to catch your breath, “we gotta get you packed up, sweetheart.”

“for what?” you ask.

“i’m taking you back to paris with me.”

[msfantasy-comics]

The Family Meet and Greet

Damian Wayne x Reader

Request/Summary: Hey hun! I wanted to send in a request for Damian Wayne x reader. Maybe reader being introduced to the family/the family finding out about them?

A/n: Honestly I can’t tell if the picture is Tim or Damian.

Masterlist - Tip Jar

Damian is a pretty private person and doesn’t intend to do an awkward meet and greet with his beloved girlfriend.

He knew that all of his family members would find out one way or another anyway.

Dick Grayson:

It wouldn’t take a genius detective to know that Damian is asking for advice for his love life.

Damian sits in his hero costume, hunched over as his legs dangle over the side of the building. His eyes evade Dicks, a red hue spreading across the tips of his ears.

A soft smile embellishes Dicks lips as he sees his younger brother whom is typically egocentric, now looking timid and shy for the first time ever.

“So my friend started seeing someone recently and he had this dilemma on if he should keep seeing her or not because on one hand he has all this baggage he doesn’t want to burden her with and on the other hand he just can’t bring himself to break things off with her.”

“So this girl your seeing-“ Damian’s eyes bulge, snapping his neck towards Dick, acting too defensively.

“Ugh, are you not listening Grayson? I said it’s about my friend.”

“Right, right, I forgot. My bad…” Dick think’s carefully on his words. “Sounds like your friend is a classic over-thinker. Relationships are far from logical, it’s all based on feelings. It might be hard for your friend, but just enjoy it for what it is.” Damian sits and stares off over the Gotham skyline looking unconvinced. “Look Dames, there is no right answer. Just do what feels right.”

Leaning back into his palms he stares in amusement at his beloved younger brother continues pining in anguish.

“So… how long do we keep pretending that we aren’t talking about you? Can I see a picture?” Damian rolls his eyes with a sigh, sliding his phone out of his pocket, he taps on the screen silently before shoving his phone into Dicks hands.

There laid the image a happy couple. Damian’s arms wrapped around your shoulder. The dark city filtering behind the brightly lit couple, forever captured in permanent laughter.

Dick, initially keen to tease the cheesy photo before him, now silent in pure aw to see the genuine smile, Damian’s eyes lit in adoration.

“Do not tell anyone Grayson. I will share the news when I am ready.”

Tim Drake:

The little rat has been acting rather odd.

Tim tried talking about it to Dick but he just kept evading his questions by pathetically redirecting his attention with someone else’s random drama.

They’re both acting weird and secretive, and there is no way Tim is going to be kept out of such an intriguing mystery.

Usually Tim would just stalk his targets, but this is Damian we are talking about. It is incredibly difficult, if not impossible to track Damian without him noticing. Starting with Damian’s social media, Tim pin points all of the photo locations and begins to visit each site one at a time. He hacks the local cameras and reviews the footage from around the date the photo was uploaded.

Low and behold, footage of Damian smooshing his face into another ladies face….

Whelp, Tim was certainly not expecting to see such a DISGUSTING display of affection. YUCK.

He didn’t even know the rat could even feel those types of feelings.

Tim, now laying on his bed cuddled up to a pillow is looking… traumatised.

Sometimes, it’s better just not to know.

Barbara Gordon

No freaking way.

Barbara could not believe her very eyes.

When completing a Internet background check on the Wayne family to scrub any suspicious allegations or accusations, Babs found the Holy Grail of finds.

An account with a mysterious woman with months worth of photos with the Wayne’s local angsty brat, Damian Freaking Wayne.

When completing a generic photo match search. Lovey, dovey poses with Damian and a girl by the name Y/n flashed up on the screen.

This is juicy! To tell Bruce or not to tell Bruce, that is the question.

Jason Todd

Disgusting. Absolutely foul.

It’s a random Tuesday evening when Jason jumps roof tops only to discover a couple making out all hot and heavy.

