#at the same time i see no point going somewhere by myself it's just not fun to me

[arliaeien]

This makes me think about my evolution as a writer.

My first long fic, as a new writer, I used to consider a chapter done around 2k~2,5k words. That's around 10 pages in Word.

Rewriting this same story one year later, it grew between 3,5k~5k. At the same time, as a reader, I was enjoying more and more the longer chapters (between 5k~10k).

There had been a long time while I only was writing one-shots, then engaging as a beta reader, making translations... To sum up: not writing stories, and even less, ones needing me to arrange a new story in different chapters.

Some years ago, I dedicated myself to the rewriting of my first story (the last I've done) and had those quite big chapters (around 7k), I was happy with, and that didn't make me think, except that one time, I had to cut one too big in two smaller ones. Those chapters were in no way a 'one idea, one chapter' thing like. The cuts were rather happening when there was a change about the place, and/or time passing.

And when I started writing the sequel of this 80k story, about the characters meeting monthly, I just wrote a one-shot for every month. Whatever it was 10k, 20k or even 30k.

It's not written in English and the fandom was almost dead for the last ten years. There were no readers (think like 30 hits in five years on AO3). So why should I have cared? The big one-shot was what I personally prefer.

Came year 2021. New fandom, existing fan base in English, no one in my mother tongue. And I've gotten this idea of post-canon story. One, nobody had done before me. Or rather, nobody had done it, the way I wanted it to be. It's this that has triggered me trying to write in English. ...probably succeeding, at some point. It is a 70k, in the end.

First long story in a while, whatever the language was different, I've kept the same tastes and methods, reflecting over the construction of the story, and ended up having chapter between 5k~7,5k. My goal was quite easy : three main ideas / scenes making one chapter. Providing long chapters to readers was what's important to me, because that's what I love myself.

Up to these last years. I'm working on a monster story (156k ongoing \o/). I didn't have any plan, starting writing it. My first chapter was a two-big-scenes, around 3K words, which I consider cool enough. Second chapter... was happening later, somewhere else. And I ended up having four-big-scenes, 7k words. Yeah, could cut this in two parts. Except number 3 was 3-big-scenes and 5k words. Go tear your own hair out. This was difficult to me. I couldn't work with chapters with sizes so different. It wasn't me. It didn't feel good. I couldn't see how anyone could actually enjoy such variations. How could it be considered otherwise than "Oh yeah, one long/short chapter!" / "Oh no, one long/short chapter!" depending on the reader's taste.

How long is not the point. REGULARITY was the point.

So my badly proportionate 'chapters' became 'arcs'. And every arc, was cut around 1,5k words. One idea, two maximum, and cut! I loved this. Writing fanfictions about one manga whose chapters were arranged to form arcs, it felt like respecting the canon better. Felt great!

...well, I was still myself. My goal of going between 1,2k~2k words for one chapter become 1,5k~2k. Then 2,5k. Today, I'm a little annoyed proofreading, having to fight against myself for some of them not going over 3k. Not too bad, but not what I wanted.

This to say: I'm living a paradox. The way I publish this story wouldn't suit me as a reader. 1,5k or even 2k a week is to me desperately slow.

I just can't. Re-reading some moments of the story for pleasure, or working on it, I usually go with 3 of them. Sometimes 4. All by instinct, not caring whether it's an arc or crossing two or more of them. Because the 5k~10k is what work for me as a reader :P

So, what's my point?

The ideal length doesn't exist. It's a matter of skill, and of feelings, but not only. My ideal length as a new writer was different from 2-years experience me, 5-years, 10-years, and now 18-years experience me. Sometimes I've cared about reader-experience, sometimes I haven't. I have loved the years producing the fattest one-shots. It's unrivaled freedom writing something. But even without arranging chapters, there were breaks, cutting scenes, the reader was able to breathe. And nowadays, publishing weekly for one year and a half, I use a format I wouldn't like myself but readers seems to enjoy (and that's strangely the same as the one I once used as a beginner : 2,5k per chapter).

...perhaps all this is a circle. ⚪

While looking for something else, I found an old ask I answered about "ideal chapter length" in terms of word count.

I've been asked this probably a dozen or more times, and each time I need to take a moment and adjust my thinking to take the asker's point of view into account. Because the thing is? The only time I ever try to factor the word count into how I write a story is when I'm aiming for a true drabble.

For whatever reason, this difference in thinking stuck with me today and I actually considered why that might be. And I think it's because I'm in my 40s and the first 25-30 years of my life, any stories I was reading were printed on paper and bound into physical books.

When I imagine a novel, I still think of a mass market paperback on my bookshelf. An average one would be maybe an inch thick, probably in the neighbourhood of 300 pages. A long one would be maybe as much as two inches thick and 500 or more pages long. A short one was always nice to have because it filled in the gaps in the shelf because 200 page books were so much narrower. Or so it seemed.

When I started posting my fic online, I still thought in terms of pages. I'd type them out in whatever word processing software I was using at the time, and I'd usually get a chapter's worth of ideas into 3 or 4 pages. Turns out that's about 1000 words, which makes sense with the number of 1000 word essays I wrote in high school. I'd been trained to encapsulate an idea into approximately that length.

And that's what it comes down to. The thing that always made that question seem weird to me. A chapter isn't about how many words there are in it, just like a cake isn't about how many cups of flour exist in each slice. A chapter is a an idea that helps make up a bigger idea called a story, and it needs to be however many words that idea needs to be to get it out.

[frownyalfred]

Lurking reader here! Decided it was past time to chime in. :)

So, just reread the latest chapter again and so so many lovely / interesting moments.

1. If Joker was able to smell Batman without suppressants, guessing it is fairly likely that Joker knows exactly who is under the cowl.

2. "I do. God, Jay, I do." Followed immediately by Alfred and his sass.

3.Loved the nod to Alfred chopping wood! "he likes fires" made me laugh.

4. Bruce is such a little brat isn't he? Purposely putting a very specific scent on Clark just as he is going to work.

5. 2pm Metropolis time? I always assumed that Gotham and Metropolis were like NY and NJ, close by so in the same time zone. Is that not the case?

6. "Deep into his third trimester" => questions about the pregnancy and time line. I didn't think Bruce was that far along. Can you give a rough time line of the pregnancy so far? Bruce found out when he was three weeks along. I assume the events of ASOH took maybe 2 months? So Bruce was around 3 months pregnant when they went to the gala? When Alfred mentions Dan working on repairs over the last 6 months, is that the time jump between stories? Btw, how long is a Kryptonian pregnancy/ hybrid pregnancy?

7. Gotta love how Alfred is like oh year I handled the installation of a whole elevator by myself. 😂

8. I feel like there is a ton of symbolism in the section when Bruce passes out. Vision going green. Tasting blood and soot. And of course the oh so lovely rut accelerant!

As usual, an amazing chapter and I cannot wait to see what comes next. So many details to catch in rereads to look forward to as well.

Hope your Monday has been a good start to the week.

Thank you so much!!!! I'm so glad you're enjoying. Rapidfire responses below:

Yes. Not good news at all. Joker has a very keen sense of smell and Bruce was very, very smellable (is that a word?) at that point in the story

I'm glad you caught that, poor Bruce really has so much self-hatred but he will not put it on Jason's shoulders! Love that for him

I could not help but add that reference to BVS Alfred's woodchopping scene, I think about it like every day

He is SUCH a brat and knows exactly what he did. I almost wrote this scene from his POV but it's funnier if it's from Clark's. I also cut a scene with Lois smelling it at work for space.

This is my own personal headcanon I snuck in there and forgot to explain. Yes they're still across the bay from each other but I thought they'd be petty and maintain the rivalry by insisting on being in different time zones

Bingo, right on the money. Bruce is near the end of his pregnancy, so we jumped a few months. It's roughly the same length as a human pregnancy with some minor changes in gestational speed etc. I have another post on this somewhere, I'll dig it up later

Alfred really knew exactly what Bruce's hesitation about the space would be and ensured he had no reason to say no. I imagined it was already a space (vent, HVAC, etc) that was fairly easy to re-purpose into a one-person elevator. Especially if he got Dan to haul the parts up there without opening them :)

Yes, there's a ton of stuff I was teasing just in that little section. So far, no one has put all of the pieces together yet, but folks in the comments are close.

[veilosdaigoa]

Daily Writing Challenge February 2025 Day 1 - Hypnotic, Star

Fingertips glided gently along his bare side, the muscles beneath twitching slightly in response to the familiar touch. Without even opening his eyes, he smiled, “Morning, my sunshine.”

The ethereal, feminine voice spoke softly against his cheek before lips pressed to the edge of his own, “Stay asleep, it’s not yet time to wake.”

He did as asked, mind lingering somewhere just before a state of unconsciousness as he pulled her body against his to bask in her perpetual warmth for a few moments longer before the horrid dawn arrived and ruined it all. “The kids..” He mumbled in his somnolent state.

She hummed softly, stroking her fingers through his hair, “They’re fine. Just stay asleep for now, just a little bit longer. I don’t want you to leave just yet.”

“Never. I’m not going anywhere.” Lips greedily met lips and he finally cracked his eyes open only to discover he was alone and had fallen asleep yet again on the pull-out couch in his office at The Shielded Mind.

This had become a habit of his at this point. Working late, deciding he was too tired to go home and instead crashed here where he wouldn’t be surrounded by their personal effects, photographs, and memories of what once was. He recognized it wasn’t terribly healthy, mentally or physically, but everyone dealt with loss in their own ways, and his grief seemed to come and go with the tides.

It had been a particularly difficult couple of months, but the beginning of the year was ripe for seasonal depression after the excitement of the holidays faded away. Then there was the love holiday to deal with, and birthdays of those now long gone - there were worse ways of coping than being avoidant of home.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sat up and peeked out the window to the darkened street below, pulling on a pair of loose pajama pants before making his way towards the front stoop of the clinic. He lit up a cigarette, another coping mechanism he told his own patients to avoid, yet here he was enjoying the same disgusting, yet calming habit. The hypnotic hum of the nearby streetlamps lulled him into a comfortable state of dissociation, focusing solely on the rhythmic pull and exhale of smoke.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there, staring blankly up towards the stars above, cigarette now long burnt out but still dangling loosely between lips. There was a muted voice somewhere in the back of his mind, but right now all he could hear was that incessant hum growing louder and louder.

“Veilos!”

The exclamation startled him out of his catatonia as he focused on Doctor Xanelen Deh’lorei standing nearby with a concerned expression. He was well put together as always, wearing a nice pair of slacks and a button-up shirt as if he were at work. But it was still the middle of the night, that didn’t seem right.

“...Are you well?”

Veilos took the cigarette butt out from between his lips and glanced over towards the dawning sun with a furrowed brow. Somewhere in there he had lost a few hours. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last.  “Hmm? Just a long night is all.”

Xanelen eyed the man over, the worry still evident in his gaze, “Go home, Veil. Take the day off.”

“No no, I’m fine. I have some appointme-”

“GO HOME Doctor Dai’goa. I’ll see to them myself.” It wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. Even if Xanelen wasn’t technically his boss, he was his Doctor and he knew Veil better than anyone else did given their time in the military spent serving together.

“Yeah. Let me just get my stuff and I’ll go…” He refrained from saying ‘home’, currently uncertain if his path would take him there today or not. He could use a shower and a fresh pair of clothes, at the very least, and then just maybe he could fall back into that wonderful dream.

@daily-writing-challenge @xanelen @theshieldedmind

[rapidhighway]

I wish my friends invited me somewhere ToT we're supposed to be in a friend group why is everyone taking someone else cool places 😭😭

[ghouljams]

Ok nobody extrapolate anything about me from this...

The first time you cry in front of the 141:

The first time you cry in front of Ghost it's because you can't fucking take it anymore. All the little things, all the comments you know he didn't mean to hurt, all the conversations you ignored because you didn't want to make him feel like the bad guy, it all comes to a head. You don't even mean it to happen, and you feel like shooting yourself on the spot as soon as the tears start flowing. It feels manipulative. It feels disingenuous. You feel like a piece of shit having him awkwardly bundle you in his arms as you break down sobbing over a topic that normally would mean nothing to you. And it all comes out. All the worries and slights you ignored, all the fears and doubts, all the things that made you question if you could ever even start to bring up with him. Like throwing up, once it starts you can't stop it.

He looks like you've hit him when you finally escape his bear hug. You barely get the chance to take it in before you're thrust back into sobbing hysterics, blubbering out apologies, how you feel like you're manipulating him, how you're a bad partner, how you're sure he's going to realize he doesn't want you and leave. You barely hear the rough "Jesus Christ" over your own hiccuping.

Ghost shuffles the two of you over to grab you a t-shirt to blow your nose in while you're sniffling and wiping at your eyes. You feel pathetic having him hold the fabric to your face and telling you to blow.

"Didn't know ya made this much snot love," he jokes.

"You're dot funny," you whine, nose still clogged with wattery mucus as your tears finally start calming down.

"I know," he grumps.

