#anyone of them is like interesting enough

[wandanatrules]

Can you do g!p WandaNat fighting over reader but they just agreed with each other to take reader at the same time at a college party.

Three’s A Party

Hi guys! Thank you to all those that sent requests, please keep them coming. I kind of took this one loosely. I didn’t do the threesome part but if enough of you guys comment saying you want it I will write a part two!! I didn’t really feel like proofreading it (sorry it’s kinda ass).

word count: 1.8k

pairing: Beefy popular g!p Nat x Nerdy beefy g!p Wanda x cheerleader fem reader

warnings: smut, nat and wanda have penises, cursing, name calling, oral, drunkenness, penetration, foul language, dirty talk, roughness, voyuerism, potential threesome, slight angst, (let me know if I missed anything!)

“Tonight is the night I am finally gonna bag y/n. I can’t wait, she’s been catching my eye for a while now, being the only girl who hasn’t thrown herself on me.”, Natasha said, while looking in the mirror and making her final touches before the party.

Wanda’s head popped up at Natasha’s words. “Wait, what do you mean? I was gonna try to talk to y/n tonight.” 

“Wait damn Wans I had no idea you were into y/n like that. I guess the best one wins.”, Natasha said with a friendly nudge on the shoulder before heading out the door of their shared apartment.

The best friends arrived at the party together in Natasha’s car, immediately being swarmed by girls, Natasha in particular. Being the star basketball player and wrestler at their college, makes Natasha perfectly built with a figure that is to die for.

Wanda on the other hand was your typical nerd. While she does have an incredible physique herself due to her tendency to workout and strength train when she’s stressed, her focus on her studies keeps any attention away from her. 

And you were just the typical popular cheerleader, who just so happened to be very familiar with Natasha. You were always in the front cheering her on in her sports and congratulating her on her wins. While you tried to make it obvious you want her it seems as though she is always distracted by the hundreds of girls waking up in her bed. But tonight you were determined to be the last one to be in her bed.

Across the floor of the party you saw the pair chatting while sipping on their respective drinks. Natasha was wearing a black wife beater with a loose pair of carpenter pants and a black leather jacket. Her thick red hair was cascading down in full waves. She was talking with a shorter redhead who you didn’t know but had seen her with a couple times but it never seemed to be romantically, so you weren’t threatened.  

“Okay fine only because you’re my best friend. I'll back off and I'll let you talk to her first, but if she’s not feeling you I'll shoot my shot. Okay?” Natasha said as she saw you looking in their direction getting ready to come over.

Wanda sighed, that’s not what she was hoping to hear. The truth is that she lied about wanting to talk to you. She only said that to keep Natasha from talking to you, so she could talk to Natasha. Yeah she talks to Natasha everyday but she wants Natasha to talk to her the way she talks to the millions of girls in her bed every night.

”Hey y/n it’s good to see you again.”, Natasha said as she wrapped her hands around your waist in a tight intimate hug. Wanda bites her lip holding back a growl at the sight.

”Oh my god natty, you are so strong i bet you could pick me up and squat me.” You said with a flirty grab to her bicep and your classic bambi eyes.

”I probably could, hopefully I see you next time I'm in the weight room. But um I don't think you met my friend Wanda.” Natasha said while pointing you in the direction of a shorter redhead with a nice build as well. 

“Oh hey Wanda nice to meet you, I'm y/n”, you said hurriedly and dismissively, not interested in talking to anyone but Natasha at the moment. 

“What are you drinking Natty? Why haven’t you gotten me a drink yet?” You said teasingly, taking her drink and making a show of putting your mouth to the tip of the bottle. 

“Yeah go ahead Nat buy her a drink I'll be fine.” Wanda said, waving you both off.

”Are you sure?” Natasha mouthed before you pulled her away.

Wanda nodded her head before going off to find something stronger for herself to drown her sorrows. 

“Alright let’s cut to the chase natty, do you not think i’m pretty?” You said scooting closer to her on the couch you two ended up on.

”What y/n I think you are absolutely gorgeous baby.” She said putting your hair behind your ear. 

“Okay well then i want you to take me somewhere and show me just how gorgeous you think I am. Okay natty?” You said in her ear before she shot up and led you out the room by your wrist.

The two of you wandered down the halls of the frat house, before stumbling into the first empty room. She closed the door and pushed you up against it putting her lips on yours in a rough kiss. Parting your lips, she let her tongue lazily roam around the inside of your mouth. 

“mmhm” you moaned into the kiss, before pulling away for air. While you were catching your breath she moved to kissing your neck and sucking a hickey right onto your pulse point making you moan even louder.

”mhm can I take this off baby.” She said while tugging on the fabric of your dress.

”Yes please take me to the bed.” you replied while she tore your dress off and threw you on the mattress.

“No bra baby? I knew you were a slut.” She said while grabbing handfuls of one breast and popping the other into her hot mouth, giving you pleasure that no man has ever made you feel. 

“Please take your clothes off too, natty. I want to see you.” You whined as she pulled back from your breast with a trail of spit before wiping her mouth and standing up. She threw her jacket across the room and stepped out of her pants, making a show of slowly unbuttoning her shirt so you could see her incredibly defined abs. 

You got on your knees and moved towards the end of the bed, impatiently ripping the rest of the shirt off. She laughed while discarding her bra, leaving her in only her boxers.

You reached out to grab her bulge. “ I wonder if it’s as big as all the girls say it is.” You say looking up at her while gently massaging the bulge.

”Only one way to find out I guess.” She said with a smirk gesturing for you to take the boxers off. 

You reached up and pulled the waistband down, eyes widening when her seemingly foot long penis popped out and hit you in the face.

” Wow and it’s thick too.” You giggled while looking up at her and jerking it between your hand spreading the precum along the length.

”Go ahead and see how it tastes.” She said grabbing a handful of your hair to pull your mouth on her dick. “mmhm just like that baby.”

She slowly starts to move her hips, thrusting herself down your throat. She tastes better than any man you’ve ever sucked, most likely a result of her diet and exercise.

”Shit, I can tell you’re a fucking professional, i’m gonna have to keep you for myself.”

You take your mouth off and continue to jerk her off while you look up and nod fervently, hearing exactly what you wanted to hear. 

“I’m real close, are you gonna be a good girl and swallow it or do you want me to punish you?” She said, increasing the intensity behind her thrusts. 

“No please I want it so bad, natty.” You said sucking the life out of her before she released her load down your throat. “very tasty” you said after swallowing it all and wiping your mouth. 

“Oh my god, where did you learn that? Hopefully you won’t be disappointed when I return the favor.” She said pushing you back on the bed, while pulling your panties down your legs.

She hovered over you and kissed you on the lips, before kissing her way down paying special attention to your breasts again. When she finally made it to your cunt she licked a stripe through the wetness, groaning at the taste.

”You are so wet, baby. It tastes so sweet.” She said looking into your eyes with a smile. 

“Please natty, it’s aching so bad.” You begged for her to continue.

”Don’t worry baby. I got you.” She licked her way through your cunt again circling your clit. Latching on, she takes two of her fingers and rubs them through your wetness before inserting them. She furiously sucks your clit into her mouth while curling her fingers, pistoning them into your cunt.

”Damn you are so tight I can’t wait to feel myself inside you.” She said while watching your cunt swallowing her fingers.

”Ugh i’m so close, natty please.” You said ready to let go.

”Go ahead and cum for me then.” She said while furiously rubbing your clit, before you inevitably let go.

A hot gush of liquid squirted out of your cunt hitting Natasha in the face. Smiling, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to catch your arousal.

”Oh that was so hot I got to get you to do that again. I never pegged you as a squirter though.”

”No one has ever made me do that before, but it felt so good.” You said with a goofy grin trying to catch your breath. 

“It was my pleasure, plus you taste delicious.” Natasha said before kissing you on the mouth, sticking her tongue in your mouth so you could taste yourself. 

“I know you’re still hard, I don’t think I need to beg you to fuck me. Do I?” You said pulling back and looking up at her. 

“Such a slut, I'm gonna teach you to watch your mouth.” She said, flipping you over and pulling you into your hands and knees. 

She slaps your ass and spits onto your cunt, before slipping in and bottoming out on the first thrust. 

“I knew you were gonna feel incredible, so fucking tight.” She moans while continuously slapping your ass. Speeding up her thrusts with so much intensity that the bed keeps knocking against the headboard.

”You fuck me so good natty, you’re so big.” You moan with a heavy breath, reaching back to feel her. 

“Are you on the pill? I don’t want to waste my load on your ass. I need to cum inside.” 

“Yes please I am cum inside me.” You begged.

Walking down the hallway of the frat house Wanda was stupidly drunk wanting to find somewhere to relax, because she figured Nat, the unrequited love of her life, had left her. Stumbling into the first room she saw, she slightly cracked open the door and was met with a heartbreaking sight. But she couldn’t help but watch. 

After a while of thrusting, Natasha felt this weird sensation of being watched, so she turned around and caught a glimpse of Wanda peeking through the door. She laughed to herself, not expecting Wanda to be such a perv. 

With a smirk she asked, “Have you ever had a threesome, y/n?”

”Yes I love being used by two people at once.” You said with a moan. 

“Okay. Come on in Wanda, I don’t mind sharing.” She said before hearing the door creak the rest of the way open. 

comment if you want a pt. 2!! 

[princess-of-purple-prose]

[ID: A collection of tweets by bobby 🐀 #BENIGN DEVI… @/bobby_speeds that read:

"the System really convinced Shen Qingqiu that the Jade Guanyin token could be used to save his life later, so he held onto it despite wanting to return it, and then when the time finally came to use it, the System withheld it until it was too late to actually save his life

"I know I'm just theorising but like, it's SUCH bullshit that it had to "load" the item. That had literally never happened before, but it just soo conveniently meant that SQQ had no choice but to choose another "scenario pusher"

"It wasn't enough for SQQ to just pull out the token, calm Binghe down and let them talk about their feelings, which by ALL rights should have been what happened, if SQQ and Binghe had just been people in a real world instead of characters in a narrative

"but it just doesn't make for an interesting climax, so it couldn't be allowed to happen. the audience (the in-universe readers of the revised PIDW, but also, like, us) would have found it underwhelming, so who cares how badly it traumatised the people involved??

"The System is just so fucking horrifying when you look past the cutesy emoticons. It acts cheerful and silly all while threatening SQQ with death or punishment and will happily make anyone suffer in the interests of "the narrative"

"I won't ascribe malicious intent to the System. It's an unfeeling entity that exists for no other purpose than to create an interesting story without regard to its characters' lives, but that in itself is way more scary.

"people LOVE watching characters suffer. I love it!! I like happy endings but I NEED an interesting middle. reading it, analysing it, thinking about it. the maigu ridge scene is horrific, but I'm literally deriving entertainment from it right now!! I'm having fun writing this!!

"and I hate the system so much, but what would this story be without it?? can any of us honestly say we'd enjoy this story half as much if SY had woken up in PIDW and lived a peaceful life of spoiling his disciples with no abyss and none of the major conflicts that resulted?

"The System is just the most incredible villain. It's terrifying and uncomfortable but it's us!! it did those things for US!! for our enjoyment as readers!! and we ate it up. we loved it. WE did that to them.

"The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System (Image of a Tumblr post that says: “Based on my obsession with the concept of The Narrative I think we should invent a new kind of tumblr/twitter discourse where we argue that it's inherently immoral to write fiction because its prevents characters from exercising free will” / “'girl help my characters are unionizing'”)" End ID]

[elryuse]

ANTHEM pt.2

Multiple Female Idols X Male Reader

Tags : HAREM, MULTIPLE FEMALE LOVE INTEREST, BLACKMAIL, SEDCUTION

Words : 3,4k

For My Other ANTHEM Stories, Please Kindly Check Over Here. Hope You Guys Enjoyed It.

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow over Y/n’s room. He stretched lazily, his mind still hazy from the events of the night before. The memory of Karina’s touch lingered on his skin like a delicate burn, and he couldn’t help but smile as he replayed their secret moments in his head. But the smile faltered when he remembered Winter—her sly grin, the photo she took, and the way she had left him with that ominous promise.

Y/n dressed quickly, trying to push his unease aside as he headed to the practice studio. The other members were already there, gathered in their usual spots, chatting and stretching. Karina caught his eye immediately, her lips curving into the faintest smile. They didn’t speak, but the warmth in her gaze was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

“Good morning, oppa!” Wonyoung chirped, waving energetically. Her bubbly energy was infectious, and Y/n couldn’t help but laugh as he returned the greeting. Yujin gave him a playful wink, while Chaewon and Yeji exchanged knowing smirks. It was always hard to tell if they were teasing him or just being their usual mischievous selves.

But then Winter walked in, and the atmosphere shifted.

She sauntered into the room with an air of confidence that demanded attention, her eyes locking onto Y/n’s almost instantly. There was something about the way she looked at him—like she knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. Y/n’s stomach twisted as she approached, her lips curling into a smirk that made his pulse quicken.

“Morning, everyone,” Winter said sweetly, though her gaze never left Y/n. “I was thinking of grabbing some coffee. Oppa, you should come with me. I need someone strong to carry all the drinks.” She paused, tilting her head slightly. “Unless anyone else wants something?”

The others murmured their orders, barely paying attention as they continued their warm-ups. Y/n hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Before he could protest, Winter turned to him, her phone already in hand. She tapped the screen once, and Y/n felt his blood run cold.

It was a photo—blurry but unmistakable. Him and Karina, tangled together in his bed. His heart slammed against his ribs as Winter leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Let’s go, bae,” she purred, slipping her arm through his.

Y/n’s mouth went dry. He glanced at Karina, who was watching them with a frown of confusion, clearly unaware of what was happening. Unable to think of a way out, he nodded stiffly and followed Winter out of the room.

The walk to the café was tense, the silence between them thick with unspoken tension. Winter hummed a tune under her breath, her fingers brushing against his arm every so often as if to remind him she was still there. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Relax, oppa,” she said, her tone light but laced with something darker. “I’m not going to bite… yet.”

Y/n swallowed hard. “Winter, what do you want?”

She stopped walking and turned to face him, her expression suddenly serious. “What do you think I want?” she countered, stepping closer until there was barely any space between them. Her perfume enveloped him, sweet and intoxicating.