Their bodies tangling together as the man rips his shirt off. The girl sliding her hands along his abdomen before landing on his belt buckle.

The man then slides his hands from the back of her neck to her ass, giving it a needy grope before sliding his hands to the back of her thighs, lifting the woman with ease and pressing her against the wall.

This is hilarious, they have no idea Gothams most infamous Vigilante has caught them about to get down and dirty on Gothams roof top.

Jason sat down and ate his figurative pop-corn in humourous delight, until his eyes adjust.

“Ain’t no FUCKING way!” Jason yells, humours delight now churning into a disturbed nausea. He swallowed the bile raising up in his throat.

Pulling out his phone he calls Damian. Panting breaths filter through the phone, only furthering Jason’s disgust.

“What?! I’m in the middle of-“

“I know what your in the middle of you sick bastard! Take it indoors!” The line goes quite for just a moment. “Little freak, your family patrols the roof tops you know, ugh, I can’t - I’m having a flash back to Selina and Bru- ugh I’m gonna vomit.”

Duke

“Finally!” Duke announces, hoping over the back of the couch and sprawling out on the soft cushions of the plush couch. Without a second to spare Duke switches the TV on to watch the latest episode of his favourite show.

“Thomas-“

“No talking!” Duke wholesomely announces, crossing his arms over his chest.

“My phone… forget it.” Damian grumbles, seeing Dukes eyes glued to the TV. Squishing further into the cushions, Duke feels the uncomfortable poke of a hard object pressing into his rib.

Wrenching the wretched object from its place, Duke holds a phone. His haphazard fingers pressing into the screen which lights up and shows the text of a person named Y/n.

Y/n: Can’t wait for our date tonight, I miss your handsome face xx

Dukes cheeks heats up, seeing a private message he shouldn’t have seen. Damian is incredibly private and may murder Duke for accidentally learning something he wasn’t suppose to.

Wiping any evidence of his fingers touching the phone Duke places the phone back between the cushions.

Best if he just abandons his show for now for a tactical retreat.

Bruce Wayne

God, why are his kids so weird?

Seriously? Out of all 20 of them, not a single one was normal…

Sitting at the head of the dinner table, he watches his children talk amoungst themselves in weird cryptic speeches.

“Do you know what I know?” Tim asks intensely, the broccoli wedged on his fork, pointing at Dick, who stares back wide-eyed.

“I don’t know anything … why what do you know?” Dick says scanning the rest of the room to see if they somehow knew what Dick was referring to.

“I can’t share what I know, but just know it. Is. Juicy.” Babs announces with a sly and taunting grin.

“I don’t know anything, I didn’t even want to see it. Oh god, I’m feeling queasy.” Jason says crossing his arms over his stomach.

“IDidntSeeAnythingEither.” Duke announces quickly, and begins to quickly Hoover his dinner.

Damian sighs, massaging his temples at his idiotic siblings.

“So I take it that you have all found out about Y/n?” Bruce asks calmly, slowly sawing into the plump steak on his plate.

The room falls dead silent as all heads turn towards Bruce, surprised that he knew and surprised that he had the guts to say what everyone else was thinking.

“Father, how do you know about Y/n?”

“… I’m Batman.”

[minnies-puppydoll]

can can i request how they deal with boners in public? or like, how they deal with you turning them out (intentionally or unintentionally)

Skz Headcannons:

turning them on in public ~*

OT8 x reader HCS..

warnings: degredation, exibitionism, frottism, very tame?

your order is ready☺️ smut below the cut!!!!!!!!!

Chris:

• shy and giggly. he can’t believe half the stuff thats coming out of your mouth! (as if he hasn’t said worse)

• he’ll be hiding his red face in his hands and doing that cute squeaky giggle he always does🤭

• when he actually does get hard though, he’ll be looking around and crossing his legs, accidentally gaining a bit of friction from his jeans on his hard cock.