"You're mad at me," you sniffle.

"I'm not," he sounds mad, "mad at myself. Shoulda seen ya keepin' things to yourself, I'm glad ya finally told me." His scarred mouth screws to one side. "Just gotta work on makin' sure we don't get to this point again."

-

The first time you cry in front of Soap it's because you're so fucking mad at him. He's arguing with you over nothing, the same way he always does when he's in a bad mood. Finding little things that dig at you and twisting just enough to make it not his fault when you snap. Back and forth with your barbs until you got to bed angry.

You can feel the tears burning at your waterline before they spill and you know your hot cheeks don't bode any better. You're not yelling but you almost wish you were, at least of you were yelling at each other it might make you feel better about the sudden waterworks. You hate when this happens. Too big an emotion in the body, it has to come out somewhere, you suppose this is just the quickest avenue. The way Soap's face drops from anger to concern pisses you off though.

"Hen, are ya-"

"I'm so fucking mad right now," you assure him, "don't look at me, don't even acknowledge them."

"Ah dinnae ken," His voice is getting softer, it only makes you more upset, "Oh my bonnie, ahm sorry ah didnae think this would hurt ya so bad."

"Fuck off," you try to push past him to lock yourself in the bathroom and he catches your arm to pull you against him. "Fuck off!" You shriek, pushing at him.

"No," he holds you a little tighter, "my mam would 'ave my heid hearin' ah let ya walk away from me like this, yer stayin' 'ere."

"I will fucking skin you Mactavish," you struggle harder.

"Aye anno, now shut up an' quit yer kickin'."

You do neither of those things.

-

The first time Gaz sees you cry it's because no one's ever seen you before. Even in your best relationships, your closest friendships, no one sees you like Gaz. No one picks you up from work with flowers and takes you by your favorite bakery just so you can have a slice of cake when you watch your comfort show. You're not even through the title music, Gaz sorting through your takeout options after he'd gotten you a "fancy plate" and a small fork to eat with, when you break down in sobs. He's on you immediately, hushing you as he gathers you into his arms. He's so attentive it hurts.

"It's OK baby," he hums, "don't have to talk about it, you just let it out."

God even that gets you crying. You don't have to get your words right or find a way to explain what you're feeling, you can just feel it. You try to think of a way to put it into words but it all lines up wrong, sounds too juvenile, doesn't make any sense even to you. There's no need to say anything though, Gaz just sits there with you, holds you through it as you wet his shoulder with your tears.

You don't even know why you're crying by the end of it, you just kept coming up with other reasons to cry. Jesus you don't think you ever got over your last grandparent dying, or losing that one friend, that's something to unpack later. You feel drained. Literally dehydrated drained. Gaz's shirt is soaked, but he doesn't day anything when you pull back.

He cups your cheek at wipes at the wet stains on your cheek with his thumb, eyes searching yours before he gives you a tight smile.

"Why don't you go take a hot shower, yeah?" He offers, you give him a watery nod, he smiles and pats your knee. "Alright, off you go. I'll be in, in a second."

The second time you cry in front of Gaz it's before he's got you pinned to the shower wall.

-

The first time Price sees you cry it's because you're tired. You're tired of giving everything to this relationship and seeing him leave right when things seem to be falling into place. His phone buzzes in the middle of the night and you don't stop the downpour when he grumbles out a swear and turns on the light. You glare at the ceiling and let the tears flow. It hurts. Tight in your chest. This feeling like you'll never be enough, like he'll always have something more important than you, it kills you. So why can't you leave him?

Are the good times really good enough to make up for the bad?

It makes him stop what he was doing when he sees the resolute grimace and the flow of tears over your cheeks. You shudder in a breath when he sits on the side of the bed. You refuse to look at him.

How could he do this to you?

"Sweetheart," he starts, his voice low, gentling, "I'm sorry."

"You're not." You correct him, "Otherwise you wouldn't keep doing it."

"You want me to choose between you and the world, you know what I'll say." He always sounds so sharp, ready to guilt you into giving up what he wants.

"I'm asking you to choose between me and paperwork," you bite back.

"You don't know-"

"You get phone calls when you're being deployed." You remind him, "You get reminders when papers are due." You turn to glare at him. The look on his face twists like a knife in your chest. You're dead on the money, and it's killing him. "So can this really not wait until the morning, are you really that eager to be rid of me?"

"I'm sorry," he tries again, toeing off his shoes, "you're right, I hadn't noticed." You turn over as he climbs under the duvet again. You fold your legs up as his arm drapes over you hip and he curls around you. His lips touch your shoulder, a silent plea for forgiveness. "Let me make it up to you, no more running into red tape I promise."

You don't bother agreeing to empty promises, but the next day he's had the paperwork sent from the base. The same the next day. Price always told you working from home didn't suit him. Waking you up with a cuppa on the other hand and walking you to the station does though.

He makes good on his promise, he doesn't run off until the next call comes in.

[zyhkoo]

🎸 lovers rock

jason x f!reader, 18+, situationship, smut, afab!reader, angst

( he’s so sick of this, yet he cannot get enough )

Jason Todd has known you for a long time. The two of you were friends, or so he thought. Though, he tried his hardest to make something happen— but it just didn’t work and he gave up.

Sometimes, you would get his hopes up a bit and then back to the friend status it is. Jason didn’t know why he would give so much just for you. Sometimes, you would be the person he loved or hated the most in the world. Though he does not understand why he cannot let you go.

There was a family party in the Wayne manor, and since you were close to the family you were of course; invited. Board games were scattered on the floor, Stephanie and Cass were sleeping on the couch, Dick and Tim were somewhere else while you and Jason were in his bedroom.

He didn’t let just anyone in his old childhood bedroom, this room had many memories he’d like to forget or have trouble remembering. And now he was here, with you. You were a bit drunk, just for safe measures— Jason didn’t let you come home.

You were flipping through photo albums while Jason played soft music through his speakers. Jason sat across the bed with a slight frown on his face as he watched you carefully flip through the pages of his photo albums. He felt a mix of nostalgia and discomfort, but your presence provided a strange comfort in the midst of it all.

He took a sip of his drink, swirling the amber liquid within. He could hear a chuckle escaping your lips, “If you drink more, you’re gonna get a bad hangover.” Jason rolled his eyes at your comment.

"You know me well enough to know that a hangover wouldn't stop me from doing anything." He replied, tipping his glass back and taking another swig.

He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze drifting back towards you. "I can handle my alcohol just fine," he added defiantly. "Besides, it's not like I plan on doing much tomorrow anyway."

Jason leaned back further into the headboard, his gaze still fixed on you as he observed your expressions as you browsed through the memories captured in those photos. He wasn’t sure himself what he was feeling. A mix of nostalgia, confusion, and something else he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Maybe it was the effect of the alcohol.

Jason's mind was a turmoil of emotions. He knew he should feel angry, frustrated with your constant hot-and-cold behavior. But there was also a conflicting sense of happiness at having you here, being in the same room as him.

He clenched his jaw, trying to sort out his thoughts, but the alcohol wasn't helping. He let out a sigh, looking at you once more, watching as you chuckled at one of the photos.

“Hey, scoot over. Look at this.” you said. Jason rolled his eyes but moved over, making room for you on the bed. He settled back against the headboard, he watched you excitedly find a particular photo in the album. You sat down beside him, holding the photo out for him to see.

He leaned closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as he peered down at the image. “You’re so cute here.” you pointed out.

It was a picture from many years ago, back when he was a scrawny kid in his early teens. In the photo, he was wearing a Batman onesie, a wide grin on his face as he posed awkwardly next to a younger Bruce.

"Right," he grumbled, taking another swig of his drink, trying to hide his embarrassment. You frowned, “Hey, don’t drink too much.” Jason rolled his eyes, although secretly appreciating your concern.

"Relax, I'm just enjoying myself a bit," he assured you,there was an edge of defensiveness in his voice, as if he was trying to prove something.

You scoffed, “I’m serious.” Jason let out a huff of frustration, his defense crumbling under your concerned gaze. "And I'm serious about being able to handle myself," he retorted, his voice growing a bit heated. "I don’t need you mothering me."

You mirrored his annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm not trying to mother you. I'm just trying to look out for you." You replied, your own voice rising slightly. "You don't always have to pretend like you're invincible."

Jason's jaw tightened at your words, the familiar feeling of frustration towards you growing within him again. He knew you were right, but he hated how you always seemed to know what was best for him, even when he didn't want to admit it.

"I'm not an idiot," he replied tightly, his eyes flickering away from yours. You sighed, “Sorry for snapping.” Jason looked over at you, his expression softening a bit at your apology. He knew you meant well, even if sometimes you drove him crazy.

"It's alright," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "I guess I do get a bit carried away sometimes."

A moment of silence passed between you two, the air still filled with a hint of tension. Jason couldn't help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye, taking in your features, the way your hair fell over your shoulders. For a moment, he felt the urge to reach out and touch you, but he stopped himself, reminded of the complicated situation between you two.

As the first light of sunrise began to peek through the curtains, Jason couldn't help but notice the time had passed.

"Looks like sunrise is here," he mused, his voice low. “Everyone is probably passed out downstairs by now." Jason glanced over at you, he knew what you meant. This moment between you two, sharing a bed, talking in low, soft voices while the early morning light filtered through the curtains. It was a surreal moment, one he didn't want to end, but he knew it was temporary.

“This doesn’t look real.” you muttered. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he said, his eyes fixated on your face, trying to memorize every feature. You sighed as you leaned your head on the pillows, “Are you sick of me?”

The question surprised him. It was one he had asked himself many times, but hearing it from you made everything feel even more complicated.

"No," he said, his voice firm. "I could never be sick of you." He wasn't sure why exactly, but it was the truth. No matter how mad you drove him, how much you toyed with his emotions, he couldn't get enough of you.

You looked back, “Truth?”

"Truth," he confirmed.

"No matter how frustrated you make me, or how confusing things between us are, I can't get enough of you. I... I care about you too much, even when I know I probably shouldn't."

“Would I be an ass if i asked for a kiss?” you said, looking at his gaze. Jason's heart skipped a beat at your question. He wasn't sure if he had heard you correctly. But there you were, looking at him seriously, awaiting an answer. He tried to keep his cool, not wanting to let on how affected he was by your words.

"That depends," he replied, his voice slightly hoarse, "Are you gonna break my heart tomorrow like you always do?"

“I hope not.” you responded. Jason searched your eyes for any hint of deception, any sign that you were just toying with his emotions again. But all he could see was a mixture of honesty and vulnerability in your gaze.

He swallowed, his throat feeling dry, before responding.

"Okay," he whispered, "Just one kiss."

Jason closed his eyes as your hand caressed his cheek, he leaned in closer, his lips just inches away from yours, his heart pounding in his chest.

His body was practically pressed against yours now, the heat between you two almost tangible. You then leaned in and pressed a slow kiss on his lips.

Jason's heart raced further as your lips met his. The kiss was gentle, slow, and it took all his restraint not to deepen it, to pull you closer and never let you go. He melted into the kiss, his hand rising to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.

Your head hit the headboard with a *thump*. Jason winced at the sound and pulled back slightly, his eyes snapping open to see if you were hurt. "Are you okay?" he asked, his hand still gently cupping your face. You chuckled, “Yeah, keep going if you wanna.”

"You're gonna be the death of me," he muttered. He leaned in again, his lips finding yours in another slow, searing kiss. Your hands slowly trailed up to the hand covering your cheek.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue lightly tracing the seam of your lips, silently asking for entry. You gladly parting your lips, slowly kissing him with your tongue.

Jason drew back, his chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. His eyes roamed over your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips.

"You're so beautiful," he leaned back in, his forehead resting against yours, his hand still woven through your hair, keeping you close. “You okay?” you asked. Jason couldn't help but chuckle softly at your question.

"Yeah, I'm more than okay," he assured you, his breath still slightly ragged from the kiss. "Just trying to catch my breath. You tend to make it a bit difficult to do that, you know."

“Alcohol makes you do crazy things I guess.” you chuckled. Jason nodded, his hand unconsciously caressing your hair, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the nape of your neck.

"Yeah, alcohol and you are a dangerous combination,"

The next few minutes seemed to blur together. Clothes were shed, skin meeting skin, lips trailing over every inch of exposed flesh, leaving kisses, bites, and marks in their wake.

Even in the heat of passion, your concern for him always shone through. You'd pause between kisses, your breath ragged, to ask if he was okay, if he wanted to stop.

Jason would reassure you that he was more than okay, that he wanted this just as much as you did. He'd pull you closer, his hands roaming over your body with need and desire, silently begging for more.

As the last piece of clothing fell away, exposing the two of you fully to one another, Jason couldn’t help but marvel at the sight in front of him. You were beautiful, every curve and freckle seemed to call out to him.

He gently pushed you back against the bed, his body hovering over yours. Jason's hands roamed over your body, touching, caressing, savoring the feel of your skin against his. His breath ghosted over your neck, planting kisses and nips along your skin.