“I don’t know,” Y/n admitted, his voice shaky. “But if you’re planning to blackmail me—”

Winter cut him off with a low laugh. “Blackmail? That’s such a harsh word. Let’s call it… negotiation.” She reached up, her fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw. “You see, oppa, I’ve always been curious about you. The only guy in our group, surrounded by all these beautiful women…” Her hand slid down to his chest, resting over his pounding heart. “And yet, you only seem to have eyes for Karina.”

Y/n’s breath hitched. “Winter…”

“Shh,” she whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. “Don’t say anything. Just listen.” Her eyes locked onto his, gleaming with a mix of mischief and desire. “I’m not asking you to stop whatever it is you’re doing with Karina. I’m just saying… why limit yourself? After all, sharing is caring, right?”

Before Y/n could react, Winter closed the distance between them, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was both demanding and teasing. He froze, torn between pushing her away and giving in to the heat building between them. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding against his in a way that sent shivers down his spine.

When she finally pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing was uneven. “Think about it, oppa,” she murmured, her voice husky. “No one has to know. Not Karina, not the others… just us.”

Y/n’s mind raced, his thoughts a jumbled mess of guilt, desire, and fear. He opened his mouth to respond, but Winter pressed a finger to his lips again, silencing him.

“No need to answer now,” she said with a sly smile. “We’ve got plenty of time.” With that, she turned and continued walking toward the café, leaving Y/n standing there, his heart pounding and his world spinning out of control.

As he followed her, he couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to spiral even further out of his grasp. And the worst part? A small, traitorous part of him wasn’t entirely opposed to Winter’s proposition.

The café was bustling with activity when Y/n and Winter arrived, the chatter of customers filling the air. Winter’s hand lingered on his arm a moment longer than necessary as they stepped inside, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him. She flashed him a mischievous smile, one that made his stomach twist in a mix of anticipation and dread.

“Let’s grab our drinks,” she said, her voice light and breezy, as if nothing unusual had happened between them. But the glint in her eyes betrayed her casual tone. She sauntered over to the counter, hips swaying slightly, and Y/n followed, his heart still racing from their earlier conversation.

As they waited in line, Winter leaned closer to him, her breath warm against his ear. “You know,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing, “this place has the best storage closet. Perfect for… private conversations.”

Y/n stiffened, his pulse quickening. He glanced at her, trying to gauge whether she was serious or just toying with him again. But the way she looked at him—her lips parted, her gaze heavy with intent—told him everything he needed to know.

Before he could protest, Winter grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the line, leading him down a narrow hallway toward the back of the café. His mind screamed at him to stop, to turn around, but his body betrayed him, following her willingly. The thrill of danger, the forbidden nature of what they were about to do, was intoxicating.

She pushed open the door to the storage closet, a small, dimly lit space filled with shelves of supplies. As soon as they were inside, she closed the door behind them, plunging them into near darkness. The only light came from a crack under the door, casting faint shadows across their faces.

Winter didn’t waste any time. She pressed herself against him, her hands sliding up his chest. “You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you?” she whispered, her voice dripping with confidence. “Admit it, oppa. You want this.”

Y/n’s breathing grew shallow, his resolve crumbling under the weight of her words. “Winter, we shouldn’t—” he started, but she cut him off with a sharp look.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said, her tone firm yet playful. “I can see it in your eyes. You like the risk. You like the idea of doing something you know you shouldn’t.”

He couldn’t deny it. The truth was, there was something undeniably thrilling about being alone with her like this, knowing how wrong it was. And Winter knew exactly how to exploit that.

She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging gently as she brought his face closer to hers. Their lips met in a searing kiss, full of pent-up desire and reckless abandon. Y/n’s hands found her waist, pulling her even closer as their bodies pressed together. The heat between them was overwhelming, a fire that threatened to consume them both.

Winter broke the kiss, her breathing uneven, and began unbuttoning his shirt with practiced ease. Her fingers traced the lines of his chest, sending shivers down his spine. “So strong,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “No wonder Karina can’t keep her hands off you.”

The mention of Karina made Y/n flinch, guilt gnawing at the edges of his mind. But Winter didn’t give him time to dwell on it. She kissed him again, deeper this time, her tongue exploring his mouth with a hunger that left him dizzy.

Her hands trailed lower, unbuckling his belt with nimble fingers. Y/n’s breath hitched as she reached for the waistband of his pants, her touch deliberate and unhurried. Every movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through him, erasing any lingering doubts.

Winter dropped to her knees, her eyes locking with his as she slowly pulled down his pants. The intensity of her gaze made his heart race even faster. She ran her hands up his thighs, her touch feather-light, before leaning in and placing a soft kiss just below his navel.

Y/n’s head fell back against the wall, a low groan escaping his lips as Winter continued to tease him. She took her time, savoring every reaction she drew from him. When she finally took him into her mouth, he couldn’t hold back a gasp, his fingers tangling in her hair.

The room felt impossibly hot, their bodies slick with sweat as the tension between them reached its peak. Winter paused, looking up at him with a wicked grin. “You taste amazing,” she purred, before licking a trail of sweat from his stomach. “Salty… and so addictive.”

Her playful gesture sent another wave of desire crashing over him. He pulled her up, crushing his lips to hers as he fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. Once it was off, he cupped her breasts through the thin fabric of her bra, eliciting a soft moan from her.

Winter arched into his touch, her hands working quickly to remove the rest of their clothes. They stumbled backward, knocking over a stack of boxes as they moved. The sound of clattering items echoed in the small space, but neither of them cared. All that mattered was the electric connection between them, the undeniable need driving them forward.

When they finally came together, it was with a sense of urgency, their bodies moving in perfect sync. Winter wrapped her legs around his waist, her nails digging into his back as she whispered his name over and over. Each thrust brought them closer to the edge, their breaths mingling in the confined space.

Just as they were about to reach their climax, Winter pulled back slightly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Not yet,” she breathed, her voice shaky but determined. “I want to make this last.”

Y/n groaned in frustration, but he didn’t argue. There was something exhilarating about letting her take control, about surrendering himself completely to her whims. She slowed their pace, drawing out each movement until the tension became almost unbearable.

When they finally let go, it was with a shared cry of release, their bodies trembling as they clung to each other. For a long moment, they stayed like that, catching their breath and basking in the afterglow.

Winter was the first to break the silence, a sly smile playing on her lips. “We should probably get cleaned up,” she said, gesturing to the mess they’d made. “And grab those drinks before anyone wonders where we are.”

Y/n nodded, though his mind was still reeling from what had just happened. As they dressed quickly, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt creeping in. What would Karina think if she found out? And what about the others? But Winter seemed unfazed, humming softly as she adjusted her hair in the reflection of a metal shelf.

When they finally emerged from the storage closet, the café was just as busy as before. No one seemed to notice their absence, let alone suspect what they’d been up to. Winter linked her arm with his, leaning in close as they approached the counter.

“Order whatever you want,” she said with a wink. “Drinks are on me. Oh, and don’t forget…” She lowered her voice, her breath hot against his ear. “This is just the beginning, oppa.”

The café buzzed with life as Y/n and Winter returned to the table, drinks in hand. The other members were deep in conversation, their laughter echoing through the space. Y/n handed Karina her iced americano, his fingers brushing hers for just a moment too long. She smiled up at him, patting the empty seat beside her.

“Sit,” she said softly, her voice warm despite the exhaustion lining her features. Y/n obeyed without hesitation, sinking into the chair next to her. He could feel the heat of her body even before she leaned her head against his shoulder, her hair brushing against his neck. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a thrill through him, grounding him in the moment.

From across the room, Winter’s eyes burned into them. Her gaze was cold, almost predatory, as she sipped her drink slowly. But Y/n didn’t notice—or maybe he chose not to. Right now, all he cared about was the way Karina’s breath hitched slightly when their thighs brushed under the table.

The group around them chattered animatedly, their energy infectious. Wonyoung was recounting a story about a fan who had mistaken her for someone else at a recent event, her hands waving dramatically as she spoke. Yeji chimed in with teasing remarks, her sharp wit drawing laughter from the others. Even Chaewon, usually more reserved, was grinning broadly, her cheeks flushed from the excitement.

Y/n tried to focus on the conversation, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Karina. She looked so beautiful like this, he thought, stealing a glance at her. Her lashes fanned against her cheeks as she closed her eyes briefly, her lips curving into a small smile. It was moments like these that made him forget everything else—Winter’s scheming, the pressure of their comeback, the weight of their secret.

But then he caught Winter’s eye. She was still watching them, her expression unreadable. There was something unsettling about the way she held his gaze, as if she were daring him to look away first. Y/n frowned slightly, a flicker of unease creeping into his chest. What did she want from him? And why couldn’t she just let him enjoy this moment?

Karina seemed to sense his discomfort, lifting her head slightly to follow his line of sight. When she spotted Winter, her smile faltered for just a second before she turned back to Y/n. “Hey,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise of the café. “You okay?”

He nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Karina studied him for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly. But before she could say anything else, Yeji called out to her, pulling her attention away. Y/n exhaled quietly, relieved. He didn’t want to worry her—not when she already had so much on her plate.

As the conversation continued, Y/n found himself zoning out again, his mind wandering back to the storage closet. The memory of Winter’s hands on him, her lips against his skin, sent a shiver down his spine. He hated how conflicted he felt—how part of him still craved the thrill of their secret encounters, even as guilt gnawed at him.

“Oppa,” Wonyoung’s voice broke through his thoughts, startling him slightly. “Are you going to eat that?” She gestured to the untouched pastry on his plate, her eyes wide and pleading.

Y/n chuckled, pushing the plate toward her. “All yours.”

Wonyoung grinned, grabbing the pastry eagerly. “Thanks! You’re the best.”

The mood at the table lightened again, the tension momentarily forgotten. But Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see Winter standing there, but she was gone. His stomach twisted uneasily. Where had she gone? And what was she planning now?

Karina shifted beside him, her hand resting lightly on his knee under the table. The touch was casual, almost accidental, but it sent a jolt of electricity through him. He turned to her, meeting her gaze. There was something in her eyes—something soft and knowing—that made his heart ache.

Does she suspect? he wondered, panic rising in his chest. But Karina simply smiled, leaning closer until her lips brushed his ear. “Relax,” she murmured, her breath warm against his skin. “We’ll figure it out.”

Her words should have comforted him, but they only deepened his guilt. How could she be so trusting when he was keeping so much from her? He wanted to tell her everything—about Winter, about the photo, about the impossible position he was in—but he couldn’t. Not here. Not now.

Instead, he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together beneath the table. Karina squeezed gently, her touch reassuring. For a moment, it was enough to quiet the storm in his mind.

But then Winter reappeared, sliding into the seat directly across from him. She set her drink down with deliberate care, her eyes locking onto his. There was a challenge in her gaze—a silent reminder of the power she held over him. Y/n tensed, his grip tightening instinctively around Karina’s hand.

“So,” Winter began, her tone deceptively light, “anyone else excited for the comeback showcase? I heard the choreography is killer this time.”

The others nodded enthusiastically, launching into a discussion about the new routine. Y/n forced himself to join in, though his mind was elsewhere. Winter’s foot bumped against his under the table, lingering just long enough to make her intentions clear. He pulled away sharply, his pulse quickening.

Karina glanced between them, her brow furrowing slightly. “Everything okay?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Winter smiled sweetly, her expression innocent. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Y/n swallowed hard, his throat dry. He couldn’t do this—not here, not in front of everyone. But Winter seemed determined to push him, her every word and action designed to remind him of the hold she had over him.

As the conversation continued, Winter leaned forward slightly, her elbow brushing against Y/n’s as she reached for her drink. Her perfume—something floral and subtly intoxicating—wafted toward him, making his head spin. He could feel her thigh pressing against his under the table, her proximity sending a rush of heat through him.

Karina shifted again, her hand slipping from his as she reached for her coffee. Y/n froze, his breath catching in his throat. Winter smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You know,” she said casually, turning to address the group, “I think we should celebrate after the showcase. Maybe a night out? Just the seven of us.”

There were murmurs of agreement, the others clearly on board with the idea. But Y/n couldn’t focus on that. All he could think about was the way Winter’s foot was tracing small circles against his ankle, her touch light but insistent.

“Sounds fun,” Karina replied, though her tone was hesitant. She glanced at Y/n, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you think?”

Y/n opened his mouth to respond, but Winter beat him to it. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll love it,” she said with a wink. “Right, oppa?”

He stiffened, his jaw clenching. This was getting out of hand. He needed to put a stop to it—before things escalated further. But how?

Before he could formulate a response, Winter stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “Well, I’m heading back to the dorm. Anyone coming with me?”

The others exchanged glances, clearly torn. “We’ll catch up later,” Yeji said after a moment, waving her off. “Don’t wait up.”

Winter shrugged, slinging her bag over her shoulder. As she walked past Y/n, her hand grazed his shoulder, her nails digging in just enough to leave a mark. “See you soon,” she murmured, her tone dripping with implication.

Y/n’s stomach churned as he watched her go, a mix of dread and anticipation swirling inside him. He knew this wasn’t over—not by a long shot. And as much as he wanted to believe otherwise, he had a feeling things were about to get a lot more complicated.

To Be Continued

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

SHOULD HAVE KISSED YOU

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem! Summary: when made to participate in a school fundraiser, Eddie finds himself actually having fun. Warnings: none PART 2 ANYONE?

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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"Mister Munson, you have to be a part of this school!" Principal Higgins exclaimed to the boy sitting on the other side of the desk, protesting

"I've been apart of this shitty school for 6 years" Eddie hummed lowly

"what was that?" the older man raised and eyebrow, his hands on his hips as he looked down at the rebellious teen in front of him

"what do you want me to do?" he got in response

"Miss Kelley is holding a fundraiser- u-an auction, of sorts.. you'll be participating"

Eddie frowned "an auction? what you want me to go up and hold items for people to bid on?"