• but be careful, he’s a teaser too😖

•he wont make you regret it, he’ll just play along until you’re dripping and begging to go home

• (hes gonna find excuses to stay longer to get back at you)

“oh, so now you wanna go home, hm? i don’t know…ask me later. or beg me now, maybe ill decide then.”

Minho:

• will 100% laugh at your pitiful attempts to get him hard.

• he’ll just watch you with a smug/bored look on his face while you just end up riling yourself up.

• if his body ends up betraying him and he in fact is hard, he still won’t appear embarassed.

• if anything, he’ll grab your hand and have you feeling up his cock through his pants like the whore you wanted to be that day.

“did you have your fun, kitty? or did the poor slut get herself needy and wants me to take responsibility?”

Changbin:

• flustered and side eyeing you.

• he’s shifting in his chair and rubbing his plush thighs together, begging you silently to stop talking.

• its not difficult to make him hard, he never forgets the way you look on top of him, so teasing him with that image in public is torture!

• it’s when you start ghosting your hands over his cock that he’s immediately asking for the check and grabbing his keys😭 he does NAWT wanna do that shit in public but he’s literally this close to bending you over.

“let me take you home? i just need your hands, please? ill treat you so good, i promise, just let me take you back home?”

Hyunjin:

• thinks it’s kinda fun, treats it like a game/competition.

• he can hold out pretty well, but alas he’s just a boy😔

• it’s like his default setting to be inside you so he isn’t going to last very long. he just wants to feel his sweet girl.

• he’ll hide it, but will definetly show it you purposefully. he’ll lean back on something, exposing his hard on to you, biting his lip as he watches your reaction.

• or he’ll pull you into a bathroom stall and press his clothed bulge into your tummy, looking down at it and holding your hands. wants nothing more than to see your nails running along his long, hard cock.

“look how hard you made me, hm? want it? think it’s pretty? you made it, so i think it’s pretty. my little artist.”

Han:

• poor baby tries so hard to resist.

• he’s shying away from your hands and whining at you to stop when you tease him with words.

• he could never comepletely say no to you though, so he’ll let you palm his cock for a while.

• he’s arching and subtly grinding up into your hand. biting his lip while his cock leaks, trying not to get caught.

• he tries his best not to make any sounds, but he still lets whiny sighs slip through his mouth. ends up cumming in his pants anyway, only wanting to go home so he could change😭

“ah..shit..can- can i cum? or should we..go home? fuck..it’s too late. don’t stop- cumming!”

Felix:

• he doesn’t get it. he doesn’t understand why you would be saying all of these filthy things and feeling him up in public?

• he just thought you must be feeling needy. he reaches his hand over in pity, thumbing at your clothed clit and looking around to not get caught.

• your words do get to him though. as soon as you call him a few names he’s chubbing up in his pants.

• when you reach a hand over to him too, he realizes how suspicious this looks in public and just decides to finally take you home.

“aw, my poor girl. c’mere, ill make you feel as good as i can while were out. unless you wanna go home? no? my baby wants people watching?”

Seungmin:

• also shy about it.

• he doesn’t care much about the words (even if they do get his leg bouncing)

• its when you start touching him that he gets him wide eyed and flushed.

• he’ll grab your wrist and whisper-yell things like “you can’t do that, were in public!” at you.

• he’ll squeeze his legs shut and look at you with a slight sheen of excitement in his eyes. he’ll start stroking your ankle with the tip of his shoe, while resting his head on his hands. he’ll play along a bit for now.

“hm? what? am i not allowed to play with you too? touching me and saying such filthy things in my ear, who taught you that, huh? such a slut.”

Jeongin:

• he’s amused, but still suprised at your boldness.

• he has a wide smile on his face, mouth hanging open and his hand dramatically pushing you off of him.

• will deadass run away like he doesn’t know you

• if he gets hard oh lord he’s hunting you down.

• he doesn’t care if you’re in a bookstore, he’s finding the isle you’re on and dragging you out😭

• he’s laughing like he can’t believe that just happened, but trust your pussy is done for when you get home.