Jason's body moved over yours, aligning perfectly with yours as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "Are you sure?" he asked huskily, his voice barely above a whisper, his body already quaking with the effort to hold back.

“Yes, just go.” you softly smiled as you touched his cheek. Jason nodded, his mouth going dry at your touch. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, before slowly, gently, he began to move.

His body moved against yours in a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust bringing them closer and closer together. He watched your face intently, his eyes drinking in every flicker of expression, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

“Ah… fuck.” you hissed in pleasure. Jason swallowed hard at the sound of your hiss. He couldn’t believe how good this felt, how good you felt beneath him. Every gasp and sigh from you sent shivers down his spine, his body responding instinctively, moving a little harder, a little faster.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he groaned. His lips found your neck, kissing and biting softly. All that mattered was you, the sound of your gasps and moans, the feel of your body moving against his. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hips moving erratically as he neared his breaking point.

He tried to hold on, to draw out this moment as much as he could, but it was impossible. Waves of pleasure washed over him, his body trembling with the force of his release.

As he came apart, he pulled you closer, his hands tangled in your hair, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin. He held onto you tightly, as if afraid you'd disappear if he let go. For a few moments, everything faded away, and the only thing in his world was you.

You huffed, “Are you okay?” you asked again. Jason was still trying to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he looked down at you. "Yeah," he nodded, "Yeah, I'm okay." A small, lopsided smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"More than okay, actually." You took his face in your hands as you softly kissed his nose. Jason’s heart swelled as you kissed his nose, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he just basked in the moment, enjoying the feeling of your fingers gently caressing his cheeks.

The early morning light was starting to stream in through the window, casting a soft glow over the room. Jason found himself just staring at you, watching the way your eyes were shining, your messy hair framing your face, your expression relaxed and at ease.

He hoped things wouldn't go back to the way it was before.

🎸 discord server please reblog and comment!

[haeryna]

in my dreams you love me back (i still love you) ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

← previous | ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | next →

summary: soft moments with shoko keep your heart soft as well, but suguru finds something that he wasn't supposed to.

tw: sfw but vague mentions of losing your virginity. your mother MEDDLES but let's be real, we'd do the same. allusions to the bible for the aesthetic but also because i like the imagery of the themes. not proofread.

notes: title taken from red velvet's "in my dreams." the second half of "i would give up heaven if i had to." another short chapter because i split it in two originally! banner from @/cafekitsune

"You look like shit."

You can't stop the huff that escapes your mouth as Shoko peers at you from your phone, propped up against your rice cooker. She's somewhere in the United States right now, attending a medical conference. She isn't wrong; your ten minute break in the bathroom had turned into a full-blown half hour breakdown. Thankfully, none of your coworkers pointed out the redness of your eyes and the sallow tint to your skin. Your manager had practically forced you to go home early. They all assumed that you had broken down about how the Gojo Satoru had demanded you be the one to make his drink. At this point, you were too tired to correct them.

"I just got back from the cafe, leave me alone." Yawning, you reach for a bowl. "I'm starving and exhausted, and now you're going to yell at me, Sho?"

You can hear the heavy exhale, and the camera blurs as she lets out a cloud of cigarette smoke. "I never said that. Did you see them today?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Nobody else can make you cry that hard, and I know it wasn't me."

You hesitate for a moment. "Mom thinks I should hear them out."

"Personally, I would tell them I'll speak to them after a down payment of 5k."

"Shoko!"

But your laughter fills the air, and you can catch Shoko's self-satisfied smirk from the other end. "There she is." A soft haze fills your screen as her voice softens. "Do I need to fly back and tell the two of them to fuck off?"

"I can tell them to leave myself," you protest, but Shoko gives you a deadpan stare. "Okay, well, maybe it'll be hard."

As the silence falls, warm and comfortable, you bustle around the kitchen, spooning rice into your bowl of leftovers. The air is warm, and despite your exhaustion, you can't help but appreciate the dreaminess of the evening. Shoko watches you, dark eyes unreadable. "What?" you finally ask, curiosity lacing your voice.

"Just be careful," she sighs. "Satoru and Suguru will probably do some crazy shit to get you to notice them. I just don't want those idiots to scare you."

"They don't care enough to do that," is your sardonic reply, and this time, it's her turn to laugh.

"If you really think that, then you're blinder than I thought."

He is breaking me down on every side, and now it's too late for me; he has uprooted my hopes like a tree.

When the number of your old landline rings on Suguru's cellphone, he almost blocks it out of habit before he registers the last four digits. Panicking, he immediately accepts the call.

"Hey, is everything okay? I-"

Your mother's voice chirps back at him, a bit staticky from the old phone that he knows she'd insisted on keeping installed in the kitchen. "Suguru, dear, could you do me a favor?"

Ingrained instinct forces a "yes ma'am," from his mouth before he can even process the request. He can practically hear the smile in your mother's voice. "It won't take too long, don't worry. My back has been aching an awful amount after my last surgery, but I've been meaning to wear some of my old church clothes to Bingo Night. Would you mind grabbing it for me?"

The attic is cluttered and old, and the dust stings his eyes, but Suguru can't bring himself to complain as he begins to rummage through boxes. It feels like seeing you again, like being your Suguru again, as he unearths old photo albums, and stuffed toys. There was the rabbit you used to carry around all the time. A picture frame, of you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru one summer afternoon. Carefully, he wipes away the dust, smiling at the memory. You'd lost your front tooth that summer; now, it was forever memorialized.

Finally, he reaches a small collection of boxes in the back. The dress lays draped over a small stack of boxes, but as he grabs it, one topples over, spilling its contents all over the floor.

Suddenly, selfishly, Suguru is grateful that Satoru stayed behind back in their hotel room, because inside the cardboard box is envelopes. At least thousands of them, crammed into each possible corner, dates written on the front in the same handwriting you've had since high school. He tears open another box, only to find the same. Three whole boxes of letters. Selfish hope and heavier dread sinks into his skin like the dust that is slowly falling to the floor; Suguru has unearthed something that he knows he's not supposed to see.

Was this how Adam felt, holding the forbidden fruit in his hand? Which was stronger; the will of God, or the love of man?

"You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.

He's almost frantic as he searches for the first letter, scattering them around himself until he finds it; labelled a week after Suguru had taken Satoru with him to pursue what they had believed to be an impossible dream. Suguru hesitates only for a moment, until with one decisive swipe, he rips the flap from the waxy paper beneath. This one is addressed to him.

Suguru,

My parents put me in therapy. Remember how we always used to joke that if anyone needed it, it would be you? Why did you leave me? What did I do wrong? It hurts, Sugu, why, why, why My therapist thinks that keeping letters will help, and my parents want me to at least give it a try. Mom won't say anything, but I know she's concerned. Dad's already torn into Toru's parents, so the whole town is fully aware of what they've done. Shoko says that they're practically livid with shame, skulking around the town as that'll fix their reputation. You missed it; there was one night when the fireflies came back, and I swear they filled the entire sky. It was beautiful. It reminded me of the first time we met, do you remember that?

I wish you'd been here to see it. I'm sorry, Suguru. I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough to take along. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I love you. I hope you're safe. I hope you're taking care of Toru for me.

I love you so much that it's hard to be mad.

Water drips down onto the ink of where you'd signed your name, and with a start, Suguru realizes he's crying. Gently folding the letter, he sets it aside, and reaches for the next one.

Mom and Dad have what Grandma had. I'm scared, Toru. I wish you were here. You'd always say something silly that would make me forget for even a moment.

Another.

I saw you on the television today, Toru. You're so beautiful it hurts.

Another.

I've given up on properly going to college. They're so sick that I'm terrified to leave them alone.

More. More. More.

I try my best not to listen, but the radio in the coffee shop plays the songs you make, Sugu. I hate it, but it's selfish of me. The girl you sing about, does Toru get along with her? Does she make you happy?

He can't stop himself from reading any more than he can stop the tears pouring down his face. They'd missed so much of your life, and yet you'd dutifully written letter after letter, as if you'd planned on them seeing it. Like you hoped they would come back some day. The next letter was only written two years ago, but it turns Suguru's blood to ice.

I saw the scandal on one of the gossip magazines while I was out shopping for groceries, Toru. The Chanel model? Really? I was kind of hoping for the Gucci one, she seems so nice to her assistant.

I say this like you're a celebrity. A celebrity that I can just laugh at, and say "must be nice, having supermodels fall into your lap!" You were mine, once, long before you were hers. I love loved you.

I did something stupid, last night. Remember Kenji, from high school? The one you always hated? I can't even explain it, how furious I was, when I saw you with that model. You looked so happy, like it didn't matter that all your joy and abundance didn't come at my expense.

I ended up sleeping with him for the first time, with anyone for the first time really. I'm not going to write more; it's embarrassing, and it wasn't even good, but I think I'm more upset with myself. It doesn't matter.

It's not like you'll ever find out. Even if you do, it's not like you'll care.

It's not like my love mattered to you to begin with.

Suguru's chest feels as though someone has washed his heart in acid. On paper, the person you were after they left was more jaded. Less optimistic. You no longer spoke of things you wished they were able to experience with you, but rather all the things they'd left behind. You thought they didn't care, and as he forces his useless lungs to take another breath, he knows that he can't leave this town until he convinces you to come with him. As he stumbles down from the attic, dress in hand, your mother gives him a knowing stare.

"Did you find the dress I asked you to grab?"

"Yes ma'am," Suguru says numbly. It's all he says. It's all he can say. Your mother sighs, patting the chair next to her. "Why don't you call Satoru over, hm? Try some of the tea I bought. I remember your mother saying you only drink black. You really should call her more."

Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?

"I'm home!" you call out, slipping your shoes off with one hand as you balance the full bag of groceries in the other. "Did you take your medi-"

The carrots drop to the floor as you take in the sight of Gojo and Geto sitting at your kitchen table with your mother of all people. "What the fuck?"

Geto's eyes are rimmed red, like he'd been crying, while Satoru stares at you with a hint of anguish. "What the fuck," you repeat again, dumbfounded. "Why are you in my house right now?"

Geto opens his mouth to speak, but your mother waves it away. "You know how bad my back's been lately, I really wanted to wear that old emerald dress your father got me, do you remember?"

Stunned, you can only nod.

"And, I didn't want to have you come all the way back from the city just to grab a dress for me, so I called over Suguru and Satoru to help me out," your mother finishes. You can't stop the panic from leaking into your voice.

"Where was the dress?"

From the look on their faces, you know that Geto and Gojo have found it. All the letters you were too weak to send, too weak to throw away. How much did they read?

"The attic, dear," is your mother's quiet response, and when you turn her attention to her, you can see the quiet love and encouragement in her eyes.

What's more important? The love for all the things they did do, or all the things they didn't?

White noises rushes into your head, and you can barely process your mother's departure. Something about Bingo Night? The door clicks shut and you're left with silence so profound that your body almost instinctively crumples in on itself. Suguru can't look you in the eyes, absentmindedly tracing the rim of the delicate porcelain teacup that looks comically small next to his calloused hands. Satoru merely watches, but you can see the tension in his neck, in the way his fingers flex around empty air.

So, you do the only thing you can do. You run.

Turning, you all but sprint up the stairs. You lied. You couldn't do this, couldn't face them, see them, hear them-

Toned arms reach around from behind, pulling you decisively to a well-defined chest. The air is forced out of your lungs as you yelp, squirming out of the hold, only to freeze as Satoru places his cheek on your head, nuzzling into your hair.

"I missed you."

Tears spring to your eyes but Satoru keeps going. "You were the only thing that kept us going. Our apartment was so shitty, we had to put cardboard on the floor just to keep warm. I thought of you all the time. I thought of which stage outfit you'd like better, how you would get along so well with the other members of the group. We didn't forget you. We love you too much for that."

"Stop," you choke out, as your legs crumple under you. Satoru catches you, tugging you further into him, as tears trickle down your face. A blurred shape; Suguru, kneeling in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.

"One chance, princess," he breathes. "Give us one chance to explain ourselves. After that, we'll do whatever you want, give you whatever you want. We've only ever been yours."

[dystopyx-blog]

more yandere octotrio!

Dedicated to @mr-trick <3 ty for your support

"Your grades have been slipping."

When you had been called into Azul's office, you certainly weren't expecting him to scold you like a parent. To add insult to, well, insult, Jade and Floyd were there, too, and the latter couldn't stop themselves from snickering.

"I wasn't aware that was any of your business." You shot back. You didn't bother asking how he knew–you'd had twin eels trailing you since Azul's overblot. It was rare for you to go anywhere these days without the sight of one looming at you from this distance. If their heights didn't make them obvious enough, there was the eyes. Though you had a feeling stealth wasn't the goal.

You'd be right. The tweels found it very important that you knew they were close by. Azul may have preferred for them to be stealthier, but they enjoyed your reactions too much. Plus, their presence kept others away. It's probably why Azul let them continue.

But back to the scene at hand.