"you'll be the item"

Eddie scoffed "what's that supposed to even mean?"

he stared at the principal and almost laughed, was this a joke? he fails a few times and is now being punished

"it means you'll go up and girls will bid on you- a date with you"

oh Eddie definitely laughed at that, does he think he's funny? he must because that was the funniest thing Eddie's ever heard

"yeah, right" he snorted

"Mister Munson, do you want to graduate this year?" Higgins asked rhetorically.

this wasn't a joke, this was serious

"what's a stupid fundraiser going to do to help me graduate?!" Eddie raised his voice before looking away when the man scolded him

"well, lucky for you, Edward, this school will do just about anything to get rid of you-" The older man started before getting cut off by Eddie

"-How flattering" he hummed

"-so, we'll be granting you with extra credit if you do this, and if you get at least a C in Miss O'donnells, it will be enough for you to graduate" the man finished, crossing his arms

"what type of fundraiser activity is that anyway! I'm no help, I can assure you no body is bidding on me, Higs" Eddie rolled his eyes

"well, lucky for you, you don't need to be bidded on to participate, just showing up is enough"

"this is ridiculous" Eddie mumbled, slumping down in his chair

there was no way he was going to do this.

"oh please, Mister Munson, It's not the end of the world, just a simple date to the fun fair is the most you'll do" Mister Higgins shook his head, deciding this was the end of the discussion.

he shooed Eddie out of his office after telling a few simple details about the night he should be ready for

"and please, have some school spirit" he said before closing the door behind Eddie.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You sat in the school gym with your friends when Miss Kelley announces the boys up for auction

you had already seen the list a week prior and and had no interest, unlike your friend, Becky, who was more than excited to bet on a handsome mister Mike Lewenski.

your opinions on the fundraiser were mixed.

although a great way to make a few bucks, it was more of a way on telling which girl liked who. but even so, if they won the guy, it's a free date without the definite rejection most of them would face if they had just asked the guy out

so, while it saves a few rejections here and there, and could be seen as a trial run for a relationship, it's also a pit of thirsty women who want to dig their teeth in to a free date with a cute guy, especially if it's Gary McKlaren.

so to say you were the least interested was correct, but you were open to any changes if proven wrong.

The boys walked in the Gym single file and lined up behind Miss Kelley

you snorted at the sight of Eddie Munson 2nd last in line

you had browsed the list at least 3 times, you think you'd notice his name on the paper on the notice board. he must have been a last minute addition, which is pretty smart if you look at how many girls there are in school ready to bid.

but Eddie Munson, the freak? were they having a laugh?

you'd spoken to the guy a max of 5 times this year, he wasn't actually as bad as people made him out to be.

you weren't friends though; you wouldn't go that far. you'd be metaphorically killed if you were associated with him, so God forbid that ever happening.

Eddie huffed, looking out to the Gym seats.

he'd rather be doing anything else right now other than being at school, on a saturday afternoon, ready to be humiliated in front of what looks like 100 girls he's never spoken to (and doesn't plan to)

he frowned at the outfits the other boys had dressed up in, adorned in button up shirts and trousers, some even had a bowtie around their necks.

He mentally shook his head at the effort, because as they all dressed up fancy, like the organisers of this stupid even told them to, Eddie was still dressed in his normal attire, Black jeans and a dio shirt, his leather jacket hiding the cut off sleeves Eddie had fixed it up with. it's not like he was here to impress anyway

he would be here for 30 minutes max before driving back home alone.

"lets bring up our first boy of the evening, shall we. Toby Glover, everybody!" Miss Kelley claps.

She went on to describe the boy, hobbies, likes and interests before looking out to the crowed

"starting the bid at five dollars!" she smiled before a girl put her hand up, then a few others

Toby was baught at 20 dollars to Tracy Dekert.

then the next boy was up. Dylan Mantella.

it took a few seconds for a girl to put her hand up. but then another one did.

Dylan was bought for 10 dollars by Gracie Moore.

Jason Carver stood tall as he took a step closer, immediatley being bought by Chrissy for 5.

Then it was Mike Lewenski.

"He likes to play Football and the band Queen" Miss Kelley smiled

Becky's hand flew up as soon as the teacher announced 5 dollars, and glared at the girl on the other side of the bleachers when she outbidded her

"15!" Becky yelled out before the other girl said "17!"

they went back and fourth a few times before the other girl huffed and ran out of money

Mike was bought for 23 dollars by Becky, who cheered beside you

Then it was Gary McKlaren.

Miss Kelley didnt even get to describe his hobbies before a bidding war broke out. at least 10 girls fighting for him

yeah, he was popular. it made sense

Gary was bought for 50 dollars by Denise Weller.

Brian Gibley was bought for 5 dollars

Matthew Schneebly was bought for 25 dollars

and then Thomas Smith stood there for a few moments

that was when 2 girls put their hand up

you weren't sure if that was out of pity or they were just too shy to put their hand up, But Thomas looked like a whole bunch of weight lifted off of him when he was bought for 8 dollars

"now we have the...lovely Mister Edward Munson!" Miss Kelley announced, she looked nervous as she said his name, trying to find a praise but had to lie through her teeth

Eddie stood forward and clicked his tongue, looking out dully to the seats of girls and young women.

"E-Eddie likes um- Metal music? and uh- is a owner of a club" she spoke, she didn't know anything about Eddie, only that he was a satanist.

"5 dollars?" She announced with a tight smile, looking out to the crowd

you looked down at Eddie from your seat

his hands were in his pockets, he definitely didn't want to be here, but you could tell by the silence in the room he was...insecure?

you looked around the room, did no girl want him? did no girl see anything in him?

surely there was one girl to look past the scary demeanor of his figure and see something to like, but the only thing to hear was an awkward cough

you frowned, you felt bad, you really did.

Eddie looked down at his feet when Miss Kelley spoke into the mic "no bidders?" she asked as if she didn't know no body wasn't going to buy him

you closed your eyes and slowly lifted your hand.

it was just because you felt bad

"oh, we have a bidder! 5 dollars going once, twice, SOLD!" she banged her gravel on the wood. surprised.

Eddie munson was bought for 5 dollars. by you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Eddie was surprised when you put your hand up.

but Eddie was very Surprised to see you walk up to him afterwards, a smile on your face, a tight one, he knew it wasnt real

"hey" you greeted

Eddie looked at you confused, like you had grown two heads or that something was wrong with you, but he replied nonetheless

"hi" he said

you looked around the hall, seeing the floods of single girls walk out of the hall, glaring at you with the same look Eddie had a second ago.

"so um-" he licked his lips, sighing

"we don't have to go on the date.." you spoke in a rush, looking back at him

of course, Eddie thought to himself, of course you wouldn't want to go on a date with him

Eddie kicked himself for thinking you would for a split second.

"if you don't want to" he shook his head

this was awkward.

so awkward

"it's not that I.. don't want to. i do...but you- you probably have better things to do so..." you hummed, rolling on your ankles as you looked away from him

"I dont...and I don't want you spending money on me for nothing.." he mumbled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

you were probably the first girl to talk to him, Willingly, without buying drugs- the first girl to be nice to him to his face.

Eddie doesn't get that often, or at all for that matter, so you were...special. you could say. to him.

you weren't friends, you probably didn't want that. and he doesn't blame you, but it still hurts deep down, where he wont admit it

"it's fine.. it would be embarrassing to be the only person who didn't get bought so..."

yep, that was the only reason you bidded on him, you both thought to yourself

"yeah, I guess you're my saviour, then" he joked, though he didn't find any humour in it

Because you had told him you bought him out of pity, thats not funny or you being nice, thats just sad.

you agreed to the joke and looked around, the hall was empty now, all the girls gone, a few out to their date and all the rest on their way home, alone. some going to the fair with their friends.

"I'll uh- see you next week then?" you stepped back, going to walk away

"I thought you wanted to go?" he frowned

"i thought you didn't?" you raised an eyebrow

"eh.. i feel like i owe it to you, besides i think Principal Higgins and Miss Kelley will be there and if they don't see us- or at least me there, I won't get my credit cause i left you" he shrugged

that was it, it was just for the extra credit

"ok, sure" you nodded

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you walked side by side into the fun fair, you were a little nervous to say the least but it's not like you were gonna be here for a long time

Eddie had said he owed you and just wanted to be seen, so he'd probably just say a quick hello to the principal and spend five bucks on a quick game before calling it a day

that seemed fair, though.

he brought you over to the little games with various toys hung on the wall

"you wanna play a game? i'll try to win you a bear or somethin'" he looked down at you, pointing to the stall where you shoot at a few cans to win

you shrugged when you met his gaze, his big brown eyes full of the bright colours from the lights flashing from the games, the yellows and reds illuminating his face as he turned to you.

he looked pretty good

"sure" you replied shortly, looking away from him, letting him guide you to the line.

his hands were in his pockets as he looked around briefly. it made you wonder if he wanted to be here.

but on the inside, Eddie was almost shitting himself, cause here he was, in the line of a game with you next to him. this was a date, unadmittably his first date- if it even counted

and it's not just because it's a date, it's because it's with you, the only girl- bloody hell- woman that's ever been nice to him. to look at him like he's not a freak who sold his soul to the devil.

and God, did you have to look so pretty good?

he looked away when you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and stepped forward, it now being your turn

the guy spoke enthusiastically, explaining the rules as Eddie picked up the fake gun.

you took the time to scan over the plush toys, the big bat hanging upsidedown from the roof of the stall made you smile.

you smiled at Eddie as he lifted the gun to his face, squinting his eyes before shooting his first shot.

your eyebrows raised at his shot, impressed as you stood beside him

Eddie lowerd the gun, putting another pellet in the gun when he caught your gaze, looking over at you awkwardly

you blinked and smiled tightly at him before looking away "did- sorry did you want to shoot?" he frowned, now noticing that he should have let you play- or at least asked you

"oh no, it's ok I uh- I don't know how to shoot a gun" you breathed, letting out a dry chuckle

"it's pretty easy, here" one of his hands let go of the gun to each out for your own hand.

you let him take your hand and you tried to hide the blush rising quickly on your cheeks, looking away as he pulled you closer

he stood behind you, his broad chest against your back as he instructed you, you held the gun with his hands over yours, his arms wrapping around your frame to help you

"Just look through this little hole right here." he pointed to a little circle on the top of the gun, and you slowly raised the gun to your face, quinting to look through the hole.

"aim it" he told you

you lined it up with the can and he took one of your fingers to place it on the trigger.

the feeling of his hot breath fanning on your neck sent shivers down your shine as it contrasted with the cold brisk air, but you were so hot right now.

did he have to be so close to you?

he waited a second before he pressed on your finger, pressing down on the trigger, shooting the gun.

you closed your eyes as the loud bang and the feeling of him pressing up against you. Why did you like it?

"ahh good try, you just grazed it" Eddie spoke, mumbling something that you couldn't here before you opened your eyes

you could see a little dent in the can but it hadn't toppled over or fallen, signifying a miss.

you shoulders dropped and your frowned, looking over your shoulder to see Eddie smiling softly

"you'll get it this time" he reassured you, lowering the gun

you shook your head "i'll let you do it, you obviously know what you're doing" you flushed, smiling before stepping to the side to get out of his hold

it was then when Eddie realised that he was manhandling you and his eyes slightly widened. Had he made you uncomfortable? he really hoped he hadn't. he dropped his hands and let you slip away from in-between him and the gun and looked away sheepishly

you finally felt like you could breathe as you let out a deep sigh you didn't know you were holding

why was he making you feel this way?

Eddie put another pellet in the gun and shot it effortlessly before he put the last one in.

he didn't even flinch at the loud bang! noise it made when he shooted, or lost his footing, he was a natural.

you don't know what you expected though, he looked like the kind of guy who knew how to shoot a gun, he had that look to him

you didn't want to say it but- he did have the dangerous kind of look to him, but throught the few talks you've had with him, you would hightly doubt he would even shoo away a stray cat if it made home on his porch.

he put the final pellet in and aimed it before shooting it, you watched as it bounced off the bar and fall back to the ground.

you smiled and clapped when the guy announced a winner

"so..what will it be for the lovely lady?" he said looking at you as you stood forward.

the long haired metalhead looked over at you, nodding to the wall of toys.

you opened your mouth, and your eyes landed on the bat again, pointing up at it "the bat?"

the man smiled and got the bat down, passing it to Eddie as you backed away to get out of the line, which was small but growing impatient.

Eddie followed after you and handed the bat to you.

"here ya' go" he smiled.

the bat was even bigger than it looked, bigger than your head, at least.

you brought it up to your chest and thanked him before walking awkwardly away from the stall

"you're pretty good with a gun" you said break the silence between you and him, the blush on your face appearing again as you looked over at him

"yeah? well.. my dad taught me when I was younger so... had a good teacher I guess" he let out a breathy chuckle, kicking his feet.

of course. everyone knew the stories of AL Munson. so your weren't surprised when Eddie told you he made him go hunting with him before he got sent to prison

"made me shoot more than just tin cans.." He shighed

you hummed, walking towards the enterance before Eddie stopped you

"Where are ya' going?" he asked, a deep frown covering his features as he looked around

you grew confused too "I- I thought we were leaving?"

Eddie's face dropped at your words, looking down "oh. I mean if you want to. I just thought- I- I was kinda havin' fun. with you so..."

Eddie was having fun with you; it wasn't a lie. he didn't want to leave just yet, he wanted to play a few more games and if he got lucky, get to know you more. he doesn't know exactly why but he knew he liked being with you tonight

but it's probably because it's either this date with you, or a lonesome date between him, his couch and a cold can of beer.

you stepped back to him and smiled "I am too... I just thought- but yeah, let's go"

the sky turned dark as Eddie and you played a few more games and shared a fairyfloss stick.

you were having fun, laughing and getting embarrased when you got shoved closer to Eddie when a few kids ran past you to the rotating tea cups.

"sorry" you mumbled, stepping away from the metalhead as he tensed up at the contact.

"'s'okay" he smiled, noticing the way you hugged the bat plush in your arms

it was night time- and winter. So were you cold?

so he asked you "d'ya want ma'jacket?"

he frowned when you shook your head quickly "no it's ok, don't worry"

you felt your cheeks grow hot again as he began taking his leather jacket off, exposing his biceps arms that were adorned in dark tattoos.

the bats caught your eye.

you had seen them before, of course, but they made you frown

you looked down at your bat plush toy and hid your face in it sheepishly

when it caught your eye, you didn't know why you were drawn to it the way you were

it reminded you of something, but at the time you picked it, you just couldn't pinpoint it

but now, looking at his tattoo, you realised it was that and you grew embarrassed, did he think you wanted it because of him? well technically you did- no, no you just liked it...right?