“yah! look what you did! couldn’t wait 10 minutes could you? eager slut. im taking you home, and you’re fixing this.”

[luveline]

PLEASE IM BEGGING I WILL SELL MY FAMILY FIR THIS

More flirty bombshell reader but Spencer was just let out of prison and now instead of just getting all hot and bothered he flirts back 😼

Love you and your writing pooks 😏😚🫶🏾

love you! fem, 1.1k

This has been the longest eighty four days of your life. Not even three months apart and yet it's felt as long and arduous as three years, and so you do what you must on the day Spencer is released from Milburn; you take your time putting yourself back together, preening and polishing, as pretty as you've ever looked. 

Penelope looks good too, JJ as well. The girls are here to represent, and that's without mentioning Luke's general unbelievable physique. 

You're pissed at being left outside but you can manage. You can cope. You don't think Penelope, bless her huge heart, is going to fight you for Spencer's attention. Not for a good five seconds. What to say first? I miss you, I love you, I'm so fucking sorry I let this happen, that I couldn't do more. 

He appears behind a grate door, Luke at his side. Then the grate is opening, JJ with tears in her eyes behind him, and every idea of what to do goes out the window. 

Your breath catches before he's so much as touched you. 

"Hey," you say. It starts well, ends weak, tears in your eyes as you choke, "hey, handsome." 

"Hey," he says, hugging you with more care than you're expecting. "Oh my god, hey." He lets out a sigh of relief, his face dipping down to press against your shoulder. You feel the familiar curve of his nose and hold your breath to stop from crying.

You let him go a selfish ten seconds later, but Spencer keeps your hand as he hugs Penelope, one-armed. It's awful and selfish and you don't care, you go in for the second hug on tiptoes, arms behind his neck, your mouth pressed as high as you can reach on his face. A mess of lip gloss is left behind when they finally crowbar you off of him long enough to get in the car, and even then you're clinging to his hand, worried someone will take him again, that you won't be able to do a thing about it. 

You wrap your arms around his and hug him on the drive back. You can't stop looking up into his face. Spencer, unflinching, meets you there, his eyes a little glassy, his face sallow but getting better. 

"Missed me?" you ask quietly. You've only so much privacy. 

"So much." 

"Like a hole in the head?" 

Spencer leans down an inch. "No, like, I really missed you." 

"Of course you did, you–" Spencer leans down suddenly and disarms you, his breath warm against your cheek. 

"I what?" he asks, kissing your cheek. 

"You haven't been away from me that long in years," you breathe. 

"It took getting used to," he says agreeably, speaking low, his breath hotter still as he kisses upward. Two kisses, that's all they are, but when he sits straight again you're thrown. 

"But you got used to it?" 

"No," he says, smiling at you like you've made a funny joke rather than thinly veiled insecurity spoken in a desperate attempt to garner some reassurance. 

It was difficult coping with the hurt of his having left you in the dark. You knew he was doing something he shouldn't have been, but you never for a moment imagined this outcome. You worried (deep down, and not for his ears) that he'd met someone new, that he'd grown disinterested in your years of love and life. Of you. Especially as he's matured, which is to say he stopped looking like he was about to walk the stage at New York Fashion week and started dressing sharp as a tack. Your Spencer stayed yours, but he got older, and you did too —you look older. You're still yourself, high maintenance, prideful, sweet, but you're not the same. 

Between the distance that bloomed with his secrecy and his growing maturity, you were caught off guard. And then not long after he was arrested in Mexico and you couldn't get him out no matter what you did, or who you begged for help. 

Spencer brings his hand to your cheek, tilting your head one way slowly, and then the other. There's confidence in his touch that you've felt before, just never to this extent. 

What happened to you? you think. 

"I'm sorry," he says. 

"For what, sweetheart?" you ask, meaning it implicitly. He's your sweetheart. He's everything. You're too high on his return to want an apology. 