Azul's response comes naturally, almost too naturally–as if he was prepared for that response. "Of course it is. The success of Night Raven students has always been my business–"

The look you hit him with was enough to stop him in his tracks.

He chuckled, adjusting his tie and his approach. "Of course, business has changed in recent times. In the past the goal was to attract as many poor unfortunate souls as I could, offering contracts with the goal to better myself, and not them. But now I've mended my ways and made a switch, so to speak. Now I wish to truly help and better those I come into contact with, starting with those I already feel close or indebted to. And what better first than the one who helped me see the light in the first place."

He waited for your response, but you offered none. Not unless you included your suspicion.

"Look, business has been rough lately since the incident, and helping you seems like the best way to restore people's faith in me."

"And thus the truth comes out."

You were so proud of yourself for sussing him out. What you didn't know is that that wasn't the truth–like at all. He didn't give a fuck what the other students thought of him, especially since he was still getting business regardless. This was about you and spending time with you, the strange, magicless student that had caught his attention like a worm on a hook. Buy to you, that would be even harder to believe than an act of true goodwill.

But that didn't matter anyway, because he had you. You agreed to help him out of the goodness of your heart–taking the opportunity to mock him. It was difficult for Azul to keep the smirk from his face as you fell into his hand. He could tell the twins felt the same way. Even if he couldn't see then standing behind him, he could still tell when Jade's gloved hand went to cover his smile, and when Floyd's slight sway stilled just enough to zero in on you.

With that, a deal had been made: you let Azul help you out of the "goodness of his heart," and you spread the word of Azul's redemption arc.

As soon as you're gone, Azul lets an easy smirk spill onto his face like oil in water.

"We got 'em boys."

What would follow is a series of study sessions, every night, either with Floyd, Jade, or Azul himself. Study session with Floyd rarely involve studying. Sometimes you would start with studying, but he’d always end up getting bored at some point, and then declare you two would be doing something else. Other times, you wouldn’t even get a chance to study, as he’d already be dragging you off somewhere before you can even set your stuff down. Floyd, being Floyd, ‘something else’ could include anything depending on his mood. Some examples of activities you’ve done during study sessions with Floyd: karaoke, ping pong, pottery, a treasure hunt all over the school for something Floyd lost a while ago and had suddenly remembered at that moment (it was in his pocket), ballroom dance classes, shopping, video games, baking. You don’t even bring any study materials with you at this point.

Jade and Azul are more what you’d expect from tutors.

Jade’s method of tutoring is hands off. He mostly just has you do your homework while he sits across from you, working on his own stuff. And if you don’t have homework or finish before study time is up, he’ll give you readings and practice assignments to do. He encourages you to ask him questions whenever you have them, but for the most part, you two are silent. What you don’t realize is that he actually spends most of the time just staring at you. Studying you.

Azul is more hands on. Like with Jade, youre expected to either work on a class assignment, or one of Azul’s specially crafted study guides. Unlike Jade, who always sits across from you, Azul sits—or, more often, stands—next to you. Instead of just silently watching you work, Azul works you through each problem. He’ll often end up hovering next to you, sometimes taking your writing hand in his to guide you through whatever problem you’re working on. He also offers coffee/tea/snack breaks, where you two can just talk, not just about schoolwork, but anything else.

You’re spending every night with one of them. You often get back to Ramshackle late (especially if it was a session with Floyd). You don’t see Horns as much, if at all. Study sessions with your freshman friends become almost nonexistent. Even Grim is starting to see less and less of you everyday.

Who you end up spending the most time with is, of course, the Octotrio. Not just for nightly study sessions anymore. Floyd will approach you outside of tutoring for fun activities. Jade often offers you treats for doing so well, including trips to Sam’s and lunch at Mostró Lounge—all on him, of course. And Azul often pops in to check in on you—to make sure you’re holding up your side of the deal. And, even if you don’t realize it, there’s always at least one of them waiting to walk you to class.

It’s no secret that Azul basically always has business on the brain. And this? This was his strategic move to monopolize you, and he got you hook, line, and sinker.

[chem1cali]

POLAROIDS

masterlist

18+ MINORS DNI

theodore nott x fem!reader

synopsis: you've never been particularly confident in yourself, which is why you decide to take some flattering polaroids of your body. but what happens when they end up in the wrong hands?

warnings: SMUT, slight dubcon, p in v sex, masturbation (m receiving), jacking off over photos, body worship, oral (f receiving), breeding kink kinda, theo is a desperate little slut, reader is a perv (theo is also kind of a perv)

wordcount: 3.9k

a/n: this is the first time i've written smut in like two years, so i hope this does me justice as i try and get back into the swing of things again!

"Shit, shit, shit!" You curse, rifling through your drawers. "They're gone. They're gone, Pans!"

Pansy walks up beside you, staring into your drawer of clothes with confusion. "What's gone, exactly? All you told me was that you did something special."

You tip your head back, staring at the ceiling.

"The polaroids." You groan. "Where the fuck are they?"

"You took polaroids?" Pansy asks, her voice seeming intrigued now. "What of?"

"Me." You say, spinning to face her. "Me with... not a whole lot of clothes on."

Pansy's mouth pops open, shock and delight colouring her features. "Oh my god. You naughty thing!"

You purse your lips at her. "Thank you, but not the point right now. They're missing, which means someone has them, or I've lost them and someone will find them, or-"

"Woah, woah." Pansy's hands come up to grasp your shoulders. "Relax, okay? We'll figure out where they are. There's every chance you've misplaced them somewhere in here, which means if someone does find them, it'll only be one of us girls. We're the only ones that come in here."

The blood drains from your face. "And Theo."

Pansy cocks her head. "What?"

You swallow harshly. "Theo comes in here to hang out with me sometimes. What if he sees them?"

Pansy raises an eyebrow. "Trust me, I don't think he'd be complaining."

You squint at her. "What's that supposed to- nevermind. Not the point. The point is, they're in here somewhere, and we have to find them before someone else does."

Pansy rolls her eyes. "Fine, we can talk about Theo's burning love for you later."

Your cheeks flame. Burning love? "I don't know what you're talking about, he's my best friend."

"First of all," Pansy scowls. "I'm offended that I'm not your best friend. Second of all, if you think that man is just friends with you, you're delusional."

You frown back at her, choosing to ignore her words entirely and resume hunting for the elusive pieces of film. You tear through the piles of clothes while Pansy rifles through your desk and piles of parchment.

"Why did you take polaroids of yourself like that anyway?" She asks, some time later while you're still searching. "Who are they for?"

You look over at her from your cross legged position on the floor. You were on your final drawer in your tall-boy, with still no sign of the pictures.

"For myself." You mumble. "You know I've had... issues with my confidence. I thought this might help."

Pansy nods, no hint of judgement on her face. "Makes sense, I buy myself fancy lingerie for the same reason. Makes me feel beautiful and powerful."

You exhale softly, relieved at the understanding that has passed between the two of you. "That's what the polaroids did for me. Made me feel pretty."

She nods. "I should hope so, you are pretty."

Your cheeks glow at the compliment and you duck your head.

"Thanks." You mutter.

A few minutes later, Pansy groans. "I don't think we're going to find them."

Panic bubbles in your chest.

"We have to find them." You gasp. "They can't- they can't have gone missing. If anyone sees them- god, I'll be a fucking laughing stock, Pans!"

Pansy is up out of her chair and crouching beside you in seconds.

"Hey." Her hands find their way to your shoulders. "Breathe, Y/N. We'll figure it out. No one has been in this room since you took them, right? Which means they're still here somewhere. We'll find them, we can just take a break for a bit, though. Okay?"

You force your lungs to expand and contract at a normal pace, waiting for your heart to stop racing. Still slightly panicky and trembling, you look at Pansy and give her a weak smile in thanks.

She smooths a hand over your hair. "Why don't you go and find Theo? Take your mind off things for a bit."

That sounded like a good idea, but the devious wink Pansy gave you made it clear exactly what taking your mind off things meant in her eyes.

"Hilarious." You mutter. "I will go and see Theo, though. And not for the reasons you're implying."

Pansy rolls her eyes. "One day, the two of you will just fuck and I'll be able to say I told you so."

You make a face, and stand up, dragging her to the door with you. "Okay, that's enough of you. I'm leaving, so are you. I'll see you at supper, yeah?"

Pansy giggles as she's pushed out of your dorm. "Yeah, I'll see you at dinner, but I imagine you'll be too full to want to eat anything."

"Pansy!" You yell, as she flits down the corridor away from you, still laughing. Sighing, you drag a hand down your face and head in the opposite direction towards Theo's dorm.

Once there, you lift your hand to knock, but a muffled groan stops you. You pause, and listen. There it is again, a soft groan coupled with the wet sounds of moving skin.

You scrunch your nose. You were no stranger to Theo's popularity with the female population at Hogwarts, but you'd never actually stumbled on the evidence of said popularity. You shake your head in exasperation and turn to leave when a quiet pant of your name sounds from behind the door.

You freeze, staring in disbelief at the door, wondering if maybe you'd heard wrong or-

Nope. There it was again. Your own name, said with Theo's unmistakeable voice. Was he...?

No. There was no way. The best thing to do right now, would be to walk away, or to at least knock and give him time to sort himself out before answering the door.

But as your hand inches towards the door handle, a small twisted part of you decides that you want to catch him unawares.

Before you can think too hard about it, you crack the door open slightly, thankful for Theo's tendency to keep it unlocked and the hinges oiled.

His dorm room is quite dark, lit only by a single candle on his bedside, so it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the gloom.

When they do, however, the sight has your body freezing and your lips parting in shock and... something else you weren't brave enough to name.

Theo is propped up on his pillows, the soft candlelight brushing his bare skin with a golden hue, highlighting the sheen of sweat covering him. His face is tense, eyes shut and mouth slightly agape, head tilted back just enough to show the pale expanse of his throat. His chest is bare, abdominal muscles flexing as his hand...

You press further against the crack in the door, your eyes wide. Theo's hand grips his cock, tugging at the length with furious haste, his hips lifting to meet each pull as his other hand grips his bedsheets tightly, veins popping out along his forearm from the strain.

You can't see much, due to your unorthodox vantage point and the dim light of the candle, but you can see enough to know that he is... sizeable.

As in, how the fuck is that supposed to fit anywhere, sizeable.

Your eyes trail lower down, until they catch on a glint of laminated paper resting on his bare thighs, just above where his pants are bunched halfway down his legs.

Your blood runs cold. Oh god, were those...?

In an effort to see better, you push closer, widening the gap of the door. What you don't account for, however, is Theo's innate messiness. His broom must have been leaning against the door, and it is sent clattering to the floor as the door opens wider.

Theo jolts upright, his eyes flying open as he grabs his wand and casts a hasty Lumos, illuminating his room, and himself, in a much brighter light than before.

And, unfortunately, illuminating you standing in his doorway.

"Y/N?" He asks breathlessly, his chest heaving and cheeks flushed with leftover exertion. He hasn't covered himself, and the light from his wand reveals more of his skin to you, including the flushed and stiff weight of his cock as it bobs against his stomach.

Theo notices the object of your attention and flushes deeper, scrambling to cover himself while muttering embarrassed apologies. In his haste, Theo knocks the pictures to the ground, and with the new light from his wand, you can see your familiar, half naked form decorating the polaroids.

Theo falls silent, staring helplessly at the fallen pictures as his mouth opens and shuts with no words coming out.

"I..." He begins finally. "Look, I can explain-"

"Were you touching yourself over photos of me?" You cut him off, incredulously, looking back up at him. Your brow furrows. "How did you even get a hold of them, they were in my dorm?"

Theo shifts uncomfortably, hands cupped over his still obvious erection. "I uh... went to look for you earlier. I went to your dorm and... they were just there. On your bed. I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry, god I'm so sorry."

Your cheeks heat. He'd just seen them? Taken them? Your cheeks burned brighter. Thought they were good enough to touch himself over? A heat of a different kind erupted low in your stomach, but you berated yourself. This wasn't a smut scene in one of your books, this was real life, and it was weird, and creepy, and-

"It's fine." You breathe instead, despite your warring thoughts. Your body's reaction was winning this battle, tingles erupting along your spine and your toes curling in your shoes.

Theo blinked. "What...?"

You laughed awkwardly. "I mean, it's weird, don't get me wrong, but I also just spent the last few minutes spying on you so it's not exactly any weirder than that."

Theo choked, staring up at you with wide eyes. "You what? You were watching me?"

You glanced between him and his various possessions as you struggled to find your words. "I mean, yes? It's makes us both even, I suppose. You were weird enough to steal lewd photos of me to wank over, I was weird enough to stand here and watch you, enjoy watching you. It makes us both even and we never have to speak about it again, right?"

Theo goes to open his mouth to reply, but a choked moan escapes his lips instead. You glance back down at his lap, finding his hand wrapped back around his cock, his thumb flicking over the flushed and sensitive tip.

"You enjoyed watching me?" He rasps, his eyes focused on you, wand forgotten but still glowing beside him on the bed.