"it's ok, really" you shook your head as he handed it out to you

"Please, I don't want you to be cold" he pleaded

he was such a gentleman, you don't get why people did see that, there was something clearly wrong with society to shut out this beautiful specimin of a man like him, he's just so kind and gentle. no- snap out it.

you squeezed the fluff of your plush as he draped it over your shoulders, smiling

"what about you?" you wondered

he only shrugged "m'fine" he looked down, putting his hands in his pockets "as long as you're warm"

you chuckled softly as you looked around

"ferris wheel?" he asked after a beat

you looked to the ferris wheel and nodded "sure"

you let him guide you and you smiled as you got the line

the fair music filled your ears as you slowly moved up the line.

the line was pretty long, trying to see the lights from above and the kids thinking they can see the whole town from the top. they were wrong but let kids be kids, you thought.

when you reached the front, you stepped up and Eddie quickly handed the guy a few coins, letting your guys on. you sat down, your bat plush sat on your lap as the guy pulled the bar down, letting it click before leaving you with Eddie in the closer proximity

your shoulder to shoulder with Eddie when it began to move. going backwards

you looked over at him and smiled sheepishly before looking away

he cleared his throat before pointing to the bat you were cuddling

"do you like bats?" he questioned

you looked down and shook your head

"no..not really. I just thought he was cute" you shrugged

he hummed "have you named him?"

you giggled "no, not yet" you looked at him, finding a teasing smile on his lips and you furrowed your eyebrows.

"I don't- It might be childish, but I don't have a lot of them..." you soft quietly, fiddling with your fingers as the ferris wheel went up again

"No.. I.. I don't think it's childish.. I have a uh- I have a bear on my bed.. Ozzy... so. it's cute" he nudged your shoulder softly

you smiled, still a little embarrassed but it made you feel better that he admitted that.

you think it was cute.. that he of all people slept with a teddy bear, you feel as though you've learnt a lot about him today

it's almost like this wa a real date.

it made you hope he thought it was a real date too.

"do you..like bats?" you pointed to his swarm of bats tattooed on his arm

he looked down and nodded

"yeah I guess.. it's more of that they are seen for good luck and uh..protection.. I guess" he mumbled the last bit

you raised your eyebrows "really?" you tilted your head

"yeah.. don't know where i found that but I though i needed it so..."

"cool" you nodded

his eyes met yours again and you saw his adams apple bob in his throat as he looked at you

your bench stopped at the top as fireworks began exploding in the sky, painting the sky in all different colours, but you didn't look away from Eddie, for some reason, your eyes stayed on him

the sprays of colour reflecting in his eyes as he looked back at you. you wonder if he could see the fireworks in your eyes too.

"thank you, for today.. I've had fun" you spoke, wanting to ease this tension in the air.

"Yeah.. I've had fun too... with you" he said

you didn't know what was happening. why butterflies filled your stomach and made you feel sickly.

Eddie was shitting himself again, the look in your eye made him so weak he was happy he was seated. you looked so pretty in this light. it almost made him want to thank Mister Higgins for making him do this. but after this, he woudn't have any reason to talk to him unless it's to tell him he'd be graduating.

he can't explain how he felt in this moment, but all he knew was that he really wanted to kiss you.

but you don't want to kiss the freak? no matter how many times you've told him you don't see him as one, that's what he is, what he always will be.

Besides. You did this out of pity, right?

Amd it's not like he likes you, right?

but all Eddie can think of as he forces himself to look away is that he wants you to like him

he wants to know why he feels this way, why the burst of colour in the sky wasn't the only fireworks in the air tonight.

he had taken you home after that, sadly saying goodbye as he drove you home, the only sound in his van being the metal music he set to low as he thought about how much of an idiot he is.

all while you had felt completley embarrassed, and if you're going to be honest, a little angry, though you're not sure why

you wanted him to kiss you, but why? you didn't like him like that, this was just because you felt bad

but you wanted him to like you.

I should have kissed him, you thought as you walked into your home.

I should have kissed her, Eddie thought to himself as he drove off.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

anyone want a part 2?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[urno1luv]

your sana works are soooo… so good 😵‍💫😵‍💫

could you do possessive sana jealous fucking r after finding out one of the other members may have a little crush on r? ><

here it is ♡ hope u like it!!

tags: possessive/obsessive behaviour, cunnilingus (😝), fingering, dubcon? thinly veiled threats towards tzuyu/nayeon (😔)

_________________________________________

The atmosphere in the dorm felt different tonight, tense and charged. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it until Sana walked into the kitchen where you were grabbing a late-night snack. Her expression was anything but her usual bubbly self—her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes sharper than you’d ever seen them.

“Hey,” you greeted, trying to keep the mood light. “Want some ramen?”

She ignored your offer, leaning against the counter with crossed arms. “I heard something interesting today,” she began, her tone measured but laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

You tilted your head. “Oh? What was it?”

Sana took a step closer, her presence almost suffocating in the small space. “Tzuyu has a crush on you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Tzuyu? She’s just being sweet. It’s nothing serious.”

Her jaw tightened at your response, and she placed her hands on either side of you, effectively trapping you between her and the counter. “It’s serious to me,” she said, her voice dropping to a low whisper.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden proximity. “Sana, it’s really not a big deal. I didn’t even know about it until now.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” she said, her eyes boring into yours. “You don’t see how people look at you. How they want you.” Her voice wavered slightly, but the possessiveness was unmistakable.

She leaned in closer, her lips just a breath away from yours. “But they don’t get to have you. You’re mine.”

Your heart raced at her words, the intensity in her eyes pinning you in place. “Sana…”

“I mean it,” she continued, her voice softening but no less firm. “I don’t care who it is. No one gets to take you away from me.”

You reached up to gently cup her face, your thumb brushing against her cheek. “You don’t have to worry about that. You’re the only one I want, Sana.”

Her eyes searched yours for any trace of doubt, and when she found none, she finally relaxed—only for a moment. Then, a sharper glint returned to her gaze, and her grip on your waist tightened, as she led you to her room.

“Good,” she murmured, her tone dipping into something darker, more dangerous. “Because I’m not just saying this, you know. I mean it. You’re mine. And I’ll make sure everyone—everyone—knows it.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of her words settle over you like a heavy blanket. “Sana, you don’t have to—”

“I do,” she interrupted, her voice firmer now. “I’ve seen the way they look at you. And now that I know someone in our group thinks they can take what’s mine?” She shook her head, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. “I don’t think so.”

Her hands slid up your sides, slow and deliberate, until they rested just under your jaw. She tilted your face up to meet her eyes, her thumbs brushing over your skin as if to stake her claim even further.

“I don’t care if it’s Tzuyu, Nayeon, or anyone else,” she said, her voice dropping to a near-growl. “If they think they can compete with me, they’ll find out just how far I’m willing to go to keep you.”

You shivered, unsure if it was from her words or the way her touch sent sparks through your skin. “Sana…”

Her lips finally met yours, urgent and unyielding, cutting off whatever protest you might have had. When she pulled back, her smirk was unmistakable, her confidence radiating off her in waves. She sat you down, rather forcefully, onto her bed.

“Let them try,” she said softly, her voice dripping with finality. “They’ll learn soon enough. You belong to me.”

She leaned forward, pushing you down, the bed creaking with the sudden move. In the dim light, you can only see her eyes glinting, her tongue licking her lips in a slow pace, letting you drink in all the details. Her kisses trailed down, lower and lower, her mouth pressing hot kisses against your soft skin. A whimper escaped you, and you could feel your egotistical girlfriend smirking into your belly, her slender fingers unbuckling the belt on your jeans.

Soon enough, her tongue pressed against your cunt, eliciting a small moan from you. She licked long stripes for a few seconds before plunging deep into you, fucking you with her tongue. You were a hot mess, a thin sheen of sweat covering you, face flushed red from her actions.

She got up and positioned you so you were sitting on her lap, her arm snakes around your waist, her fingers entering you, and you whined into her neck, ready feeling stuffed. Sana only kisses your head, not responding to your pleas to slow down, her wrist already dripping from your slick. "Sana, sto-... stop.. mm.." She narrowed her eyes, only for her to tighten her grip on you, her fingers curling as she fucks you. You stifle your sobbing and moaning, not wanting to stop her but at the same time feeling overwhelmed.

"My love, you're mine. Let me make sure you remember that."

[summertimesadnessirl]

You should try just no longer talking to them. Just tell them that using actual words and then bounce.

Self sabotage is not real. In relationships, you are sabotaging the other person. They don't know why you did this.

And "you're not good enough for meeeeeee!" Is actually a terrible excuse to piss someone off or make them miserable or mistreat them or cheat on them or whatever you are doing.

I don't think this is real though.

Every time someone accuses me of self sabotaging it's either a fancy way of saying

"I feel bad for you and that makes me feel bad and I have the ability to discern and manage emotions, including those absorbed through empathy of roughly a 6th grader and won't admit it so now I'm trying to tell you to shut up about your problems and not indicate distress in any way because you being sad near me is bumming me out but that would require me to have a higher level of maturity and self awareness than I have so I'm just going to accuse you of causing your own problems and hope you slink away in shame because I want to lash out at you even though you didn't do anything wrong and I don't know why."

Or

"Actually god is punishing you for negative vibes, because God is also a little bitch with the emotional range of a sixth grader, so... that's for you to fix. I am very mystical and used to people not questioning my philosophy as a result, and I don't realize people can tell I'm a dyed in the wool sadist who enjoys seeing people in emotional turmoil. My main interest in the mystical arts is keeping other people too intimidated with how esoteric I am or too intimidated by my resemblance to religious abuse of a similar nature in their childhood to call me out on pretending to offer advice so I can get off on making people feel like shit after talking to me for not understanding why my advice doesn't make them feel better when I supposedly say all the right things."

Or

"The same, but with the self help industry."

So I've never met anyone who actually self sabotages relationships because the other person is too good for them.

I have met people who don't understand why something isn't working but know it isn't working.

I have met people who claim they self sabotage relationships because they don't feel good enough. Most of those people were victims of abuse and gaslighting.

A few were lying to people about their own motives in order to justify some sadistic behavior they got called out on.

They knew it would make the other person go

Awwwww

And forgive them and let them go another round.

I self sabotage any relationship I have with people bc I know in the end they are better without me in their lives

[tojipie]

Crybaby gf x Toji explains my life so simply, and I’ve been reading them like once since day omg. I’m so obsessed with it. I was wondering if i could please request one where someone is passive aggressive towards her, maybe someone from the zenin clan?

content: crybaby reader, violence, blood, fighting, (happy ending :3 !) ˚ ✧ ───

what i've come to accept is that I simply cannot stop writing toji resorting to violence when reader's feelings get hurt

It had been years since Toji had attended a family event like this. a clan reunion dinner of sorts. You’d been cautious after receiving a sealed envelope with the Zenin crest last month, reluctantly passing it to Toji after he’d gotten home from work.

“How do they know where I fucking live… freaks,” he mutters, eyes scanning the parchment before blowing wide after reading what the invite was for.

“Wait, Naoya's engaged?” he laughs, folding the letter up and handing it back to you. 

Naoya. You'd heard that name once or twice from him. Never anything good.

“What's so funny?” you ask.

“Nothing," He laughs. "Just didn’t think it’d be to a woman.”

˚ ✧ ──────────

Toji pulls your seat out for you, letting you scooch in until your stomach presses up against the table. The raven-haired man settles in the seat next to you with a sigh, drumming on the table absentmindedly as the rest of his estranged family files in.

You feel ten, maybe fifteen pairs of emerald eyes bore into you in the few moments it takes for everyone to settle. Servants in black and white uniforms weave in and out of the room, their heads low as they hand out drinks.

The family had barely tolerated Toji for years. The family reject bringing an outsider as his plus one clearly wasn't helping. You brace yourself for the cacophony of whispers from the other women at the table, slinking into your seat to try and appear smaller. 

Except, the insults never come. A certain lithe blond had already captured the room’s attention, graciously greeting each guest with a confident smile. 

“You’ve grown so much Naoya.” An older woman gushes, patting his cheek. He accepts the affection warmly. 

He seems nice enough, you think to yourself. Watching as his smile morphs into a look of disgust as soon as she sits back down. 

Right, never cast judgment too quickly.

Naoya acts fast, snatching a perfectly folded handkerchief from his suit’s front pocket, to scrub the spot she’d touched. He tosses the fabric to a passing waitress, stealing a glass of wine off of her serving platter before downing the entire thing in two gulps.

So this was the infamous blond. Toji’s bratty cousin and subsequent family nemesis. Interesting. 

"So where's his fiance?" You whisper to Toji, trying to make yourself small at his side.

"Dunno," he snorts, "They probably won't meet each other til' their wedding day." He explains. Weird.

Newly inspired, you decide to take a sip from your own glass, wincing at the harsh aftertaste that blooms on your tongue. 

“Too strong?” Toji asks softly. You nod sheepishly, thanking him as he switches your glass for his cup of water.

“Definitely the real stuff.” You mutter, trying not to gag. 

“They’ve been aging this stuff since he was born,” Toji explains. “Family tradition, everyone gets a barrel that the family cracks open at one point or another.”

“So when are we opening your barrel?” 

Toji pauses, a faint playful smile on his lips.

“Shit, you think the family dud gets a barrel?” He doesn’t look hurt at the admission, but the creases around his eyes tell a different story.

An older man saunters up to the two of you, clapping Toji on the back before you can say anything.

“How long has it been my boy?” He exclaims, pulling the younger man into a hug and stepping back to give him a once-over.

Maybe an uncle, you think. They share the same hearty laugh.

Toji chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Couple years at least.”

“This your lady?” The older man asks, shooting you a wink. 

Strange, you realize this is the first anyone in the room besides Toji had acknowledged you tonight. 

“You know it,” Toji remarks fondly, laughing as the Uncle makes a quip you can’t quite hear before returning to his seat.

Nayoa kisses his teeth loudly, locking eyes with you from across the table. His words are loud when he cuts in, the room going silent as he speaks.

“So were you trying to water down your bloodline when you chose her?” A few partygoers laugh. 

Your eyes frantically scan the room, confirming your worst fear. Almost everyone was laughing at the two of you. Your vision blurs as tears gather in the corner of your eyes.

Naoya smiles coyly, leaning forward as he continues. “Or do you like the thought of children that are as useless as you ar–”

“You shut the fuck up when I’m talking.” Toji seethes, pointing the prongs of his fork in the direction of the blond. You feel every eye in the room bore into the both of you, jagged emeralds picking your every atom apart. Toji doesn’t seem to care, chest heaving as he waits for a response.