"For everything. I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you." 

There's something you can work with. "Oh, you will?"

"I promise." 

Mindful of your friends in the front seats, you press your cheek into his hand, turning your head just enough to touch your lips to his palm. His eyes are dark brown where they meet yours, pupil and iris one and the same. "How?" you murmur. 

Spencer brushes his thumb against your bottom lip. Something in his eyes speaks even as he stays quiet, a light, an amusement, as if to say, I know exactly what you're doing, but it won't work. 

I'm not a saint, you say back with a sheepish smile. You close your eyes and let your head fall into his shoulder. He hugs you close despite the lack of room, his chin landing atop your head gently. "You'll have to try harder," he whispers. 

"Don't know what you mean." 

"Months of missing you and the first thing you do is try to torture me." 

"That's our thing." 

"No, our thing is me worshipping the ground you walk on," he says into your hair, hand squeezing as it roves up your arm, reassuring himself that you're there, that you're real. 

"Like I wouldn't do the same if you'd let me. I would've done anything." He probably can't hear you anymore, your voice a suggestion of sound. "I would've done anything if I thought it would…" get you back to me.

Spencer does you a favour of ignoring you. Later, you know he'll bring it up again. You'll have time, because he's going home. For now he does his best to hold you together in the company of others, always thinking about what you need. "You look so pretty today. Is that for me?" 

"I always look pretty." You haven't felt it lately.

"I know. Maybe it's because I didn't see you for so long… It's like seeing you again for the first time." 

Your chest aches in a strangely nice way. "And how are you coping, handsome?" 

He rests his cheek on your forehead. On paper, you're flirting. In actuality, you're being one hundred percent honest with each other. "I'm not. My blood pressure has gotta be 180 over 110 right now."

"I love it when you talk medical to me." 

"I love you." 

You nose at his suit sleeve ineffectually "I love you." 

[permanentlyfemale]

⚠️ Feminization, Misgendering, Forced detrans kink ahead! ⚠️

Today is a scary day for you. As a trans man, finding the right therapist is far more difficult than it is for most people, especially as you weren’t looking for just a new therapist today. You also need someone to write you a top surgery letter. Although you’ve only been on T for 2 months, barely enough to notice anything besides an increased libido and clit growth, your breasts are by far your biggest source of dysphoria. You often wear two binders when you’re going anywhere, and even then, a sizable bump is visible on your chest. You’re hoping they may become easier to bind with hormones, but you already know that you’ll need surgery regardless.

“Milo Brown?” A masculine voice calls your name from across the room. Glancing up, you see a very attractive man, much taller than you, looking to be in good shape under his professional attire, but not overly muscular. His dark shoulder-length wavy hair and stubble complement his gentle, masculine face and warm brown eyes.

Surprised by the man’s beauty, you stumble on your words as you rise from your seat. “I- uh- I’m here.”

“Great! Let’s get back to my office.” He smiles warmly and gestures for you to follow him out of the waiting room and down a hallway, passing mostly empty offices on the way. This doesn’t seem too odd, as there was construction on the lower floor. Maybe some patients didn’t like the noise and cancelled? Or maybe you’re trying to distract yourself from thinking of the exceedingly attractive man that may soon be your therapist. You’ve considered yourself gay since coming out, but starting hormones has certainly made that attraction all the more apparent.

As he opens his office door, you’re surprised by how casual it is. There’s a long couch next to an armchair, with a clipboard set neatly on top. His desk is to the side, seemingly ignored while clients were present in favor of a more personal layout. Thinking of something to say as you sat on the couch, you spit out “I like your office.”

“Thank you Milo, I spent a lot of time thinking of the anatomy of the room and how to make my clients most at ease. I find this works best.” He smiles at you, his eyes gentle and enticing. “I’m Dr. Sterling, I specialize in support for LGBT and FTM clients. Nice to meet you! Tell me a but about yourself and what brings you here.”