You stand there, transfixed at the sight before you, before nodding slowly.

"Yeah." You breathe. "I enjoyed it."

Glancing back up at his face, you see his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and his eyes flare with heat. So much heat.

"Are you still enjoying it?" He asks quietly, leaning back on his other hand so that the expanse of his torso and throbbing length was in clear view for you to see. The rhythmic movements of his hand stroking himself back and forth was hypnotising to you, and you almost forget his question until you catch his lips curl into a self-satisfied smirk at your blatant ogling.

"I'll take that as a yes." He murmurs, clenching his fist tighter and exhaling sharply.

"This... this isn't right, Theo." You breathe, but your traitorous body is trembling with anticipation.

"It's just me, tesoro." He says softly. "Just you and me. Come in to the room properly, close the door."

You body acts without hesitation, following his gentle instruction. You step further into his dormroom, shutting the door behind you and leaning against the cool wood.

"I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw those pictures lying on your bed." Theo continues to speak, his Italian accent rolling over the syllables with an unfairly seductive purr. "How many months I've longed to see you without your robes and sweaters and skirts, and it was like my wishes had been granted to me."

Heat prickles over your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You're silent, but so attentive to his words of praise. You'd felt confident and proud of yourself taking the photos, but it was nothing compared to seeing your best friend push himself to the brink of ecstasy over them.

"And it was better than anything I could have imagined." Theo's gentle voice is interspersed with soft grunts and pants as his hand movements grow harsher. "But I can't help but imagine if the real thing could be even better."

You blink in surprise. "You mean...?."

"Yeah." He pants. "Wanna see you, baby."

Your spine locks as pleasure tingles straight to your core. Before you can overthink it, you're shrugging off your school robes, already setting on unbuttoning your blouse beneath. Theo just stares at you, eyes locked on your hands as they bare more and more skin to his view. His breath hitches as you finally remove your shirt and set to removing your skirt, shoes and socks.

When you're finally left in just your underthings, he glances between you and the polaroids on the floor. "You... you're wearing the same..."

You nod shyly, fighting the urge to cover yourself with your hands. "I only took them earlier this morning."

Theo's eyes connect with yours, and you're stunned by the turbulent emotions swirling through them. There's lust, of course, but also a little left over fear and embarrassment, as well as something softer... warmer, that you can't quite name.

"Come closer." He whispers. "Please."

You do as he says, coming closer until his free hand reaches up to wrap around the back of one of your thighs, pulling you closer.

"So soft." He breathes, glancing up at you from his seated position. His hand skates up the side of your leg, cupping and squeezing your ass briefly before trailing over your hip and up the side of your ribs. "So beautiful."

His hand rests finally on the underside of your breast, fingers twitching with the urge to grope and grab at your body. "Please let me touch."

You nod, and he groans. "Words, tesoro. I need your words."

"Yes. Yes, Theo, you can touch me."

Shocking you entirely, he releases his cock and grips your waist with both hands, laying you flat on your back on the bed. He settles his weight on top of you, his mouth sealing itself to the sensitive skin at the crook of your neck. You gasp as he sucks and bites along the skin, writhing under the warm, solid weight of him. He bucks his hips against yours, the velvety hardness of his cock brushing against your sex over the lace of your panties.

An embarrassing mewl escapes your lips as your legs tighten around his waist, and he does it again, harder this time.

"Can I taste you?" He whispers against your neck. "I've been dreaming of this for so long, love. You've gotta let me taste you. Let me make you feel good - I promise it'll feel good."

You're nodding while you still have this wave of confidence motivating you, and make a noise of disappointment as he raises himself off you. Your disappointment doesn't last for long, however, before he's situating himself between your legs and staring at the apex of your thighs like a starving man faced with his first meal in months.

He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, looking up at you through his lashes. His mouth slides higher, and you can feel his lips twist into a grin against your skin as your breath quickens and your body shifts with impatience.

Finally, he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your clothed cunt, letting out a soft groan as his tongue laves over the lace of your underwear. His fingers hook into the fabric and he moves his mouth just long enough to tug them down and over your hips before his lips are back on you.

Your back arches and you let out a startled moan at the bare contact. Theo wastes no time, diving into you like a man possessed. The first lick of his tongue across your slit has you gasping, and your hand flies down to tangle in his brunette curls. He sets himself on you with even more intensity, trading between suckling at your clit, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs, and plunging his tongue straight into your entrance, licking up every drop of your arousal. Every movement makes the tension in your stomach coil tighter and tighter until you're not sure you can handle anymore.

"Theo." You gasp out. "I can't- I'm not sure if I can-"

"Shhh." He croons against your skin. "Let it go, baby. I've got you."

He sucks harder on your clit, pairing it with a sharp nip that has you crying out his name, and the tension in your body snaps like an elastic band. Pleasure zaps through you, electrifying every nerve under your skin and making your vision blur. You're vaguely aware of Theo licking you through the aftershocks, lapping up the evidence of your orgasm as he rocks his hips against the mattress, whimpering softly.

When you begin to push his head away once the oversensitivity kicks in, he pulls away, his face wet from you; lips swollen and pupils dilated. He crawls up your body, pressing his lips to yours. You gasp as you taste yourself on his tongue, pulling him closer with a hand on the back of his neck as you yearn for more.

"How was that, tesoro?" He pants out. "Did I make you feel good?"

You nod frantically.

"More." You gasp. "I want more."

"More?" He punctuates his words with a harsh grind of his erection against your core. "You sure you can handle more?"

You nod frantically. "I can do it. I wanna do it."

He dives back in for another kiss, tangling his tongue with yours as he reaches down you free his cock fully from his pants. He moans softly into your mouth as the tip of his cock presses against your clit, and you shudder against him. He guides himself to your entrance, pulling back to look you in the eye.

"Gonna fill you up, yeah? Make you feel so good, baby. Split you apart on my cock. You want that, yeah?"

You arch further into him, raising one of your legs to wrap around his hip, opening yourself further to him.

His eyes roll back as he begins to press into you, stuttered groans escaping his lips as he pushes further, inch by inch of him being enveloped by your tight heat. You wince at the uncomfortable stretch, but lock your other leg around his hip as well, drawing him closer to you and forcing him to bottom out inside you.

"Need a second." He chokes out. "God, you're so tight. So hot and wet and perfect."

You moan your approval, giving yourself a second to adjust to his size. He's larger than anyone you've ever taken before. While he also adjusts, he reaches a hand behind your back to unclasp your bra, peeling the fabric from your body.

His eyes lock on to your chest, before he dips down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. You gasp, your body tensing with pleasure. He moans against your chest, a deep, masculine sound that has your cunt tightening around him. He switches his attention between your breasts, lavishing sucks and nips equally across both, sucking the skin so hard that you know you'll wake up with purplish marks tomorrow.

Finally, after what seems to be an eternity, Theo begins to shift his hips, and the friction send bolts of heat racing through you. He eases you into it with shallow, gentle thrusts, but it isn't long before he's reaching the edge of his control, and his hips beginning to slap against yours, your tits bouncing with the force of his movements.

He lifts his gaze to yours, watching you with parted lips.

"So gorgeous, tesoro." He murmurs. "I wish I could stay inside this pussy forever, it's like you were made for my cock."

You hum your agreement, lifting your hips slightly to meet his thrusts, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan as the new angle allows him to reach deeper, more sensitive spots inside you.

"Gonna come, Theo." You gasp out, barely able to stop your eyes from rolling into the back of your head.

"Me too, love. Can I come inside you? Pump you full?" He asks, his tone almost begging as his movements lose their steady rhythm and instead slam into you with reckless abandon.

"Yeah." You whimper. "Need you to stay inside me, please."

Theo buries his head in your neck, shuddering as his body tenses and his hips stutter. Sudden warmth coats your insides, and the sheer foreignness of the feeling catapults you straight to your second orgasm, your body shaking as it forces you through your pleasure. You squirm under Theo as he fights to keep moving, just to help work you through your climax, but before long his arms give out and he slumps on top of you, his softening cock still deep inside of you.

You allow him a moment of rest before you're pushing at his shoulders.

"Can't... breathe." You choke out, fighting to inhale against the weight of him on your chest.

Theo groans and shifts to collapse next to you, his head still resting on your sweat-slicked chest and an arm wrapped around your waist.

You stare up at the ceiling, your mind going a million miles an hour as you wince at the sudden empty feeling. Your heart is racing, and no longer just with the aftershocks of the frankly mind-blowing sex. You had just crossed a line in your friendship. A major one. One you couldn't come back from.

"Relax." Theo murmurs sleepily from beside you. "I can practically feel you overthinking."

You're silent for a moment, before speaking. "What does this mean, Theo? For us?"

He ponders your question, lifting off your chest to prop his head on his hand as he lies on his side, facing you.

"I don't know." He says honestly. "But I really liked what we just did. And I really like you, so we will work it out."

You blink at him. "You like me?"

He rolls his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Of course I like you, idiot. Have done for years."

You're speechless for a while, coming into terms with this new information. "Well."

Theo laughs, a rich, affectionate sound that tugs at your heart.

"We'll figure something out, tesoro, don't stress. For now, I'm exhausted, and your tits are the perfect pillow. We'll talk about it later, okay?"

You sigh out a soft laugh, and nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he settles back on top of you.

And later, when Pansy gives you a knowing look as you walk into the great hall together, Theo's arm wrapped securely around your waist, all you do is smile.

She did in fact tell you so.

[unluckilyimnot]

Hii!! Hope you're doing well, i just discovered you and im OBSESSED with your posts. Idk if you saw the chapter 260 leaks yet, so if you dont wanna get spoiled, please read this request after reading the new chapter. I wanted to request some headcanons for ness, kaiser, reo and bachira where they are dating the reader and the readers parents basically sees them as their son (my parents are just like that for my older sisters boyfriend and they call him their son. Even invite him over for vacations and family dinners everytime. I think its really cute🥹💕) I was thinking of this request especially for kaiser after seeing his backstory. Feel free to ignore if you want to. Also thank you for your posts i LOVE the way you write💕

S/o with a welcoming family - Reo, Kaiser, Bachira, Ness

m.list | rules

Note : hi thank you for your request! You're so sweet thank you dear ♡ You don't know but that's a sensible point for myself and the day you send this I spend the night crying about my shitty parents

Kaiser

He's shocked the first time he meets your parents

He's not the type to feel comfortable around parental figure for obvious reasons

Your parents welcoming him like he belongs here touch him in a way he can't explain

He's invited more and more, your mom rely on him when she needs help and so does your dad, it's all new to him

If you have a rather intimate and physical touch is a norm, he's probably shocked at first

It has nothing to do with you and the way you touch him, yet he feels like crying the first time your mother hugged him

He's probably less cocky since he doesn't feel the need to do so around them

It just became a safe place, just after you

Ness

With you and how you talk about your parents, he already thinks that he can get along with them

But when your mom mentions how she loves books/movies he can't help but talk about what he likes as well !

He would probably be closer to her in that sense but he does his best for your dad to like him as well

He likes to help around so he's accepted really soon

If you have younger siblings he LOVES to spend time with them !!

It's endearing and you know how bad he needs it

Bachira

He'll bring so much joy to your parents

Particularly if your an only child

Seeing you with someone so childish will probably heal sometignf in them, you seem so happy and joyful

Bachrira would feel weird at first to be treated like you are but will comes to love it

He loves your parents a lot

To the point where he'll even celebrate his birthday with your family once in a while

He's never been welcome somewhere like this, it will heal something inside of him as well for sure

Reo

He's always welcome with hugs or your father's gently patting his back

He learn what it is to be listened to

He's used to speak without people listening to him so the first time your parents answer and go on the same conversation as him, he'll feel seen

His jaw clenched but a genuine smile will form on his lips

They're just like you are, warm and welcoming

Your dad LOVES him so much

They can talk together for hours and you love to see him this comfortable around your family

If you have siblings, they love him I just know it they told me

You can tell how radiant he is and it makes you glad you introduced him

He's always welcome with hugs or your father's gently patting his back

[onelittlespiral]

You should definitely do a preppy boy tf!

FML: Contact

I knew I should have charged my phone before I left, but I was running late and didn’t want to miss my study session. I know, I know it was stupid. But the walk was only supposed to be a few blocks. I have no idea how I got this lost. It felt like I was wandering for hours, but I kept just going around in circles and ending up in front of this gym. Great, just what I needed before finals week. Maybe I should stop an- ugh. My bag spilled out in front of me as I wa a knocked to the ground.

“Hey, sorry bro.”

It seems like on about my third time around the block I finally ran into one of the gym’s patrons, idiot. For the life of me I will never know how those guys will walk out in shorts in December. I started to scoop my belongings back into my bag.

“Here, let me help- Ah fuck, that could be bad.” He picked up my laptop and handed it to me. Thankfully it seems that there wasn’t any real damage, but a few deep scratches were carved in the metal and the screen was definitely cracked.

“Just what I needed today! Look where you’re going next time!” I was nearly in tears. I was lost, I was frustrated, I think the fall tore a hole in my khakis, and now my computer would be busted till after finals.