Naoya's smile fades. The younger man looks Toji up and down before taking a long sip from his cup of wine.

“I guess we have our answer.” He teases, reveling in the tauntful laughs that his joke earns.

Your stomach churns painfully, eyes zoning in on the glass of wine Toji had stolen from you earlier. Would downing the whole thing somehow get you drunk enough to forget this entire ordeal? If there was a time to leave, it would be now.

“Baby,” you mutter, tugging on the waist of Toji’s dress pants. “Let’s just go.”

“Fuck that,” your boyfriend spits, glaring down his shit-faced little cousin. You glue your eyes to the floor.

“Say it again.” He commands, his tone incredulous.

“What? That whatever spawn you two crank out will be duds?” Naoya asks innocently. “You can’t possibly be mad at me for pointing out the obvious?”

You feel Toji’s warmth leave your side as your boyfriend launches forward, knocking plates out of the way as he barrels over the table and tackles his cousin.

The table erupts in hysterics, the older men in the room urge the two of them to break it up while the women stare into their plates, horrified. You swear you hear a baby crying.

“Let me go you fucking ape!” you hear the blond grunt, driving his knee into Toji’s ribcage repeatedly as your boyfriend attempts to hold him down by the shoulders. Crimson rivets of blood leak down from Naoya's nose, accentuating the cracks in his lips.

You scurry back from the table, hand over your mouth as you take in the debacle. That churning feeling in your stomach has been replaced by something… much different. 

Something thick and viscous in the depths of your soul. Something saccharine sweet that makes your head swim.

Toji looked, for lack of a better word, fucking hot like this.

His hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead, blood splattered across his cheek, face contorted in a manic smile so wide that the corner of his lips threatened to split. And he was doing it in defense of you. His sweet girl.

Your boyfriend manages to pin Naoya’s arm behind his back, pressing his weight forward and bending it at an angle that elicits a yelp from the younger man. Toji grabs him by the scruff of his neck, angling his head so Naoya is forced to look you in the eyes.

“Apologize.” He commands his voice a low, menacing rasp that sends a chill down your spine. The others in the room feel less important as the gravity of the situation washes over you.

Naoya laughs like it's the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“For what?” he spits, glaring at you through silky black-tipped bangs.

You flinch as the blond’s head is slammed down onto the tablecloth, his cheek squished into the plain linen by a hand large enough to dwarf his entire skull.

“I said, apologize,” Toji states plainly, his tone harsh and unwavering.

Naoya pants, eyes darting around the room as if searching for someone—anyone—brave enough to intervene. No one moves.

The younger man seems to mull it over, giving in as his arm twists to its limit.

“I’'m-- shit! I'm sorry,” He grunts, gasping in relief as your boyfriend releases him from his grip.

The room remains silent. A few relatives exchange horrified glances. The tension is suffocating, yet you can’t help but feel a flicker of triumph.

Toji saunters back into his seat like nothing happened, glancing up through his hair to address the room.

“Eat,” It isn't a suggestion. 

The scraping of utensils against plates resumes hesitantly, the family too shaken to address the elephant in the room.

You sit quietly, your heart still racing. Toji’s hand finds your thigh under the table, his touch firm and grounding. 

The rest of the meal passes in awkward silence, punctuated only by the occasional cough or clink of silverware. Naoya sits at the far end of the table, mercilessly scrubbing at the blood that stains the front of his pristine white dress shirt.

When the meal is over, Toji doesn’t wait for the formalities to begin. He stands abruptly, helping you to your feet. “Get up,” he commands, a tender hand finding its home on the small of your back.

The two of you stride out of the room, the weight of a dozen judging stares on your back. The moment you’re outside, Toji lets out a soft chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

“Did you see his face?” he says, grinning like a man who’s just won the lottery. Toji holds his arm behind his back just like he had done to his cousin, forcing an exaggeratedly pained look.

You can’t help it—you laugh, a real, unrestrained laugh that shakes the tension from your body. 

“You’re insane,” you manage between giggles.

"Maybe,” he smirks, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walk toward the car. 

[onehundredelevven]

What about a jealous Mr.Scarletella , Mr.crawling or Mr.Gap or anyone who you like head canons I think it would be very interesting NDIDNDJSNJSJS I live for any Homicipher content ahhhh we need more of it!!

I just need more brain rot content please （ΦωΦ）

Thank you!

Also hope your doing well sorry i requested another one but forgot to add thank you (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

Her u go bestie~(this is literally from last year omg)

Jealousy?

contains: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletta, Mr. Silvair, and Mr. Chopped

☆☆☆

Mr. Crawling

You were sitting on the floor, chatting with Mr. Silvair about something about medical stuff, but Mr. Crawling wasn’t having it. He kept glancing over at the two of you, his body twitching every time Silvair's attention turned toward you.

His head tilted in confusion, but his voice came out low and grumbling. “Me not like... you talk too much. You... talk with me?”

You blinked, surprised by his sudden pout. “What’s wrong, Crawling? You’re always by my side.”

“Me... don’t like see you with others,” he grumbled, inching closer and leaning against you. His hands brushed against your arm, trying to pull your attention back to him.

“You're still my number one, Crawling,” you said gently, rubbing his head.

He didn’t say much after that, but his clinginess spoke volumes. He stayed close, his body pressed against yours, as if reminding you that he didn’t want to share you with anyone else.

---

Mr. Scarletella

Mr. Scarletella stood in the shadows, watching as you chatted with another figure in the room. His gaze was sharp, narrowed, and full of something dangerous.

“You like... others more?” he asked, stepping forward with a dangerous edge to his voice.

You turned to face him, blinking in surprise. “What do you mean? I’m just talking to—”

His intense gaze locked onto the person you were speaking to. “Not like,” he murmured, his fingers twitching at his side. “You belong to me. Not them.”

The words weren’t angry, but there was a possessiveness behind them that sent a chill down your spine.

“You... feel jealous?” you asked, teasing lightly, though his reaction caught you off guard.

“Not jealous,” he corrected quickly, though there was a slight edge to his voice. “Just... mine.”

You couldn’t help but smile. "Well, I’m yours then."

He nodded once, satisfied, stepping closer and pulling you into his personal space. “Good.”

---

Mr. Silvair

Mr. Silvair was used to keeping his emotions under control. But as he watched you laughing with Mr. Chopped, a rare flicker of irritation crossed his usually calm expression.

He cleared his throat loudly, but neither of you seemed to notice.

"Silvair?" you called, tilting your head in confusion as he walked over.

His demeanor was calm, but his voice remained composed. "You... laugh with others," he said, though it came out more as a statement than a question.

“Is there a problem?” you teased, grinning at him.

He didn’t immediately answer, but you noticed his posture was a little stiffer than usual. He crossed his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Mr. Chopped.

"...Nothing," he muttered, before his demeanor softened.

You couldn’t help but laugh, but his possessive nature was unmistakable. It was the first time you’d seen him act so... human.

---

Mr. Chopped

You were having a casual chat with Mr. Crawling when Mr. Chopped suddenly appeared on the table, his head swiveling back and forth between you two.

“What’s going on here? Me not like!” He huffed, his voice bright but with a noticeable pout.

“M-Mr. Chopped? What’s wrong?” you asked, trying not to laugh at how he was practically vibrating with energy.

“Me... feel left out! You talk too much with him!” he complained, puffing his cheeks.

You chuckled and scooped him up, holding him close. “Aw, you’re not left out. You’re always with me.”

“But... but...” His head twirled as he stared at Machete, who just chuckled quietly at the scene. “I want attention too! Me need... hair time!”

You laughed, and sure enough, Mr. Chopped let you comb his hair with a little more gusto than usual, his earlier jealousy forgotten in favor of your full attention.

[contamination-zone]

nother fic yayyy

contains: platonic fresh and nightmare. Cuddling. Joint pain [for fresh :<] ~1,000 words

He was back, smarmy grin on his face and eyewateringly bright outfit everywhere else. It contrasted heavily with the deep well of suffering emanating from “his” SOUL.

An oxymoron; the only way Nightmare could describe it. 

Still, negativity was negativity, no matter how… colorful the package was. 

“Exited to see lil old me bro?”

“Hardly.”

It laughed, the noises all bright neons in the air. Enthusiasm mixing with cruelty. It wasn’t as cheery as usual.

“Lierrrr!” 

Within barely a second it was closer than he’d usually let anyone, crowding into his space and almost looming. Terribly reminded of a  cat greeting its owner, Nightmare didn’t think to refute  it.

It seemed one of them was thinking of his answer though, Fresh letting out a victorious crow when he didn’t immediately snarl an insult.

“You did, didn’t ya? We love ta’ see bonds between bros, bro!” 

As if it wasn’t close enough, it pressed against his side. He let it, the negativity pouring out more than worth it. 

“I would hesitate to call what we have a ‘bond.’” He finally answered it, disinterest weaved carefully through his voice. 

“Whatever you say,” Fresh snickered, face leaning down to rest on his shoulder. It seemed in a particularly clingy mood today, though that seemed like everyday, lately.

Hyper aware of its movements, Nightmare couldn’t help but notice something was a bit off. A certain stiffness the parasite didn’t normally have, teeth a hint too straight and claws blunt.

It pressed further into him, barley not sinking into his negativity, almost nervous… 

“Bad day?”

It startled, clearly displeased, and ignored his question entirely. Expected, exposing weakness to Nightmare wasn’t usually in anybody’s best interest. “Nah, my day’s been totes tubular. We don’t needa talk about me anyway. You got any cool plans, bro?”

“Work. In fact, I’d prefer to be alone for it.” He wasn’t going to let it play hard to get.

“…”

“If you require my presence,” he hummed in a way he knew made him sound like an asshole, “you can always inform me.”

He started walking, pace leisurely as he made his way to his office. It fell instep right behind him, silent, considering.

“C’mon, you always like a bro to help ya’ think things through, don’cba boss?”

“I’m not so incompetent as to require that.”

It huffed, clearly displeased.

He made it to his office with the parasite on his heels, and made quick work of gathering some of the most pressing paperwork. It continued prattling off behind him.

“Don’t harsh the paperwork vibe by kicking me out, octo-bro. Sure hanging out would help with that pro-duct-tality”

It grumbled and huffed, trying to annoy a reaction out of him. Cute.

“If it’s only entertainment you want, you can always bother other inhabitants of this castle, parasite.”

That actually got a growl out of it.

With a quick motion he also grabbed few pens and a stamp before he turned on his heel and walked right back out of his office.

Fresh didn’t seem to notice how far off his normal schedule he was acting, pressing close once more. It was so tempting to push it off.

“Are you saying you can’t, broski? The top dog of negativity, unable to amuse a simple lil’ dude?”

“You’re nearly 7 feet tall.”

“Yeah man! Just a little guy!” It grinned.

He let out an amused huff despite himself, finally arriving at their destination.

He fished the key to his room out of his pocket and made quick work of making his way in, one of his tentacles aground Fresh’s wrist pulling it after him.

The fact that this was when it finally noticed he wasn’t doing his normal paperwork routine was a testament to how out of it it must have been. It let out a little click at the back of its throat, confused.

“What’s with this?” A moment later.

Nightmare pulled it further into his room, “didn’t you say you’d prefer to ‘hang out’?”

A slight tug, more a test to see if he’d let go than an earnest attempt to shake his grip. He didn’t let go.

“Preev hang-outs weren’t like this, bro-tato.”

He ignored its words. Sticking out a tentacle easily tripped it, making it land on his plush bed with a thump.

He followed at his own pace, getting all his equipment set up  on his nightstand as Fresh rolled into its side to look at him. It’s voice was squeaky, “Again! What is the deal bro?! I am not the type of guy you bring to your crib. I don’t even do this typa’ thing!”

He rolled his eyes as he made himself comfortable. “You misunderstand me if you think  I’m trying to bed you. You merely seem under the weather.”

It grumbled, its brows furrowing and teeth baring. Before it could start spouting some bullshit about being in ‘tip-top shape,’ he reached over and settled its head on his lap, hands moving to massage at its neck vertebrae. 

It’s mouth let out a squeaky breath of air instead of a retort, and he chuckled. His tentacles reached down to wrap around its joints, and the way it went limp at his cold ministrations let him know he’d been right: joint pain.

It whines, “This is so un-radical bro…”

“Is it?” He grabbed his clipboard and started doing paperwork, letting his tentacles slowly wrap further around the other skeleton. The little shudders it let out only made him tighten his grip.

A little rumbly purr started up, and which seemed to disquiet Fresh even further. 

“Un-radical…” it repeated.

“Of course,” he looked down at it, face a bit flushed and purring like a motor, “‘Un-radical.”

“It was just a bad switch, it’ll pass.” It grumbled, “You really don’t need to do all… this stuff for it.” 

Information; he tried not to look like he was paying more attention. He let out an acknowledging noise.

“You listening? Just said you didn’t need to do this.”

“And if I want to?” Was out before he could think.

It stiffened the same time as him. This wasn’t what their relationship was supposed to be like.

They were both using the other: Fresh for protection and Nightmare for a free meal. It was comforting, expected. I they could always count on the other acting in their own self interest.

“Because… more contact more negativity, yeah?”

“Yes.” No.

It relaxed, taking that instead of the possibility of him caring, “whatever. I guess I’ll stay for your sa-“

He retracted most of his tentacles, making it whine. 

“Fine fine! I’ll stay for my sake.”

“Good boy.” He continued his ministrations, feeling it relax back into him a moment later. Pretenses dropped, it didn’t hesitate to push as far into his space as it could get. A bit too close for him to do his paper-work with maximum productivity but he couldn’t say he minded too much.

[monokoitari]

Months after Binghe falls into the Endless Abyss, the entire Cang Qiong Sect begins to theorize that Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua definitely have something.