“My name is Milo Brown, I’m 19 years old, and I just started testosterone. I’ve been out as trans for a while but finally got access to hormones and I’m hoping to get top surgery as well, but I need a letter for it. I also just need support with my dysphoria and depression.” You cross your arms over your large chest self-consciously.

“Well, that’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Can you tell me more about your dysphoria regarding your chest?”

Shifting uncomfortably in your chair, you hesitantly proceed. “Every day is awful! They’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and I go to sleep trying not to feel or think about them. They’re so big and heavy that I feel them whenever I move and it makes me so dysphoric. It’s also impossible to make myself flat, so I never pass. As a gay man, it’s so hard to find a man who would want a guy with a body like mine!”

“Oh, Milo, I think that’s very negative thinking. Plenty of men would find you attractive! I thought you were quite beautiful when I saw you myself.”

You’re surprised by his words! That sounded very flirtatious, but maybe he was just trying to boost your ego. Either way, it made the empty space between your legs tingle when he said it. You also didn’t know he was queer, but it definitely makes you more comfortable with him. “Well… that does make me feel better. I still don’t feel comfortable with my chest though.”

“Why don’t we try something? This is an exercise I’ve done with plenty of my transmasuline patients before, and it has always improved their lives and helped with dysphoria. While we do it, I can assess you for top surgery as well! How does that sound?” He smiled at you expectingly.

“Uhhh… yeah, that sounds good. What are we doing?”

“I’m just going to have you answer some questions about your body and dysphoria. This may get uncomfortable, but it’s all part of this process. I’m sure you can trust me, right?”

“Of course!” You answer instinctively.

“Right. First, I want you to take off your shirt and binder.” He instructs casually.

“What!? I thought we were just answering questions. Is that necessary?” You’re again surprised, he wasn’t a surgeon and you had never shown anyone your chest before. You didn’t want to look at it yourself, much less this beautiful man you’re expecting to see regularly!

“I understand this is surprising and uncomfortable, but I want to understand your perspective on your body, as well as assess the size and density for surgery. I need to know this for the letter, and I understand this is very important to you. I’m sorry for the discomfort, Milo.” He looked at you apologetically, his brown eyes sparkling, staring in to your soul and shooting down between your legs.

“I… okay.” What he was saying did make sense, and you would do most anything for this surgery. Resolving to just get this over with, you take off your oversized hoodie and throw it on the couch next to you. Grabbing both binders at once, you exert a herculean force squeezing yourself out, panting as your huge breasts fly out. You blush with embarrassment as a loud clap can be heard from them swinging together.

Dr. Sterling calmly walks closer to you. “Do you know your cup size?”

“Uh… no, sorry.”

“That’s alright, we can measure now.” He smiles warmly and pulls out some measuring tape. Without hesitation, he walks up to you and wraps it around your chest! He first measures your underbust before moving to measure your bust. His hands rest on your breasts as he does so. “Alright… looks like you have J cups.” His hand brushes your nipple as he backs away.

“Mmph!” Involuntarily, you let out a short, feminine moan. Both the dysphoria of knowing your overwhelming cup size and your accidental vocalization leave you embarrassed and blushing harder than ever.

“It doesn’t seem like you’ve experienced any vocal changes from testosterone.” He observes.

“Umm… not yet, no.”

“It also seems like you have quite sensitive nipples?”

“I guess…”

“Well, have you ever considered embracing your breasts?”

“Huh?” You were confused. They made you sad and dysphoric, how could you ever embrace them? He did say whatever he was doing worked for all of his other transmasc patients, but this seemed absurd.

“Your breast are way too big to bind properly. I’ve seen you wearing two binders in here, and that is not healthy. As your therapist, I can’t encourage you to damage your body in such a way, and especially without two binders, you wouldn’t be able to hide them at all anyways. And why go through the trouble of binding if everyone can tell? It might do you some good to just accept your body as it is. It’s not like whether you bind now will affect surgery.”