“Hey, I said I was sorry. Didn’t mean to knock a shrimp like you down. I didn’t even hit you that hard…”

“Well sue me if I don’t have time to get swoll bro,” I spat, “but some of us have finals to study for.”

“Oh dang, that’s where I know you from! English 110, with Professor Kim. Yeah, you’re always in the front and answering shit.” Immediately the puzzle pieces clicked. I can’t blame myself for not recognizing him. He must have been one of the dudes who sat in the back, and they all basically acted, talked, and looked about the same. A bunch of gym rats struggling through the gen eds. I’m genuinely surprised he can to class often enough to recognize me. “Hey man, are you studying for this final later? I’m just like not getting this stuff. Like, why are they having Exercise Science majors out here studying English anyways?”

“Uhh, yeah maybe.” At this point I was past the point of caring about this conversation. It was such a simple class I hardly had even glanced over the study guide. I had packed my things and was making to get up and leave.

“Here bruh, lemme help you up,” and he extended his hand to me. I grabbed hold as a small shock passed between us. It was just a split second, but as his calloused, sweaty had grasped mine, I felt a jolt that stuck my hair on end. I hardly had time to notice as he hoisted me up. “Hey, if you do end up reviewing later, maybe give me a heads up. We could do a study session or something.” He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of a receipt. Grabbing my hand again, and pulled me into a bro hug before I could protest. Up close he was warm and humid, sweat cooling in the cold winter air. He left the paper in my hand when he pulled away. He smirked, “You should ask inside, they may be able to help. I’ll see you later tonight.” There was a confidence in his voice that sent a chill down my spine. Before I knew it he had booked it, and I was left with a piece of paper, a broken computer, and a sinking realization I was still lost.

With few options left, I popped into the gym my classmate had just come out of. Maybe they would have a charger I could borrow or be able to help me with directions. At least it was warm inside. I walked over to the man at the desk, asking “Hey, sorry to bother. Do you all have a phone charger? I am completely lost and out of juice.”

“You can bother me any time,” the attendant said with a wink, “We’ve got some chargers in the locker room, but management is struck about people using facilities without paying. You already a member with us?”

“No, do I look like a member with you all? Please, I’m tired and at this point I just need to get home.” I groaned.

“Well sorry bro, you’ve gotta get those gains somewhere… let’s see, a day pass only runs about $5,” he slid the card reader to me.

“Fine.” I thrust my card into the machine and grabbed my receipt, storming off towards the locker room.”

“Enjoy your time! Oh, sir. Those aren’t the locker rooms they are the changing ro-” and the swinging door cut him off. I cut to the first door on my left. The overhead lights activated as I walked in. The inside was warm, hotter even than the lobby. For locker rooms, there were very few lockers. Just cooler with some sports drinks, some mirrors, and a charging station. No one else was inside, so I sat down on a bench and set my phone down on the charging station. With the heat I quickly began stripping layers, till I was down to my sweater, but I was not going shirtless in this place. It looked like it would be a while before my phone would be charged. I tried to put the whole situation out of my mind as I laid back and relaxed, carried to sleep in the thick heat…

I woke up a while later, disoriented and thirsty. It may have been a bad idea to sleep in the sweater, the thing was practically dripping in sweat now. I began to pull off the damp thing when I was shocked to see what was underneath:

Abs. Pecs. Abs and pecs. I had to be dreaming, when did I go from a stick to having abs and pecs. Not only that, but my arms. Thick and smooth, my arms looked swollen, as though I had been working them out for years. And my legs, they felt like lead beneath me, so heavy I could hardly move them. I could crush a melon between my thighs. And my poor shoes, they were practically in tatters on the floor. My toes poked out of the remains, leather torn between my meaty soles. I looked in the mirror to get a full picture. If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t have believed it, I was a whole different man.

I grabbed my phone and booked it out the door back to the front desk. The same attendant was there, looking me up and down as I passed by:

“Well hey there handsome. How are you enjoying our amenities?”

I just about strangled him, “What the hell happened? What did you all do to me?!?”

“I did try to tell you. Locker rooms are the other side. Those are the changing rooms.”

“What’s that supposed mean?”

“Well, look at yourself. Must have gone for the muscle enhancement, eh? Not a bad look on you.” I could just about wipe that smug look off his face.

“Cut the bull crap, I didn’t ask for this. If you all changed me into this change me back.”

“So sorry,” the apology dripped from his lips, “but things don’t quite work that way. For more specialized changes you have to get a full membership.”

“That’s a fucking lie,” I shouted, “You never said shit about this. I don’t need your membership. Change me back, now.”

“Woah, calm down there hot stuff, no need to get so worked up. How about this. My boss is home for the night. I know what you looked like when you came in. I can sneak you back into one of our specialty changing rooms, and I’ll calibrate it myself. Deal?”

I was about in tears, “Deal.”

He took my hand and lead me to the changing room all the way in the back. Same set up, same bench in a mostly barren room. This one was maybe a tad smaller. His voice came on over the intercom:

“Alright, now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

This time, deep red lights came on and that same heat began to fill the room. It somehow felt a bit different. The other heat wrapped around, this one felt like it pierced. In moments my body was flooded with warmth. Sweat rolled down my body as the room began having its effects. But something wasn’t right. Instead of shrinking down to my lithe self, my body felt like it was bubbling, and began to swell even more.

“Hey. HEY! What the hell! What are you doing out there? Wrong way asshole!”

He chuckled into the intercom, “What? I think it’s a good look on you.”

“You’re supposed to change me back!” I shouted

“I said I would calibrate the room. I didn’t say how. You should feel lucky, you’re getting the VIP treatment for free!”

Everywhere sweat rolled my muscles stretched as my body began writhing under the feeling of its growth. It felt… it felt… oh god it felt… so…good. But it had to be stopped. I couldn’t keep going like this. I put all my effort into standing up and lunged for the door handle. It didn’t budge, locked from the outside.

“Oh, is this not to your taste?” he teased “Well, I already did smooth jock tonight. Fine, let’s try this then.”

The red lights switched off as dull LED’s took their place. At the same time, a mist began pouring into the room. The smell made me dizzy as I slumped back on the bench behind me. The haze curled around me and stuck to my skin. It smelled like aftershave, sharp and fresh, with a coolness that made me shiver. My skin began to tingle wherever it touched. I watched as my skin turned to goosebumps, then slowly a fine layer of fuzz began to coat my pecs. It grew and curled wherever the mist lead it. It blazed a treasure trail down my abs and branched out to cover them. I could only moan as my body pushed out my new pelt. It curled around my back as a forest erupted behind me. Working it’s way up, I felt a tickle on my jaw and cheeks. It caressed my face as a five o-clock shadow pushed out from my smooth face, and in moments a full beard was pushed out. It’s curling tendrils even worked on the hair I already had. I felt the hair on top of my head stand on end before following the mist into a thick mop. It worked it’s way into my gapping mouth too, and I felt my throat stretch and adjust, my moans coming out much deeper. Then it concentrated on my groin and pits. My previously trimmed bushes grew wild, quickly becoming a tangle. As my pubes grew around, it felt soooo good. I began getting hard, but the mist only took that as an opportunity. Something else to grow and curve. It stretched 6, 7, 8, 9 inches straight out before curving distinctly up. I was in pure ecstasy, with only the thought of the man outside watching keeping me from fully jacking off.

“Wow, what a grower. I knew you had potential but, woof.”

“You… won’t… *gasp*…get away… with… with this!”

“Oh, still a little rebel in you? Maybe we can bring that out a bit.”

The mist receded, and overhead the lights began to strobe and a loud white noise began to play. The pattern was disorientating and it hurt to watch. But even when I closed my eyes I couldn’t escape. A splitting headache developed as my emotions all turned to anger. I tried to shout, to call for it to stop, but my words didn’t even reach my ears. I watched in glimpses as I began to scream, deep and primal, rage in my eyes. My arm clenched into a fist and I ran up to pound the door down. It still didn’t budge but the shock sent a ripple down my arm. In the mirror I watched as in slow motion a full sleeve tattoo stretched down my arm. I sat down in pain and fear and anger as I grew close to tears. But the back of my mind knew that I could not cry, not anymore. Then, all at once it stopped. I realized I was still shouting. I felt pissed off, aggressive. When I got out of this room, I was gonna pummel that twink into submission.

“God, that one always gets me. I love a man with tattoos.”

“Fuck OFF” I growled. I looked in the mirror at the monster I had become:

My mind was being flooded with emotions, a sense of loss for the person I was, a rage at the man who had done this to me, an animalistic horniness from my sizable new cock, and a deep terror for what else could happen. I channeled that fury and made one last attempt on the locked door. I yanked and rattled the door with all the strength this new body could muster. I felt the handle flex beneath my grip, before a loud *snap* sent me plummeting to the ground. The handle had come off the door. I banging against the door, shouting for anyone to come help me.

“Hmmm,” the attendant contemplated, “I may have gone too far with the rage this time. You’re a beast bro, but let’s reign it in. A healthy dose of this should help.”

A new cloud filled the room, this one thicker than the last. It was damp and sticky and clung to every inch of me. This one smelled rich and acrid, like an arm pit that had long since sweat through any deodorant. It was as though every patron of the gym had joined me in the room fresh from their workout. The fog was so thick I felt as though I was beginning to choke. It slid heavily down my throat and made my eyes water. That’s when I felt it begin to corrupt me. My enraged mind became calm, then addled as my brain filled with the all consuming fog. Memories flashed before my eyes as I felt them slip from my mind, replaced with false copies. I felt my college experience shift from books and classes to working out and tutoring sessions. My classes in journalism and writing were swapped for work out routines and remedial math. Then my cock began twitching as memories of hot workout sessions with my bros filled my mind, replacing my book club. As my mind relaxed and the new memories came to me easier and easier. My IQ was slipping down quickly, resting now somewhere around 75. As my mind relaxed I felt my body do so too. The cloud began seeping into my pores, filling me with its corrupting influence. My body betrayed me, greedily sucking up the cloud until the room was completely clear. I felt warm and tingly, my body pressed flat against the cold floor. I lifted my arm to get a good wiff of my funk. My cock jumped in response. God I needed to fuck. The cloud had saturated me, inside and out, soaking me in a new identity.

“How are you feeling in there big guy?” a voice was on the other side of a speaker in the room.

“Aight I guess man. I’m tired. Guess I passed out in here,” I replied. God, just waking up from a nap and I had my morning wood. The door opened, a cute bro was on the other side.

“Have you enjoyed your day pass sir?” He asked.

“Hell yeah Lil’ bro, it’s been good. This gym is stacked. I haven’t felt this worn out after a workout in a while!”

“Have you considered upgrading that day pass to a full membership? I know I would love to see you around,” he said with a wink.

“Mmm, wouldn’t mind seeing you every day. Gimme the forms.” He led me out to the lobby, I signed a few forms, and handed me a card.

“Now remember next time, locker rooms are over there,” he smirked. “Here, this is free with your sign up.”

He threw a tank top over to me. Good thing too, I think I forgot mine at home. It fit snugly over my huge chest. It made my arms look huge too. Just a shame I sweat so much after a workout, I already had some pit stains going. Shit, I was rank.

“Thanks bro, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I strolled out the door into the cold winter air. I flexed, feeling the breeze wick some of my sweat away.

“Hey, excuse me?” Some dork walked up to me, looking desperate. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, though I couldn’t place it. “Would you happen to be able to help me? I have been going around in circles and can’t seem to find my way. I have an exam in just a few hours.”

“Nah, sorry man. I’m not quite sure I’m able to help. Never been good with directions huhu,” that’s when it clicked, “Hey, you’re in my bio class aren’t you? Ah shit, is that exam today?!? Fuck, I’m never gonna pass that crap.”

He looked a little flabbergasted, but made some excuses and was about to move on when I grabbed him. I felt something pass between us, as his gaze fell onto me, unblinking, “You should check in the gym bro, I know they can help you out.” I pulled away and the moment passed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two receipts. The first was my receipt for my day pass. I scribbled down my contact info, and handed it off to the nerd. “Here, if you want to talk about lifting with me and my buds later you should give me a call. Looking a little scrawny bruh.”

He took the receipt before wandering towards the gym entrance. I then looked at the second paper I pulled out. Oh yeah, it was that hot gym bro from earlier. Yeah, I could meet up with him for sure. His name at the top rang a faint bell. For a split second, I remembered a friend I would sit next to in class. Smart, nerdy, nothing like the man I had met on the sidewalk earlier... But just then I felt my brain pounding, and I couldn’t focus on… whatever it was I was thinking about. Oh, right. Hot jock. Yeahhh, I’m gonna go see if he wants these rank pits shoved in his face while I ride his cock.