Well, mainly because:

a) The Omega Shen Qingqiu, who had been in deep and devastating mourning that was half a mourning widow and half a mother who lost a puppy, had ceased to reek of despair and regret.

b) Anyone who entered the bamboo house, be the disciples or other Peak Lords to take care of Shen Qingqiu, were going to smell the scent of the silly Alpha Shang Qinghua. A marking that seemed almost accidental on his furniture, robes, and books. As if the alpha had just relaxed enough, as if the bamboo house was his home too. (Few people entered Shang Qinghua's house, but the few who did also felt the same comfortable scent from Shen Qingqiu.)

c) Yes, it was clear that Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua spent too much time together. Too long which meant that, many times, some disciples of Qing Jing could see their Shang-shishu sneaking out of the bamboo house on the walk of shame, with the same clothes he had come in the day before, very wrinkled, probably with more dark circles, as if he hadn't slept at all.

d) ... and of course, all the courtship that the other Cang Qiong alphas knew perfectly well. Because Shang Qinghua, even small and annoying for an Alpha, proved to be a good provider (he was always bringing Shen Qingqiu snacks, making sure he ate, making him taste his own roasted seeds reaching to feed him with his own hand while the Peak Lord of Qing Jing read concentratedly), proving that despite his size and stature he was a strong Alpha (Qing Jing's disciples, especially, had seen their Shang-shishu carry their Shizun on his shoulder many times, even when their Shizun was kicking in a very... childish way), proving that he was ready enough to support and take care of a family (how many times had the disciples been spoiled by their Shang-shishu with sweets and pats when he came to visit Qing Jing?), and at the same time caring about the interests and desires of the Omega he was courting (because everyone knew that Shang Qinghua had never been a big fan of monsters, beasts and flora. And yet, he was always ordering new books which he then gifted to his Shen Qingqiu).

Yeah, all the peak leaders think, completely convinced of what they are seeing. Shang Qinghua is courting Shen Qingqiu. And the way Shen Qingqiu doesn't leave his side, he is always scented with Shang Qinghua's Alpha scent, and he is definitely hitting the Alpha just to find excuses to touch him, it seems Shen Qingqiu is accepting, and very gladly, the courtship.

No one understands how that happened, really, but they are pleased with the progress. It was about time for a wedding that would unite the Peak Lords a little more! They just hope to hear about it soon.

...

Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu have no idea why the other Peak Lords, and even their own disciples!!! are looking at them in such a chilling manner. They, completely oblivious, are just looking for a way to get out alive after Binghe returns from the abyss for their heads. Yes, sometimes they spend the whole night debating ideas... and talking about anime and manga and theorizing about their endings that they will never get to see, but hey!! They are two transmigrating bros existing in that world, they can afford to be themselves like that!!

And, maybe Shen Qingqiu finds it a little relaxing when Shang Qinghua marks his wrists with his scent before leaving. It calms those fucking omega instincts of crying and writhing for his poor puppy in the Endless Abyss, alone, hungry and suffering. And, well, Shang Qinghua likes to leave his scent on his friend's stuff because, what the fuck, his instincts are screaming at him that he can't let the omega go around crying over his lost Bingpup (and he feels guilty for all of the Abyss thing).

They're just two bros existing and trying to survive. Nothing weird. Why are the other Peak Lords talking about a wedding? Who's getting married?

[youhavethesun]

saw a tiktok on pinterest (because I don’t have tiktok lol) about how annoyed someone was that Rory had given up all her hopes and dreams ‘because of one comment from a man’. and I know this was meant as a joke but honestly I wonder if this is how a lot of people view this plot line. I’ve seen so many people talking about Rory’s ‘downfall’ and how she was so unable to handle criticism/that she fell apart from a single comment etc.. and I just honestly can’t see how people continue to view it this way.

I think there are honestly a lot of factors that influenced Rory’s breakdown after Mitchum’s comment, but first of all I quickly want to say that (I know this is controversial but I genuinely do not care) I don’t think her leaving Yale was a bad thing!!! It was treated as this ultimate sin, (maybe this is for another post idk) but honestly I think Rory made the right decision. I don’t think the right decision was obviously her giving in to the lifestyle Emily wanted for her/joining the dar and so on, but actually taking a break from formal education I think could have been positive, all through season 4 we see how much of a toll college is taking on Rory, and I think taking a year out if she knew she was going back and using that year to rest and learn more about herself could have been really beneficial.

anyway sorry for the tangent, okay so the first thing is that a lot of people seem to view Rory’s conversation with Mitchum as a single interaction which caused her ‘downfall’, and everything was a domino effect from then on, instead of looking at it as the straw that broke the camels back. like I said, Rory was not in a good place at Yale even during s4, she had a terrible breakdown when she was slipping in her grades, and the impact of having to drop a single class was huge for her, she was desperately anxious about disappointing especially her grandfather’s expectations, but she was also at risk of at least somewhat disappointing all her immediate family. In season 2 (in my beloved car scene in teach me tonight) we can see hints of it too! Jess is just chatting casually when he says he didn’t expect her to dream about becoming an overseas correspondent, but this immediately rattles Rory, with direct dialogue being:

“well, it's not a little too rough for me. I hope it's not a little too rough for me, I've been talking about this forever. I mean, I don't even know what I would do if –-“

and this is in response to a comment from a friend.

the prospect of failing at her goal but also very importantly what Rory has ‘talked about forever’ is incredibly frightening. I think it’s so interesting that she doesn’t say ‘I’ve wanted this forever’, but rather implies that the expectations of those who have watched her grow up, who have heard her talk about this for so long, would be shattered because she has shared this with them. so much of Rory as a character is someone who is afraid to disappoint in every way possible, I think that is such a core element of her personality, and as the child prodigy who was (to some extent) raised to achieve what lorelai couldn’t, the pressure she is under not to disappoint is massive.

anyway, back to Mitchum. I think honestly to some degree it could have been anyone to criticise Rory’s capability and she would be considerably affected, seen not just when talking to Jess but even in season 1 after getting lower grades when she transferred to Chilton - Rory immediately questions whether she is even good enough to be at private school, whether she could just be disappointing those around her if she stays.

The fact that it’s Mitchum Huntzberger who says she ‘doesn’t have it’ in my opinion is kind of just the icing on the cake. Whether or not Rory had even taken the internship I think the pressure of it all would have led to a larger breakdown at some point or other, this was really just the final straw for what Rory could take at the time. Imagine one of the most successful people in the world in your chosen field telling you that everything you’ve worked for isn’t enough, that in three short words every expectation you’ve set for yourself (and more importantly every expectation everyone around you has held you accountable to) has been torn apart. Imagine believing you had let down everyone who had sacrificed something for you, who had put their faith in you, and tell me you could just bounce back from that.

Anyway the tiktok was not that serious but my thoughts just kind of spun out from there so if you read all of this I love you <3 and also I love you later season Rory you’re flawed and you’re lovely<33

[moomuzan]

THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME ━━━━

whorezai :: cheater!tachihara

( ༊*·˚ ) 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙊𝙉𝙂𝙎 i don’t love you by my chemical romance :: bulls in the bronx by pierce the veil :: zombie by day6 :: loml by taylor swift

━━ 𝙃𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝘼 𝘾𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙍 „with them, he could be anyone, everyone, except the man you thought you loved.“ wc: 3.3k

━━ 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 none, regular angst, no comfort, cheating, dazai being dazai i guess, this one i headcanon so much, he‘d be such a bad partner imo

dedicated to: @saoirseyun

join my taglist @amvpk01 @sophistication-as @ezzyrainrunaway @howls-fallen--stars @plutouran @marsaiki @lovingyouat4am @xumyuii @cultluvin @cryptidfuckerofficial @dazaistn @dietcolavape @grayshadeofpurple @naviiq @vasarii @poekaryote

Amid this haven of darkness—her bedroom, where thick curtains devoured the neon glow of Yokohama’s restless streets—dim streaks of light sliced through the gloom, revealing the chaos: tangled sheets, discarded clothing, and the faint scent of perfume lingering in the stale air. Dazai sat on the edge of the bed, shirt unbuttoned and tie hanging limp around his neck. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands limp at his sides, as though the weight of his thoughts had momentarily anchored him. Behind him, she slept, her body curled in soft, unconscious surrender, her breathing steady and shallow.

Closing his eyes he inhaled deeply, but it did nothing to quiet the storm within him. The warmth of her body still clung to his skin like a ghost—a warmth that felt alien, temporary, meaningless. He didn’t even remember her name. It had been spoken earlier, murmured between coy laughter and the clink of glasses, but it had slipped from his mind as easily as it had entered.

Earlier that evening, he'd found her in one of those dimly lit bars he gravitated to when the emptiness inside him grew too loud. He hadn’t planned to go out, but as he sat alone in the apartment, watching the minutes tick by in deafening silence, the need to escape had become unbearable. You were there, of course, tucked away in the bedroom, your form faintly visible behind the cracked door. He’d caught glimpses of you as you moved—folding laundry, brushing your hair, the mundane rituals of domestic life that only amplified his sense of alienation.

Although he knew he could have stayed, could have walked into the room, sat beside you, and pretended to be the man you still foolishly believed he could be, he couldn’t bear the weight of your hope, couldn’t stomach the way you looked at him with those tired but unwavering eyes, as if you saw something in him worth saving. So, naturally, he’d left.

Dark, discreet, filled with people who weren’t interested in asking questions—the bar was the kind of place he liked. He’d taken a seat at the counter, nursing a drink he didn’t particularly care for, and surveyed the room with his usual detached curiosity. That’s when he saw her. She wasn’t remarkable, not in any way that mattered, but she had smiled at him, her lipstick-painted lips curling just so, and that had been enough. Still, the woman was easy. Not just in the way she leaned in close, her hand brushing his arm as she laughed at something he said, but in the way she didn’t ask for anything. Not his name, not his story, not even the illusion of sincerity. She wanted him for the same reason he sought her out: to fill a void, if only for a moment.

It wasn’t long before they left the bar together, her arm looped through his as though they were lovers rather than strangers. He didn’t remember what they talked about on the way to her apartment—if they talked at all. It didn’t matter. The act was always the same. The details blurred together into a monotonous rhythm of fleeting touches and shallow breaths.

And yet, there had been a moment, brief and fleeting, when he’d sought you in her. It wasn’t conscious, not at first. It was instinctual, an ache buried deep within him that he rarely acknowledged. The way her fingers brushed against his jaw, the way she murmured his name—he let himself pretend, for the briefest of seconds, that it was you. But the illusion shattered almost as soon as it formed, leaving behind a bitter taste in his mouth.

You weren’t here. You would never be here, in a room like this, in a moment like this. And maybe that was why he came to places like this, why he sought out women who were nothing like you. With them, he could be anyone—everyone—except the man you thought you loved.

But Osamu Dazai, the man he was, didn’t stay in that moment of longing for long. He didn’t allow himself to. Instead, he leaned into the guilt, welcomed it like an old friend. The guilt was his anchor, the only thing that tethered him to a world that often felt so distant, so unreal. It was the one thing he could still feel, and though he hated it, he also needed it. Without it, he feared he might vanish entirely.

While the other woman had been eager, pliant, her lips tracing the curve of his neck as her hands roamed over his skin, he’d let her take him apart, piece by piece, but even as her nails raked against his back, he felt nothing. It was mechanical, a performance they both participated in but neither truly believed in. Every kiss, every whispered word, every practiced movement—it was all an imitation of something real, a hollow mimicry of passion.

Once it was over, once it was gone, silence settled where chaos had drawn, and she’d fallen asleep almost immediately, her breathing soft and even, her body warm against his. Yet the man couldn’t sleep. He never could, not in places like this, not after nights like this. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor as though the answers to his endless questions might be hidden there.

He ran a hand down his face, pausing at his jaw, where her lips had been not long ago. The sensation lingered, faint but persistent, and it filled him with a strange, hollow ache. He hated it—the way her touch stayed with him, the way it seemed to seep into his skin like a stain he couldn’t wash away. But he hated himself more, hated the choices that had led him here, hated the emptiness that drove him to keep making them.

Finally, he stood, moving with the quiet precision of a man who had learned to leave without waking anyone. He dressed slowly, methodically, his movements as calculated as everything else he did. His tie hung loose around his neck, his shirt still wrinkled, but he didn’t bother fixing either. What was the point?

The walk back to your shared apartment was agonizingly slow. The streets of Yokohama were quiet at this hour, the city caught in the fragile stillness that came just before dawn.

He lit a cigarette as he walked, letting the sharp burn of the smoke fill his lungs and distract him from the faint perfume that clung to his clothes. He thought of you as he smoked, not with longing or love, but with the same detached fascination he always felt when it came to you. You were his partner, the person he came home to, but even that word-partner-felt foreign in his mouth. What were you to him, really? An anchor? A habit? Or just another part of his endless game, something to keep him entertained in between the nights he lost himself to strangers?

By the time he reached the door, the sun was beginning to creep over the horizon, casting pale light over the city. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob, before pushing it open. The apartment was quiet, the air heavy with the silence that had become normal between you. You were there, as he knew you would be, sitting on the couch with a blanket draped over your shoulders. The soft light of the lamp illuminated your face, making the dark circles under your eyes more prominent. You didn't look at him, your gaze fixed on the cup of tea in your hands, but he could feel the weight of your awareness. You always knew when he came home.

While closing the door behind him with a deliberate softness, the click of the latch echoed loud in the oppressive quiet. For a moment, he just stood there, watching you. You were beautiful in a way that made his chest ache-not because he loved you, but because he knew he could never love you the way you deserved. He wasn't built for that kind of devotion. His life was a maze of manipulation and power plays, his heart a wasteland he had long since abandoned.

"You're up late," he said finally, his voice casual, almost teasing, as if he had just returned from a harmless night out with friends. The lie was so practiced it came effortlessly, slipping from his tongue like a well-worn melody.

You didn't look up. "So are you," you replied simply, your tone devoid of accusation, but also of warmth.

He moved into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and taking his time to drink it. The tension between you hung in the air, thick and suffocating, but Dazai thrived in tension. It was his playground, his stage, and he played his part flawlessly. When he finally turned to face you, his smirk was firmly in place, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mix of arrogance and amusement.

"You're not going to ask where l've been?" he said, the question light and mocking, designed to provoke.

Setting your cup down on the coffee table, your movements were slow and deliberate, before finally meeting his gaze. Your eyes were tired, but not with the kind of exhaustion that sleep could cure. It was the exhaustion of someone who had been fighting a losing battle for far too long.

"What's the point?" you said, your voice steady but tinged with quiet resignation. "You'll just lie to me."

For a fleeting second, so brief you thought you had imagined it, something flickered in his expression—something that looked almost like regret. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that infuriating smirk that made you want to scream and cry and leave all at once. He moved closer, his steps unhurried, until he was standing in front of the couch, looking down at you with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

"Lie to you?" he echoed, his voice low and almost playful. "Have I ever lied to you, love?"

You laughed then, a bitter, humorless sound that cut through the air like a knife. "Every time you walk through that door smelling like another woman," you said quietly. "That's a lie."