Unfortunately, everything he was saying made perfect sense. Even when binding, it was very obvious you had breasts. Why go through all the trouble, especially if it was hurting your body? You were dysphoric either way, might as well be more comfortable physically. “I guess… I guess you’re right.”

“Yes… unfortunately it’s also not very possible hormones could reduce them to a bindable size either.”

This devastated you. Even later on testosterone, you would have obvious breasts? How could you expect anyone to take you seriously as a man? You had hoped to begin passing in public soon, and finally begin living comfortably, but you weren’t so sure now. Would it even be safe to live as a non-passing trans man? Why were you going through so much for hormones if there was no hope of passing before surgery anyways? Maybe you should just wait until then for hormones- no one will gender you right as you are now. “Maybe… maybe I should pause testosterone until surgery then.”

“Yes, I can see why. That might be the safest option for you.” He nodded solemnly. “We can practice some exercises to reduce dysphoria until then, if you’d like.” His frown shifted in to a comforting smile.

Still upset, you nodded.

He moved closer and, before you could react, placed one hand on each perky, round breast, grabbing you by the boobs.

Surprised, you squeaked.

“This is just to get you used to your breasts. It often helps most when someone else does it, so you’re more comfortable with other people seeing them.” He gently squeezed and pulled, running his fingers along your supple breasts, warm palms pressing your hard nipples.

“Mmmmmm-! Oooh!” You let out a series of feminine wails as the doctor palms at your breasts. They were so sensitive and they felt so heavy- so wrong on your body- and yet they sent waves of pleasure throughout your curvy figure.

“Are you still going to go by Milo? I mean, you’re stopping T until surgery because you won’t be able to pass. It would be weird to only keep the name and pronouns, especially for strangers.” His hands shifted to thumb at your nipples.

Your thoughts were flooded with waves of pleasure shooting from your tits. The importance of this decision didn’t fully register, but what he was saying made sense to you. “You’re right.”

“Good girl.”

“Huhh…”

“People are going to refer to you by what you look like. You know you don’t pass. This is just exposure training, okay?”

“Okay…” You mindlessly agree as he moves his head close to your breast.

“See? You are a good girl.” He starts to suck on your nipple, causing you to throw your head back and wail in pleasure. You don’t know when his own clothes came off, but he’s getting on top of you and pulling your pants off, leaving you in just your boxers with his much larger biologically male body pinning you down, suddenly kissing your lips.

“What… what are you doing now, d-doctor…” he cuts you off as you pant your words out.

“The easiest way to adapt to and accept being seen as a woman is to have sex with a straight man, one who can use you as only male can use female. You need this, Amelia. It’s okay.”

Hearing your deadname makes you cringe with dysphoria. You’ve always felt an aversion towards it, despising the femininity it signaled. You struggle to reconcile your attraction to the doctor and trust in his methods to your current panic. This all felt good and sounded logical but it’s happening too fast to react, and these are all such big decisions, and suddenly he’s pulling your boxers off.

“Your pussy is so perfect. You make such a sexy woman.” He rubs the length of his cock along your clit and hole. The distinction between your pathetic nub and his masculine length is obvious. He gropes your massive jiggling breasts, squeezing them together and lowering his head to kiss and suck your nipples as his dick prods your entrance.

“Doctor Sterling…” You moan his name as his assault on your tits grows heavier. He sloppily makes out with your huge boobs, enjoying every second he can get drowning in your massive breasts.

He momentarily pulls his mouth from your tits. “Yes… fuck, Amelia!” He rams his hard cock all the way inside you, hitting your cervix as he moans your deadname, resuming his assault on your massive wobbling boobs all the while.

You scream and wail, unsure if it’s in pleasure or some mix of dysphoria and grief for your lost ambitions. Whatever male identity you insisted on was currently obstructed by your massive tits and the straight man enjoying them as he pounded in to your soft, tight vagina. Anyone who saw you two would know immediately that this was heterosexual sex- they would never stop to consider you could be anything but a curvy woman being held down and fucked by a handsome man. Suddenly, the doctor’s thrusts sped up. You forgot condoms, and you’re barely on T!