————

Maybe not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy anyways ❤️

[meo-eiru]

The house is quiet—almost too quiet—except for the gentle hum of the ceiling fan above me. I sit by the window, watching the sun set behind the hills. It's beautiful, peaceful even…

Micah is out in the yard, tending to the garden. He loves that garden. It reminded me the first time I had met him, back when I was still a novitiate, he told me it was important to grow things, to nurture life. I wonder sometimes if that’s what he thinks he's doing with me. Nurturing me. But plants don't have a choice where they grow, do they? They’re just put somewhere, and they either thrive or wither.

When he moved us to this town, he said it was for us. For our new family. He said it was to keep us safe, to give us a fresh start. I wanted to believe him. I tried to believe him. I think I even did, for a while. I used to tell myself that this was God’s plan, that this was my path, even if it wasn't the one I had chosen. Maybe it still is. But God seems distant now, like He stayed behind when we left.

I run a hand over my stomach, feeling the faint fluttering of life inside me.

Our child.

The house was large, larger than necessary for the two of us— three, once the baby is born. There were rooms I hadn’t stepped into for days. Micah had insisted that I rest, that I focus on the baby. Don’t tire yourself, dear, he would say, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

I had tried, in the beginning, to insist that I could go out on my own, that I could walk the streets without his constant watch. But each attempt was met with that close-eyed smile, the same one he wore when locking the door each morning.

What if something happened to you? he would ask, as though I were a child who couldn’t understand the dangers of the world. And then he would bring me gifts— books, flowers, anything to keep me content. See how much I love you? the gifts seemed to say. See how well I take care of you?

It's like he’s keeping score, like every smile I give him is another point in his favor.

There was no one to talk to. Only Micah, and the walls of this house, and the life growing inside me.

The prayers that once came so easily to my lips were gone, replaced by whispers of doubt and fear. Did God still hear me, here in this place so far from His light?

AAAAAAAAA IT WAS SO GOOD AGAIN!!!

If anyone wants to read what they wrote about Micah and reader meeting for the first time before!

You did such a good job writing him, if anyone is wondering this is pretty accurate to how Micah would handle getting his darling pregnant!

[verinarin]

Romcon Fluff | Ratio accidentally drinks your Love Serum ?!? | Tried to make this into a oneshot but I think it needs 2 more chapters, wdyt shall I continue?

Ruan Mei You accidentally made Veritas fell in love with you and he dislikes this festering feeling you have brought to him

support me on ko-fi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Ruan Mei is one of your closest friends, yet you rarely meet her since most of the time she’s off somewhere pursuing her lifelong pursuit of divinity, yet she never missed gifting you presents for your birthday.

You smile as you carefully untie the silk ribbon on your present, you can’t help but guess whatever is inside is a bottle of perfume because you could already inhale the sweet scent before even opening the intricate wooden box

Once you lift the lid it reveals a beautifully carved glass vial filled with a lavender-coloured liquid, you carefully examine the shimmering liquid in awe, it smells so sweet like a cherry blossom cake, you notice a light blue envelope inside the box

You carefully place the vial back to read open the envelope, there’s a beautifully written letter addressed to you, her sincerest friend

“Dearest friend of mine, Happy belated birthday. Now I have prepared this gift of mine long before your birthday but since I’m currently in the middle of nowhere I have deduced that It’ll reach your doorstep approximately 2 days late and for that, I apologise,” you smile as you read her letter, ah she’s still the same

Upon reading the 3-page long heartfelt letter Ruan Mei reveals that she has been making this rejuvenating serum for you since earlier this year, she said she used your DNA and modified it so for your birthday she gave you an enchantment serum of some sort

She said to pour it into a hot beverage and not too much since it’s a highly concentrated serum, so you decided to brew a cup of tea while you text her thank you. Okay so a little bit goes a long way, you slowly pour the serum into the tea when all of a sudden the bell into your apartment rings, it shakes you and accidentally makes you pour a lot more than you intended to

You quickly flip the vial and close its lid, you silently curse as you put the vial back and rush towards the door, you open the door with a pout on your face, now when you see the person behind it makes you more annoyed than before, Veritas Ratio in the flesh

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts and even my calls ?, your lack of response is going to cost us both substantial damage,” ah yes your assigned partner for the annual Intelligentsia Guild research showcase, where you and the narcissistic prick in front of you are assigned together by the committee

“Damage ?, I was just enjoying my birthday. Our research is not going to somehow dissipate into thin air if I enjoy some time for myself,” you groan, you want to slam your door into that handsome prick’s face, but you can’t because he’ll sue you

He scoffs while looking down on you, without any hesitation he slides into your apartment, at this point you want to just pounce over him, but thankfully you’re in a good mood because your tea is waiting for you-

That entitled motherfucker—

When you turn your body you see him blissfully sipping on your tea, like he’s entitled to it, “Hmm this tea is exquisite, the colour is stunning too where did you get this from ?” he asks as he swirls the cup, your cup

“Veritas Ratio that was my birthday present ?!!” you yell as you storm towards him, you try to pry his hands away from your tea but sadly he’s way taller than you, “Well then I need you to tell the person that gifted you this tea to tell me where they acquire such complex tea blend,”

You’re fuming, you swear that there’s smoke coming off your head like some sort of chimney, he notices this and weirdly he thinks you’re cute, he can’t believe that his heart just skipped a beat when you pout at him, what an unusual feeling

“Stop pouting, you’re making my heart palpitate faster than usual,” Veritas groans which surprised you, what the hell was he saying ?

“What the hell are you implying ?!”  you scan his face, somehow this man who is well known to be rude and disrespectful is blushing profusely, what the hell happened here ?!

“You !, can you stop looking that beautiful basking underneath the sunlight it bothers me, I hate it,” he can’t believe he just said that out loud, what the hell is happening with him

“H-huh ?!?, what the fuck is wrong with you Veritas, I rather have you yell at me for fucking up some calculations than whatever this is,” you shriek feeling slightly disgusted and oddly flattered ?!?

“Well do you think I have the slightest idea what made my mind suddenly throw out my rationale out of the window and replace it with you instead ?!,” okay this is starting to freak you out because this feels too real, way too real is this a dream, please be a dream

You start to lightly slap your face to snap yourself out of this horrific nightmare, “This is no dream, I suggest you start to be responsible over this,” he leans forward and reaches out to your hand, he presses it towards his beating heart, he’s serious about how fast it was palpitating-

“W-what do you mean responsible ?!?, for what h-huh ?,” you try to pull your hand away but to no avail, it’s like he glued it down on his firm chest

“For these festering feelings that I don’t enjoy having nor experiencing, it must’ve been the tea I drank because before this I was quite normal when it comes to staring at that captivating face of yours. No, I mean that horrid face of yours that someone enchanted when illuminated by the sun,” Oh nous, it can’t be that tea can it ?

Oh !, Ruan Mei what the hell did you gift ?. Veritas could see your face reduce to a state of emotionless, “Don’t ignore me fool !,” he mutters as he now guides your hand to rest his head against your palm

“S-stop acting weird,” you stutter on your words, your confidence has been drained and now you’re left with red-tinted cheeks, how frustrating

“Can’t help it, I just want you to notice my presence,” he mumbles against your palm, slightly kissing it while talking, Oh my nous, Ruan Mei needs to fix whatever this is or at this rate, he can’t perform his task as your research partner

“Okay okay I need to somehow make an antidote for you,” you take a deep breath trying to think of something, but how can you when he’s there watching you with those puppy eyes

“Please do because, to be frank, I’m extremely uncomfortable with the way I just want to kiss that pink lips of—“ before he can continue you slap his mouth shut with your palm

“Shut up !!, don’t utter any more nonsense, just get out of here and don’t come back until I find a way to fix whatever this is,” you quickly push him towards the door, he’s adamant about staying by making things harder for you

“Can’t I just wait here and assist you? I might miss you if you kick me out, I mean no of course I wouldn’t miss your brilliant mind what am I saying of course I’ll miss you,” this man needs to be stopped, you can’t handle the contradictions that he’s spewing

“What do I need to do for you to get out !,” you huff as you wipe away your sweat, this man weighs like those sculptures he makes

“A kiss on the lips should suffice,” he smirks, why did he smirk?!?, never mind that you can’t deal with this nonsense anymore, you quickly drag him by the collar and press your lips together within a second you pull away from the kiss leaving him happily dumbfounded, you took this chance to hurriedly push him out the door and lock it

What the hell just happened ?!?

[vincinnamontoast]

꩜ 𝑅𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑡 ꩜

vi 𝐱 reader!

SYNOPSIS: vi can be a bit overprotective and you’ve let it get to you

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

CONTAINS: mentions of blood, violence, cursing, slight mentions of n*fw

AUTHOR’S NOTE: got a little sad writing this but I hope you like! to be real, it was SLIGHTLY proofread. also first fic hehe :3

“Where are you going this late?” 

You didn’t even need to look up to know she was propped up against the doorframe with her arms crossed. You continued to slip your outfit on. You weren’t going to just leave the house without letting her know of course. You don’t like to make her worry. 

“Some friends texted. They all wanted to go to the bar to congratulate —— for their new job. I was going to tell you. I won’t be out long.”

You hoped this wouldn’t go the way you thought It would, but by her body language, it was going to go exactly the way you suspected. You took a deep breath, getting ready for what she was going to say. She stood up a bit with her defined arms now unfolded. She was tense. If there is one thing about Vi, she is never going to be afraid to show how she feels in her face and body language. Vi was the overprotective and clingy type. Very much so. Not the type that wouldn’t allow you out however. She knows you are grown and can protect yourself, but she couldn’t help but protest when she was able.  

She sighed, defeated. “What bar? Where?”

You bit your lip and sighed. Here we go. You stayed silent for a moment. 

“It’s just a bar around town, Vi. I’m not sure of the name.” 

She could see you fidgeting with your hands on your hip. You couldn’t even look her in the eye. She knows every single thing about you, your mannerisms, the meaning of your body language, and when you were lying to her. You knew exactly where you were going. You finally looked up at her after a bit of silence. She was stern. Arms crossed again. You couldn’t help but be nervous. She was so hot when she was upset, but now was not the time. You could see that in the furrowing of her brows and the scrunch on her freckled nose. 

“The Last Drop. Undercity but liste-“

”No. Are you crazy? Do you know how dangerous it is? And to go by yourself?? No, y/n.” She scoffed.

You were pissed off at this point. “Violet, I am grown and I’m not stupid. You know I can protect myself. Besides, I won’t be alone!” 

She knew she couldn’t tell you what to do. She was your girlfriend, not your mother. Although, she still couldn’t help but be afraid. Maybe she was overreacting? She wouldn’t know in this moment, she just wants you safe. She knows what happens in the undercity. You had only been down there once with Vi and three guys in the same night had grabbed the both of you. She would go insane if that happened again and she wasn’t there to protect you. There was no way she was going to let you go by your lonesome. 

“I’m so fucking sick of you treating me like I’m a child. You do this anytime I have somewhere to be without you.  You don’t need to be right on my ass all the fucking time. I’m going.” It stung her to hear. Her heart pinged and she felt insignificant. She was in her head, she knew that. You had every right to feel overwhelmed by her constant presence, but she couldn’t help how she felt in the heat of this moment. You shoved past her in the doorway. You couldn’t even make it fully past without her grabbing your arm. You didn’t turn around. 

“Let me go, Vi.” You loved her with every fiber of your being. You loved how protective she was although it could be too much sometimes. You know her story and why she is the way she is. You love her so much regardless. You loved how she constantly followed you like a little puppy and how she always had to be touching you in some way. You felt lost without each other. If anyone saw you anywhere, it was for certain that Vi wouldn’t be following too far behind. You just wanted to go to this event with your friends but the both of you were not agreeing. 

You couldn’t see the tears that were slowly rolling down her puffy and freckled cheeks. She knew you were stubborn but usually you heard where she was coming from. She was scared. Every possibility of something dangerous happening to you slid through her brain like a slideshow and she was starting to get more overwhelmed by the second. She didn’t want to take away your freedom. Never. That isn’t what she wants. She just wants to protect you and she didn’t know how to do that unless she was on your tail. She couldn’t lose someone again. She was so tired of the sleepless nights where she blamed herself for what happened to Powder, Claggor, Mylo, and Vander. Her parents. You would be her last straw. She can’t lose you. The clock read 11:42pm. Roughly yanking your arm out of her strong grip, you pace for the front door with your bag in hand. A state of panic was setting in for her. 

“Baby, please. Listen. Stay home just this time. Please. It’s dangerous. Especially at this time of night.” She pleaded. This time she grabbed your entire body in her embrace and attempted to cage you in. She was gentle, however. As Vi always was with her loved ones, especially you.

Anger casted over you like it never had before and your body moved on it’s own. You felt as if you didn’t even get to think about the slick move you had made. You’re immediately knocked into your senses as you see Vi on the floor holding her arm. You hit her. Hard. The both of you were in pure shock. She had fallen back into the table pretty hard, knocking over a picture that the both of you took together. Glass shards scattered where her palms were pressed flat on the floor. Your hands started to shake and breathing was becoming heavy and difficult. You couldn’t move. Your body wouldn’t let you. You took a moment to evaluate her state. She was still on the ground, holding her arm. Her palms were coated red. Her pink hair slightly covered her face as every breath she took blew a strand of it like dandelions in the wind. She huffed a strand away from her face again and looked at you. Not a sliver of anger glosses over her eyes, not even once. She doesn’t ball her fists or clench her jaw like she normally would if anyone else had touched her. She stays on the ground, her soft silver-ish blue eyes forming more tears than were slipping down her pretty face before. She looked like an abandoned puppy.