Tilting his head, he studied you with the same detached curiosity he might have given to a puzzle or a particularly interesting opponent. "And yet you're still here," he said, his tone almost gentle, as if he were pointing out a simple fact rather than delivering a cruel truth.

A truth that made you look away, your eyes focusing on the mug on the table, the faint steam rising from it already beginning to fade. "I don't know why I stay," you admitted softly.

But he knew. He always knew. You stayed because leaving would mean admitting defeat, because walking away from him would feel like tearing out a piece of yourself. He was your poison, and you drank him willingly, knowing full well the damage he caused.

Dazai knelt in front of you then, his hand resting lightly on your knee, his touch both a comfort and a trap. "You stay," he said softly, his voice laced with something almost tender, „because you need me as much as I need you."

And you hated him for it, hated the way he could make you feel so small, so powerless, and yet so completely his. However, most of all, you hated the way he was right. Because no matter how much it hurt, no matter how many nights you spent waiting for him to come home, you couldn't bring yourself to leave. He was your ruin, and you loved him for it.

::

You stared at the ceiling, wide awake, the darkness pressing down like an unbearable weight. The world outside was silent, but the inside of your chest roared—an endless cacophony of questions, doubts, and raw, unfiltered grief. Beside you, Tachihara lay motionless, his breath even, his body still. You hated the way it looked like peace.

But you knew better.

The man next to you wasn’t sleeping, either. He hadn’t slept properly since the day you confronted him, since the truth you had both been circling for weeks finally spilled into the light. You wondered what haunted him now—the memory of her hands on him, or the sight of your face when you had seen the truth written in black-and-white on his phone.

And what haunted you? Was it the message? Or the way his voice had sounded when he answered, “I’ve been seeing her for a few months,” as if it was some minor detail, as if time made any difference to the wound it had left in your chest? Was it the fact that he hadn’t even flinched when you asked? Or was it the part of you that still ached for him, even now, even after everything?

How cruel it was, to love someone who had already ruined you.

Tachihara lay still beside you, his muscles tense, his body heavy with the weight of your proximity. He could feel your presence, feel your anger and heartbreak radiating off of you like heat. He wanted to reach out, to touch you, to say something that would shatter this unbearable silence. But what was there to say?

Sorry.

The word sat on the tip of his tongue, heavy and bitter, but he couldn’t force it out. What good was sorry? What did it even mean? It wouldn’t erase what he had done. It wouldn’t take away the betrayal or the image of her name on his phone. It wouldn’t make you trust him again.

And yet, regret consumed him, burning through his chest like fire. It was strange, the way regret worked. How it could lie dormant, hidden beneath layers of justifications and excuses, only to erupt when you least expected it. He had told himself it didn’t mean anything—that what he had done with her was separate from what he had with you. That you were different, that you were home. But now, as he lay beside you, drowning in your silence, he realized how naïve that had been.

You thought about asking him if he regretted it. The question lingered on your tongue like poison, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak it. Part of you didn’t want to know the answer.

Because what if he said no?

What if he looked you in the eye and told you it had been worth it? What if he said that she had given him something you never could? The thought made your stomach twist, but it wasn’t the worst possibility. No, the worst, the cruelest option was if he were to say yes. That he would tell you he regretted it, that it had been a mistake, that it hadn’t meant anything. Because then, you would have to wonder why. Why he had done it, why he had risked everything for something meaningless. Why you weren’t enough to make him stay loyal, to make him want only you.

And that question, you realized, was one you couldn’t bear to ask.

Tachihara thought about leaving. The idea had been circling in his mind for days now, an escape route he kept coming back to when the weight of it all became too much. Maybe, just maybe, it would be better this way. If he left, you wouldn’t have to see him every day and be reminded of what he’d done. You could start over, find someone who wouldn’t hurt you the way he had. Someone who deserved you. Yet, somehow, leaving felt like running, and running wasn’t something he allowed himself to do. Not in work, not in life, and certainly not with you. Not being ready to give up, even if part of him knew he should, he wasn’t ready to let you go, to walk away from the only person who had ever made him feel whole.

And that was the cruelest part of it all. He had betrayed you, hurt you in a way he couldn’t take back. But he still loved you. God, he loved you.

And yet, love didn’t feel like it could be enough anymore.

In between this hungry emptiness, you tried to remember the person you had been before him. Before his sharp smiles and warm hands, before the way he made you feel like the world was finally something you could bear. You had been lonely, yes, but you had been safe. And now?

Now you felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into an abyss you didn’t know how to cross. This man had been your anchor, your constant, your home. And now he was the storm, the thing tearing you apart piece by piece.

Tachihara wondered if you hated him. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. In fact, he almost wished you did. Hatred would be easier than this unbearable silence, this suffocating distance between you. Hatred was something he could understand, something he could face head-on.

However, you didn’t hate him. He could see it in the way you still lingered in the same room, the way you hadn’t told him to leave, even when you had every right to. And somehow, that made it worse. Because, in the end, if you didn’t hate him, it meant you still cared. It meant he had broken something precious, something that might never be whole again.

And for what? For a distraction? For a fleeting moment of escape from the weight of his own insecurities? The thought made him sick.

As you rolled onto your side, your back still facing him, you closed your eyes. You weren’t sure if you were trying to shut him out or if you were just trying to shut yourself in. Unapologetically , your mind wandered to the things you wanted to say to him. How badly you wanted to scream at him, to ask him why, to demand answers to questions you didn’t know how to phrase.

But you stayed silent. Not because you didn’t care, but because you cared too much.

Words felt useless now.

Turning his head to look at you, his chest ached with the weight of everything he wanted to say. He wanted to tell you that he was sorry, that he would take it all back if he could. He wanted to tell you that you were the only thing that had ever felt real to him, the only thing that had ever mattered.

But the words caught in his throat, tangled up in his guilt and his shame. He didn’t deserve to say them.

So he stayed silent, listening to the sound of your breathing, wondering if you were awake, wondering if you were thinking about him. About her. About whether he was worth saving.

In the end, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched on, heavy and unyielding, until it became something alive, something that filled the space between you like a living, breathing thing.

And maybe that was the cruelest part of all. Not the betrayal, not the guilt, not even the regret.

It was the silence.

A/N this is a re-do of my old cheating fic but sadder? and i added tachihara because i saw a delicious edit on tiktok… i still have to write my yandere fic that got requested like four times? maybe next week since university has started again and i am already not having it, dedicated this to @/saoirseyun because i am down bad.

yours, ella

[jellybeanium124]

some clarification for these two and anyone else who is confused:

I already knew my experiences are not universal bc of the fandom I'm in, where E-rated fics like this get the most hits and kudos and love. like I knew this is popular but I wanted to know what people had to say about it. the tags of this post have been very interesting!

I am sex-positive as fuck (sex positive: the opinion that consenting adults should be able to make whatever choices they want about sex without judgment or persecution, be that lots of sex, kinky sex, vanilla sex, little sex, or no sex. this is unrelated to "sex favorability" which is an ace term for ace people who like sex anyways. I am adding this definition not because I think anyone is an idiot but because some people do use them interchangeably so I want to be completely clear)

I didn't mean to come across as obnoxious. I am confused. genuinely confused. autism-style yknow like everyone else on this site lol? I wanted to know what people liked about these fics and I got my answer and it's interesting! I woke up this morning and read everyone's tags and it was so cool to read everyone's opinions

I tried to prevent people thinking about me like this by explicitly adding that I do sometimes try to read these fics with the express purpose of praising the authors in the comments for their smut. like I have tried it! especially if it's from authors I love! I pass no judgment! I think it's cool and epic!!! it just bores me personally!!

I know my experience is weird and niche. as an ace weirdo my interest in sexual stuff is sort of like a bubble diagram. there's my main kink as the center bubble, and a bunch of smaller, side-kinks that connect back to the main one in some way. I find it difficult to enjoy my side kinks if they're not related back to the main kink in some way or another. I've seen people who I theoretically share a kink with talk/write about it in such a way that it does nothing for me because it's divorced from the main kink. I am not better or worse than anyone else because my brain is built like this. but it does make vanilla erotica hard to connect to. occasionally the emotions do hit hard enough for me to stick around and read it, but usually that's because the smut is connected to a longer fic with some kind of intense emotional plot

I'm not "getting ratio'd" because that implies I'm losing or something lol. I'm not losing. a bunch of people are replying to my poll! being in the minority opinion is not always a "bad" thing or means you're "losing." I knew I was the minority opinion and that's ok <3

ps I love all the people replying with "yes I love it as long as they are soooooo in love" versus the one guy who said "yes I love it as long as the emotions are there, and those emotions are suffering and whump and at least one person having a bad time" I love you random citizen!!!

sincerely an ace who finds PWPs the dullest and least interesting kind of fanfic to the point where sometimes I try to force myself to read one when it's one of my friends who posted it so I can share some love in the comments but I end up skipping most of it because reading about sex is boringggggggg sorry xoxo

[marauder-misprint]

The Morning After

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.3k words

cw: fluff

The next morning, you aren’t talking to anyone. You are far too in your head with conflicted feelings about yesterday’s date to converse with anyone. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t feel all the eyes on you. Word of your date with Sirius had quickly spread beyond your friend group. There are whispers accompanying the stares but your ‘don’t talk to me’ face wards off any questions directed at you, for the most part. 

“Well?” Regulus asks as soon as you sit down across from him at breakfast. 

Dorcas leans her elbow on the table so she can get a full look at you. Instead of answering Regulus, you reach for a mug in front of you and it’s filled with tea by the time it reaches your lips. Regulus waits a moment after you set the mug down before giving Dorcas a pleading look. 

“How was it?” Dorcas asks.

You hum. “Could use some sugar. Can you pass it?”

Regulus holds out the container of sugar cubes for you.

“We’re not talking about your tea,” he says. His voice is teetering on impatience. 

“No?” you retort blandly. You didn’t want to talk about the date until you knew how you felt about it. 

“How was your day with Sirius?” Dorcas asks. 

You take another sip of your tea and nod.

“Much better,” you mumble. 

Dorcas and Regulus share an annoyed look.

“Can’t you just get the rundown from Marlene later?” Pandora asks Dorcas with a hand gesturing toward the Gryffindor table. “Seems like Sirius is more talkative this morning.”

Sure enough, when you turn around, you can see Sirius deep in a lively conversation. He’s surrounded by his usual crowd, all of whom are leaning in, captivated by whatever he’s talking about. James throws his head back laughing as Marlene says something. By the looks of the rest of the group’s reaction, it was an insult aimed at Sirius. 

Facing Regulus again, you sigh. “It was… fine. He wasn’t a complete arse.”

Dorcas’ face lit up. She had hoped the date went well because if you started actually dating Sirius, she’d have another Slytherin in their Gryffindor group. The Gryffindor group that already liked you. 

“Sooooo, will there be another?” she asks eagerly. 

Your face snaps towards hers. “I don’t know,” you say bitterly. “Maybe? Probably not?” You groan and rub your temples. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Like what?” Dorcas crosses her arms. She obviously wants to know every detail about  your date and why there won’t be a second one. 

“Isn’t there a quidditch match coming up? Last one of the term?” 

“Yeah, but that’s not nearly as interesting as-” 

You threw a slice of toast at Regulus to shut him up.

“Talk about quidditch or I’m eating in silence.”

---

At that moment, you want to be left alone so you can work on your assignments. You can’t work in your dorm, Dorcas and Pandora would hound you for details about the date. You can’t work in the common room, same thing but with Regulus and maybe Evan and Barty since they were nosy. You drag yourself to the library and search for an empty table that’s semi-out of sight. You really hope people respect the unwritten rules of the library that when someone is working, you leave them alone. 

For the most part, they do. You are completely unbothered minus the few lingering stares and too-loud whispered comments. You work through it. It’s nothing too disruptive and one harsh glance from you often sent the culprits scurrying off. 

“-made progress, Moony. I really think she’s warming up to me!”

That voice. You stop writing, eyes wide as you continue to stare at your parchment. 

“That’s great, Padfoot, really, but can you help look for the book?”

“She confirmed that I’m attractive.”

“I know.”

“That has to mean something.”

“Maybe…”

“She didn’t say she wouldn’t write over Christmas!”

“Sirius!” The second voice, that you recognized as Remus, was growing irritated. “We can talk about her later. The Charms essay is a bit more pressing right now.”

The Charms essay. The one you were currently working on and had snagged several books for. You hear Sirius let out a soft groan. You look up in time to see them appear from the shelves next to you. Sirius pales slightly, realizing you probably just heard everything he said. You give them an awkward smile.

“Which book were you looking for? ‘Fraid I might’ve grabbed it,” you offer.

Remus approaches your table, leaving Sirius where he stood. “Tunnels and Tombs of Moldova.”

You scan the table and spot it among the pile of books you haven’t looked at yet. You point at it.

“You can take it. Just bring it back when you’re done?”

“Thanks,” Remus says quickly, grabbing the book and heading off to wherever he and Sirius are set up.

Sirius is still standing just beyond the bookshelf aisle he emerged from. He’s staring at you, waiting for you to say something. 

“You better go with him, Sirius,” you say after a moment. “I doubt Remus will write your entire essay for you.”

Instead of following Remus, Sirius walks up to your table, standing at your shoulder and looking down at your essay. 

“You did enjoy yourself yesterday, yeah?”

It’s one of the few times you’ve heard him sound so uncertain, so unsure of what your answer would be. You tear your eyes from your essay to look into his grey eyes. The uncertainty isn’t just in his voice but etched onto his face. Like he really cares what you have to say.

“It… it wasn’t bad. Don’t think I’ll be writing to you over Christmas, but you know,” you say earnestly.

He runs a hand through his hair.

“So that’s a ‘no’ on a second date then?”

Part of you wants to laugh. Did he really think you were interested? Were you interested?

“Sirius…” 

“Yeah?”

“Ask me again after the next quidditch match.”

The widest grin spread across his face, his eyes lighting up. 

“So there’s a chance! You are warming up to me!”

You give him a gentle shove in the center of his chest, causing him to take a step backwards.

“Don't push it, Black,” you warn as you turn back to your essay and reach to grab a new book from the pile. 

There is silence again so you assume that Sirius left your side to find Remus. You end up not needing the book that Remus borrowed from you. You finish the essay without it. You move onto your other homework and are about done when Remus comes back, holding the book. 