Right as you open your mouth, he interrupts. “I’m gonna cum, Amelia! I’m cumming inside you!” He holds himself against your cervix, comforting you as you begin to scream. “Shhh, good girl, it’s okay.”

You feel his hot cum flood in to your unprotected pussy, tears falling from your eyes. Feeling the sticky cum start to leak out, you manage to speak. “Do… do you have a towel?”

“Uhhh… here!” He grabs your binders and rips them both, turning them in to makeshift towels as he pulls out, along with a flood of cum.

You know you said you wouldn’t bind anymore, but having the option taken away made everything all the more real. You know it was for the best tho. He specializes in helping trans men, and he said this always works. You just have to trust him! As time runs out, you don’t even realize you forgot to finish your top surgery letter.

Still… you couldn’t wait to book your next session.

[whoistartaglia]

love letters

how genshin men write you love letters

a/n: i’m alive!

neuvillette’s love letter is meticulously written and the closest thing to perfection found in this corporal realm. his calligraphy is neat as are his words; he spends little time with the flowery words and sweet nothings, and gets immediately to the point: confessing his love to you. he’s hinted at it, and you’ve reciprocated back, and neuvillette wanted to cement his confession with ink and paper. the only crinkle of imperfection that mares the otherwise unworldly beautiful letter is a touch of shakiness to the last sentence, the only question in the entire letter. asking you if you might feel the same.

childe’s love letter had to be written several times, and even the final version has some crossed out words, and arrows leading across the page, pointing to where he picked back up. the words themselves are sweet if not a little chaotically inclined (as is he; his nature showing right through the words on the parchment). it’s not so much as a confession than simply proclaiming his love for you, given to when you’re already in a relationship. (if you should ask why there are so many mistakes, he’ll tell you the truth: putting his love for you in mere words is a difficult feat.)

scaramouche’s love letter is a mess of words and a rage of emotions. it was never meant to be send to you, and he only showed you late in your relationship, when he felt comfortable enough to let you in. he started it as a way to express his emotions and their twisting and churning, whenever it came to you. scaramouche couldn’t understand them at first, and to an extent, he still is unable to fully quantify the emotions he feels towards you. but the words on the page, the half sentences and fragmented clauses, paint enough of a picture, and the love he shows you already is enough to fill in the gaps.

diluc’s love letter is impossible for him to write. it’s awful, it’s terrible, and every word is wrong—not that there are many words to begin with. diluc never thought himself to be an overthinker, but writing this love letter is proving that original notion wrong. every sentence he crafts in his mind sounds wrong when said aloud and he has worries they will look even worse on paper. so he leaves the few sentences he has alone, few soldiers on the battlefield, and decides to give you the letter anyways, hoping that you’ll still reciprocate what’s on the page, even if it isn’t much, even if he wants to tell you much more, but for some reason, cannot.

zhongli’s love letter is painfully gorgeous, even if the words sting and feel like a thorn to the heart. how he can turn a breakup letter into something so beautiful sounding is beyond you; you wish he would just get the point, that it’s not working out, that it’s over, without all the purple prose. reading it over and over again, you get the feeling that he was delaying telling you, even through writing. that he didn’t want to tell you it’s over using plain, cold words, but wanted to tell you with words that exude the last rays of sunshine and a breeze before dark. (it hurts all the same. more, even.)

alhaitham’s love letter was as unexpected for you recieve as it was for him to write, because you thought being with him was an impossibility, a maybe of the past that never came true. but then he handed it to you before he left, giving to you words he could never quite that time ago and still can’t quite bring himself to say now. but the letter, carefully crafted and laced with vulnerability and a tenderness only ever glimpsed from him once or twice, express what he cannot. what you do now with this newfound information is up to you: take a chance on something you thought died, or leave it alone, maybe without hope of a reprisal this time.