“Oh, are you leaving?” he asks, confused. 

You nod as you finish stacking the books on the table.

“Are you done with that book? You can just set it on the stack and I’ll get ‘em put away.”

Remus steps forward cautiously and puts the book on top of your pile. He’s eyeing you carefully.

“Are you playing with him?”

Remus’ tone is almost accusatory, which takes you aback. You focus on putting all of your work back into your bag as you answer him.

“No? I don’t think so? What do you mean?”

“I know you heard him when we were over here. Made him jump through some hoops to get you on a date. And now you’ve given him hope that there’ll be a second date. He’s giddy ‘bout it.”

Standing up straighter, you say, “I need time to figure some things out.”

“Hm.”

You watch Remus walk away before turning to tap the stack of books with your wand so they would return to their places. Sirius is giddy about the chance of a second date? You think that’s a bit of an overreaction, but you’re not sure if you can talk since you don’t know how you feel about him. He was so concerned about if you had a good time yesterday. You had had a good time. You’d be damned if you told anyone that right now. The more you thought about it, you didn’t not have a good time every time you were around him. Maybe if you got to know him a little bit more…

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468, @bmyva1entine, @ravisinghs-wife

[ladybirdswritings]

INVISIBLE STRING, AU — clark kent x reader.

DESCRIPTION: you lock eyes with a charming stranger at a party you’d rather not be at, and now he’s finding it hard to resist you. NOTES - leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | prev part ; next part

four;

You had only one partner in your entire life—and Christ knew how awfully that ended. Still, each relationship taught you the same lesson: crying in front of them, especially too quickly, was as cruel as a death sentence.

But here you were, eyes glossy as you fought to suppress every awful, hopeless feeling swelling in your chest, the credits of The Notebook rolling on the screen.

Did that love even exist? Better yet, would you ever find it?

You couldn’t stop the quiver in your pretty, pink lips.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Hey,” Clark called, his laugh breathy, and your shoulders tensed.

You didn’t want to rush this, or push anything further. You weren’t entirely convinced he wasn’t hiding something underneath that perfect façade.

But Clark hadn’t hurt you when he brought you to his apartment. He hadn’t hovered over you when you sat on his dark emerald couch. Quite the opposite, in fact—he’d given you space, letting you curl up in the corner with a blanket, sitting a cushion away to make sure you felt comfortable.

Funnily enough, your mind wandered to how his body had felt in the bookshop just hours before, swaying so close to yours.

Christ…

“I’m fine.” You laughed at yourself, shaking your head, a sniffle escaping as your eyes blinked, letting two tears fall. Clark adjusted his glasses with his wrist, grabbing a tissue from his abstract glass table and offering it to you. You accepted it gratefully.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he cooed, his voice a deep, soothing balm for the anxiety gnawing at your stomach. “I’ve cried at this film too.”

He was lying, but his words made you laugh, and that was enough for him. He grinned as you wiped your tears away.

“Are you lying to me?” Your watery doe eyes were too pretty a sight—and though Clark prided himself on being a strong man, he grew weak under your gaze.

“Yes,” he admitted, and after a long pause, you both erupted into a fit of laughter—breathless and wiping your eyes when it ended.

Clark sighed long and deep, leaning back against the cushions, gazing lazily at you with one arm resting along the back of the couch, his fingers grazing your shoulder.

“God, you’re pretty.” The words slipped out like a breath, and that ever-present pinch returned to his brows when he realized what he’d said. But when you flushed a soft pink and brought your shy gaze to meet his, he made no effort to take the words back.

A comfortable silence settled between you both. You peered at him through watery lashes, and he gazed at you with a soft smile, as though he was memorizing the delicate features of your face.

“Clark,” you started, and he hummed in response, too busy counting the sparse freckles on your face, tracing constellations in their scattered stars.

“Why’d you ask me out on a date?”

Maybe it was the wine, the gentle breeze flowing through the window, or the way he looked at you—as if he’d known you for a thousand lifetimes. Whatever it was, you couldn’t suppress the question from slipping past your lips.

He shifted, leaning forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he considered your words.

“It’s been a long time since anyone’s interested me,” he said plainly, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. Your curious mind didn’t think that was enough—but before you could push for more, you held back the urge.

He turned his head to you slowly, tilting it with a playful glint.

“Why’d you say yes?” he asked, grinning lazily.

You found yourself flushing pink again as you considered your answer.

Because you look like Adonis.

Because I’d be an idiot to say no.

Because I need to know if you’re a serial killer or not.

“Because you read books.”

Oof.

You winced as the words left your mouth, watching his brows furrow and the grin slowly fade from his lips. You felt the urge to crawl into a hole, but instead, you scooted closer on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you.

“I’m awful with words,” you admitted, voice small.

Clark recovered quickly, masking his brief disappointment with another lazy grin. “But you’re pretty,” he repeated, his gaze softening as he leaned closer to you.

For a moment, time seemed to slow. Your gazes locked, pulling you both closer like magnets.

And then, in a blink, he was there. One arm on your hip, just like earlier. The other gripped the couch as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to his self-control.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” he whispered.

And though the parts of you scarred by past trauma screamed for you to take it slow, to hold back—

Well.

Fuck it.

You nodded once, and his lips were on yours—soft, slow, and tentative.

One peck, and he pulled back, scanning your eyes for any trace of regret or hesitation. When he found none, he dove in again. Only this time, his glasses bumped your nose.

You winced, and his eyes widened. But then you broke into an amused smile. He mirrored you, a ghost of a laugh playing on his lips as he removed his too-big glasses and set them aside.

“Let me kiss it better, baby,” he whispered, and God, you melted.

Baby.

In that moment, you knew. Even if he eventually broke your heart or turned cruel, you’d still long to hear that word fall from his lips.

Oh, but slowly, he leaned forward again and pressed a soft kiss to where his glasses had bumped your nose. Then another to your cheek, and another, then your eyelids, your chin, your forehead—exploring you, savoring you. He hovered just shy of your lips, his arms warming your skin, his fingers finding a home cupping your cheeks. His thumbs brushed against the apples of them.

“I want to keep kissing you,” he whispered, his voice strained, deeper now. You interrupted him, unknowingly.

“So do it, Clark.”

He inhaled sharply, a strained grin playing at the corners of his lips.

If he were a lesser man…

“If I keep kissing you,” he admitted, his voice low and heated, “I’m going to have a hard time stopping.”

And you swayed in your seat, body humming with anticipation. He pressed soft kisses to your forehead, each one igniting the fire inside you, while your eyes dropped downward.

And then you saw it.

A bulge—strained but undeniable—aching to be released. To be touched.

A very big, demanding bulge.

Maybe his kisses were meant to distract you from it. Or maybe he wanted your innocent little eyes to fall upon it.

Unbeknownst to you, it had started to ache the moment he inhaled your intoxicating scent in the bookshop. One kiss, and it had been pulsing.

You gulped, wide-eyed as his kisses moved to your temples, his lashes tickling your skin.

Maybe it was the way he called you baby, or maybe it was curiosity… or maybe, just maybe, you felt as though you owed him something.

Yes, that was it.

He’d been so kind to you. Wasn’t this your obligation?

It’s certainly what your ex used to believe…

You winced as your shaky hand reached for his denim, slowly grazing the firm bulge, your fingers testing the limits of its tightness.

He tensed, his grip on your face tightening as he leaned back a fraction. Awe glazed your expression as you watched him close his eyes, jaw tight and lips pursed. A guttural moan escaped him, shaking both his chest and yours.

You had to keep going, if only to hear that delectable sound again.

Slowly, your fingers found the zipper, inching lower and lower—until his hand snapped down to capture your wrist.

Mortification spread across your cheeks like wisteria vines.

He stopped you, holding your wrist for a moment, catching his breath before his eyes fluttered open again, scanning your face.

A slow, lazy kiss pressed to your wrist, then two more to your reddened cheeks.

“You had wine,” he whispered against your neck, dipping his head into the crook and licking lazily at your pulse.

He hadn’t let go of your hand—not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t trust himself.

His words took a moment to make sense in your foggy mind, but when they did, relief flooded your tense body. You relaxed against him.

He did want you— he just didn’t want you buzzing from wine.

He wanted you whole, complete, present.

You shivered as he traced his tongue from your throat to the soft place beneath your ear, pressing a final kiss there before pulling back.

His face had changed now.

Gone was the gentle, bookish man who’d kindled a fire both for and in you and let you ramble about books. No, this Clark was different—hungry, staring at the finest ambrosia before him.

Ready to pounce.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, and you realized then you'd been staring at his lips.

You licked your own.

"I'm okay, Clark."

He nodded, and in a swift motion, you were seated in his lap, his bulge pressing against your plump bum. The clothing between you only deepened the pulsing ache.

"You just bite me if I cross a line, okay?" You giggled softly at that, and he only nibbled your ear in response, wrapping two strong arms around you and settling back against the couch.

You had been the most fun he'd had in a while—and damn if he wasn't already dreading the moment when you'd part.

"Can I take you home tonight?” he asked, his voice low and filled with a new intensity that made your breath catch. His hands were gentle on your waist, but the tension in his grip told you that he wasn’t quite as calm as he appeared.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with conflicting thoughts and even stronger feelings. You’d never felt so simultaneously vulnerable and desired. There was something about him—something in the way he treated you with patience and respect—that made your guard slip, just a little. And yet, the fear of getting too close, too quickly, still lurked in the back of your mind.

You swallowed hard, trying to push past the anxiety. This isn’t the same as before, you reminded yourself. It doesn’t have to be.

“I think I’d like that,” you said finally, your voice shaky but sincere. You could feel his grip tighten slightly, as though he was holding his breath.

“Are you sure?” He searched your face, wanting to be absolutely certain that you weren’t just saying yes out of some sense of obligation or fear of disappointing him.

You nodded, and a small smile played at the corners of your lips. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

The air between you two shifted, as if the space around you had contracted and expanded all at once, drawing you closer to him. Clark’s eyes softened, and his smile was tender, almost reverent, as he kissed your forehead once more.

“Okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. “C’mon pretty girl.”

He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You took it, allowing him to help you up from the couch, and together, you made your way to the cherrywood door. As you walked out into January’s chill, you found yourself unsurprised when he draped his coat over your shoulders.

As you climbed into the truck, Clark reached over to start the engine, but before he did, he turned to look at you once more, his gaze soft and searching.

“I want you to know ,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “this isn’t just a pass of time for me or my pleasure. You’re pretty, and you’re incredibly tempting… but I don’t expect a thing from you. That’s not the man I am.”

He could be lying. As your ex had, as many others had before. Christ, you’d just met him a few weeks ago. Were you to believe his words were truly more than just a ploy to get you comfortable?

One stolen glance into his blue-gray gaze though, and you just knew that could not be true.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, a mix of relief and something else—something deeper, something unfamiliar but present. You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against his hand as he reached for the gear shift.

“I’m not like that either,” you replied, your voice steady and sincere. “But I think you know that.”

He grinned, not needing to say more words as the tension eased from his shoulders and he shifted the car into drive. As you pulled away from the apartment building and into the quiet streets, you weighed each syllable of his words with scrutiny. You thought yourself to be a fool for considering them honest.

But that was okay.

Clark Kent was a man more than determined to prove your pretty little mind wrong…

[highbabyofthenightcourt]

To say that Azriel only feels lust for Elain, because of the bonus chapter, is irrational. From the moment Azriel met Elain, their relationship has been building a solid foundation. Their conversations had substance. She asked about his wings even though it was not relevant at all. He showed her such a gentle side of himself in an attempt to make her feel calm around him, even speaking poetically “we are born hearing the song of the wind.”

When Elain was taken to the cauldron as a human, Azriel was unconscious because of hybern’s arrow. He did not see what was happening and part of me believes that it is because it would be too much of a spoiler for their story, similar to the way Cassian’s reaction for Nesta was a give away of them ending up together.

After the sisters were made, once Feyre decides to take them to the town house, we have the scene between Elain and Azriel where he asks her if she wants to see the garden. Noting that he knew and remembered that she liked flowers. And Elain, does not balk from him, takes his arm and marvels at his scarred hands. She is not afraid of him. Not at all. She accepts his touch and finds beauty in him, even in her broken state.

Once she starts behaving abnormally with her new abilities, everyone assumes she is unwell. Even her mate. The only person who realizes she is a seer is Azriel. Which is interesting timing considering Madja’s words of mates knowing what is amiss with one another.

In the meantime there’s a lot of moments where we can see that Elain and Azriel enjoy spending time together. He lays in the garden reading work reports while she gardens. Feyre mentions that Elain clings to him for comfort in social settings. Even Nesta does not protest to their proximity. It’s logical to assume there are reasons for this.

When the cauldron lures Elain away, the only person who realizes that she is missing is Azriel. He is adamant that he will get her back. This is reminiscent of Rhysand’s attempt to kill Amarantha, and Cassian’s crawling to Nesta when she was to be thrown in the cauldron. He does not care if he will die. This could be taken as him just doing his job, but once they are back to safety and he is horribly injured, he still does not put Elain down from his arms. She has to be taken from him.

Fast forwarding, we see that Azriel has become very jealous of her mate being near Elain. We see that Azriel has spent his time trying to find her a necklace perfect for her. For a year, he has fallen asleep looking at the gift she had gotten him. Once Rhysand interrupted them and she returned his present, he had to be rid of it because he couldn’t bare to have it as a reminder of the pain of that night. He questioned the deity that decided he couldn’t be with her.

To say that all of this is dismissed by the fact that he is also physically attracted to her is ridiculous. To argue that this is true because he hadn’t “planned what to do afterwards” is nonsense. Attraction is actually enlarged by feelings of love. And he didn’t “plan” what he was going to do about it because 1. He had given her the space to be with another 2. He felt that he wasn’t good enough for her 3. Because he didn’t know if she felt the same 4. Because there is a God-like power who is against it. But all of this became irrelevant once he had her before him, once she knew she wanted him, too, once he knew she was aroused by a simple act of his.

And also, i would like to point out that Azriel never tried to initiate contact with Elain. Ever. And he probably never would. He said there was never unrestricted contact between them. She was the one to want his hands on her. She was the one to whisper “yes” to him. Because she wants him, too. She wants him innocently and sexually and romantically, and as does he. Nothing anyone says will discredit all the beautiful build up behind Elriel 💞💞🌸🌸🦇🦇🫶🏼🫶🏼