You were still angry and your perception of everything was clouded, but your heart stung. Oh, it burned like fire. You hurt her. How could you? How could you look into those gentle eyes that showed nothing but love, adoration, and pure obsession towards you and do what you did? You were beating yourself up, still unable to move. Your hands were tainted. The hands that have caressed her hair when she’s struggling to sleep, that have stroked her soft freckled cheeks, and that glided across her heart shaped lips so gently. The hands that have touched her in the softest and most lewdest ways. On every part of her body. These hands have now harmed her and poured blood from her skin. You wanted nothing more than to pull her into your arms and sob. You wanted to take care of her, however; you were still in a state of panic. Blood began dripping from her arm. So much of her blood was everywhere. You felt like a monster. You couldn’t look at her anymore. At what you did. She doesn’t notice the blood nor the pain. She doesn’t care. She was still staring at you with big watery eyes. Her mouth hung slightly open as if she wanted to say something. You didn’t know what to do. So much was going through your head. Fuck the bar, you just needed a breather. Tossing your purse on the floor, you grabbed your jacket and huffed out the door. Leaving her a sobbing bloody mess. 

“Please don’t leave. Please.” You heard as you slammed the door. Maybe any other person would have ran back in but you knew yourself. You needed time to think. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: me personally…I would do anything she says buttt yk for the plot. may or may not do a part 2 :3

I’ve already posted this before but my tags weren’t working so this is my trying again ! :3

[alpaca-clouds]

You Cannot Create A Solarpunk Future Under Capitalism

I am feeling like a broken record, but I just need to make this clear once more: No, Solarpunk in any form is not possible under capitalism. If you think it is, you either fail to understand Solarpunk, or you don't get what capitalism even means.

Technically I wrote about this already almost exactly a year ago. Let me reiterate it again, though: Solarpunk at its core is build around a couple of ideas. Those are:

Living in relative harmony with our environment, rather than destroying it. (Which includes using renewable energies.)

Decolonialism.

Social justice and the same rights, chances and possibilities for all people.

Neither of those three points is archievable under capitalism, as the end goals of capitalism are opposed to each of them.

Let me go through each of them.

Environmental Sustainability is not archievable under capitalism.

This is the point people tend to argue about the most. Because they will go: "But if the renewable energy sources are cheaper than fossil fuels, the capitalist will see more possibilities to make money with it." Well, do I have news for you: A variety of renewable sources, such as solar and wind power, are already a lot cheaper than fossil fuels and yet somehow the capitalist argue against using them. Care to explain that? No? Well, I'll do it for you. (Technically already did in that blog last year.)

See, when someone's net worth is listed somewhere, most of them actually do not have billions of dollars on their bank accounts. And no, they also do not swim in gold coins. Instead their net worth comes from calculating how much money they would be able to make if they sold all thier assets. A lot of those assets are shares in companies they have, as well as stuff like their fancy houses, fancy cars, fancy private jets and fancy yachts. Most billionaires have not more than a couple tens million dollars in liquid money, meaning money they can just spend. If they wanna buy something that is more expensive, they will usually go to a bank, say: "Look at all the stuff I have. I wanna buy myself more stuff. Gimme money?" And the bank will go: "Of course, Sir Billionaire, here you go. Have a nice 10 billion dollars."

And this is where the issue arrises: Most of the billionaires who are investing in the energy market, have already invested billions in fossil fuels. Be it by owning shares of fossil fuel companies, or by owning mines, oil rigs, power plants and the like. And this puts them into a silly little position: Even if they wanted to make more money through renewables, they cannot without harming themselves. Because in the moment that renewables become even more viable than they already are, fossil fuels lose their viabilities - and hence all the assets they hold in fossil fuels lose their value in an instant. The billionairs know that. The banks know it, too. Which is why banks do not want to give the fossil fuel billionaires money for that, even if they ask.

And that is only on the energy-generating side of it. If you go into the other stuff that harms our environment... Simply put: Public transport will never make as much money, as selling everyone their own car. And plastics are just so much cheaper than any alternatives. And the companies need fast fashion, because they won't make as much money, if folks only go buying new clothes every ten years.

Capitalism is build on the exploitation of the environment.

You cannot archieve decolonialization under capitalism.

Let's talk about the call to decolonize next. This is even easier explained: Capitalism is build on colonialism. And contrary to what you might have been told in school, colonialism has never ended. Most indigenous folks never got their ancestral land back - or have to fight to remain on it to this day. The most notable examples you know off might be indigenous people on their land (at times the land they originally had been forced onto after their ancestral land had been stolen from them) fighting pipelines that the capitalists want to put onto that land. That is colonialism.

In fact a lot of the raw material we use to power capitalism is produced on stolen land or is moved across stolen land to be financially viable. Be it oil springs, that can be found there. Or be it mines. That is both mines that produce coal, but also mines that are used to produce lithium and other materials used in batteries of electric cars. These raw materials should technically belong to the indigenous people from whose land those materials are sourced. And we do know for a fact that some of them will prefer to leave those materials in the ground. Maybe because of the harm to the environment that mining for them creates. Maybe because the land is sacred to them. Maybe because some of them just do not care about cheap electric cars.

It is more than that, of course. Because colonialism also allows for slave labor. And yes, I mean slave labor. Like classical slave labor where people are pressganged into laboring in those mines, or in other factories, where they are not paid at all - or are paid in breadcrums. The reason that the global south is so abhorently poor, even though most of the raw materials powering our world are found there, is, that the people in the global south are exploited, while the land is often owned by people from the global north, who either got it through colonialism - or by buying it from someone who got it through colonialism.

And once again: The profit motive of capitalism is directly opposed to decolonizing - and because of that it won't happen. Capitalism is built on colonial exploitation.

You cannot archive social justice under capitalism.

Capitalism as a system was invented for one reason and one reason alone: To allow former nobility, who were close to lose their power and influence in a Europe of anti-royal revolutions, to hold onto the power and influence and veil it underneath the idea of meritocracy. Basically saying: "Everyone gets what they deserve based on the work they got in." Obviosly they got the most, because they owned the land that everyone was working and living on. And then they did their best to brainwash everyone into believing this - at which they actually succeeded.

Here is the thing: Capitalism needs an underclass to exploit. Sure, a good chunk of that exploitation will happen in other countries, where the poor white middleclass folks do not need to see them toil, but some of that exploitation simply cannot be done in those other countries. At times because the work physically needs to happen in the western nations - stuff like road contruction, general contruction work, cleaning and such are an example of this. And at times because some things might be time critical, cannot be transported that far and stuff like that - like farm work in some cases, or also all the Amazon warehouse stuff. Oh, and all those fastfood jobs belong into this area. Stuff that is paid minimum wage and exploited to no end.

And then there is of course prison labor in the US, which once again is just slavery.

And all of that does not even go into the care and nursing work that is either underpaid by a ton when it is happening on the open market (like in hospitals, schools, kindergardens and other care facilities) - or is happening completely for free. Mosten done by women, who will care for both children, as well as elders and disabled family members for free.

The true endgoal of capitalism is to turn the labor of the lower classes into money and value for the upper class to hoard like bloody dragons. As such capitalism will never be compatible with any sort of equal rights and equal chances.

Those three aspects are truths that just cannot be changed. Capitalism will never be able to create any sort of justice, equal rights, or sustainability. It is not in the interest of capitalism to do so, either.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Pomegranate | Nikolai x F!Reader

Chapter 2

Your second meeting with Nikolai

cw: cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking, blow jobs, piv, abusive relationships, shower sex, he gives her alcohol to calm her down

Masterpost

You knew the drill this time. All your clothes taken off, this time folded, and left in a stack on the floor. The panties and bra he left you were still too small and were a light pink this time. He must have a collection somewhere, hopefully one he bought rather than gathered. The door beeped and unlocked. 

“Kotenok, come here,” He called down the hall from the living room. You hurried over, footsteps softened by the rugs he had laid everywhere. “Ahh, there you are. Prekrasnyy”

He was standing by the bar, shaking a cocktail, shirtless with his various tattoos on display. “Do you drink?”

“Not normally, Sir.” You stood next to the bar, hands at your side. He poured out the shaker into a glass and slid it over to you. 

“I don’t want you shaking as much tonight.” He gave you a pointed look till you picked up the glass and took a sip. It was fruity and strong, burning a bit as you swallowed.

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“Go wait for me on the couch.” He turned his back to grab another bottle off the shelf for his own drink. 

His house was always a bit cold, making your nipples hard and your skin pimple. Your feet were always cold since he never gave you shoes. A double edged sword considering how others had made you pace for hours wearing six inch and higher heels. 

You sat on the couch trying to seem sexy, back straight with your chest jutting out and a leg extended across the cushions. Just be an object, a pretty object for him to stick his fingers into. 

A hand gripped the back of your neck, not painfully but forcibly. He held you still as you gasped.

“Finish your drink, Kotenok.” He tilted your head back so your eyes were on him. You drank it down in three quick gulps, maintaining eye contact with him. You watched carefully for any sign of pleasure or approval but nothing came. “No more shaking, yes?”

You nodded and he let go of your neck. The liquor sloshed around in your stomach. He had a heavy pour that was clear. 

He sat down and motioned for you to come over. He guided you till your head was laying on his lap, face up towards the ceiling. He held your neck again, massaging the sides of it. He smelled like oud and musk and tobacco and gunpowder.

“You fuck anyone else today?” He asked, taking a sip from his own drink glass. 

“Yes, Sir.” Don’t shake, you screamed at yourself. “I cleaned myself before coming. I remembered how you like it.”

He gave you a pleased sigh,  “Good girl.”

You tensed up as he sat his drink down on your forehead. “Don’t spill.”

One of his thumbs forced its way into your mouth, his ring catching on your teeth. You dug your nails into your legs, transferring all your anxious energy to other parts of your body. Both your hands fit around his one, holding it gently while you sucked on his finger. Condensation from his glass dripped down onto your forehead. 

“Are you afraid of me, Kotenok?” He asked, pulling his finger from your mouth only to flick it against one of your nipples. You bit down on your tongue to stop yourself from flinching. 

“No, Sir.” His hand trailed down to rest on your stomach. You avoided looking at him, not wanting to see if he caught your lie. You were in his den, laying between his teeth, praying he wouldn’t clamp down. You knew enough about the men who paid Arno to know he was dangerous. Outside of these meetings he exchanged blood for gold. The security, the art, the liquor, the sheets all cost money. A lot of money. The tattoos were the same you saw on Russian mobsters. 

“Are you afraid of Arno?”

Yes. Arno was in charge of the club, of you, and the rest of the girls. He was the one who trapped you into debt, threatened your safety if you tried to flee. His threats weren’t empty. A couple months ago a girl got as far as Glasgow before being dragged back here. He gathered everyone into the main club room and broke her legs. You never saw her again. You imagine she went to one of the clients that paid extra to break their toys. 

Arno slapped you across the face once because he thought you gave him a dirty look. He rarely fucked any of his girls. His drug habit prevented him from getting hard so it was more to save himself embarrassment than a lack of desire. On good days he kept to himself in his office.

“Kotenok, answer my question.” His fingers flexed against your stomach, claws ready to come out and gut you. 

“Yes,” you said meekly. 

“He take the money I gave you?”

“No.” It was tucked away safely in the lining of your coat. You told no one about it. A hundred years ago the Romanov girls sewed jewels into their petticoats. It caused the bullets to ricochet around the room when they were killed. Pound notes wouldn’t protect you the same but the coat was yours. You slept in it most nights, a better blanket than you’d ever been given. 

“Good.” He patted your stomach. “He’s a fucking siklo.”

“What does that mean?” The question slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“He’s a pussy,” he chuckled. “You can tell him I said that. Might not work well for you if you do though.”

He took the glass off your head and downed it one gulp. He took your chin between two fingers and turned your head to his crotch. He stopped you from sliding off the couch to get between his legs. “Want you up here with me.”

It was an awkward angle as you rolled over onto your stomach. His hand rubbed circles on your ass as you undid his trousers. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you rubbed his cock through his boxers. His head was already tilted back, eyes closed. 

You wondered if you could bite his throat hard enough to kill before he could stop you. You took an anatomy class once, the vein was right up front, right? That’s where they always cut in movies. He’d kill you before he died or someone else would kill you afterwards. You could get a lick in before that. Get an ounce of flesh for revenge before he cracks your skull under his foot. 

He pinched your ass. You’d stopped moving.

“Sorry, Kolya.” You kissed his cock through the fabric. 

He hummed pleasantly, eyes still closed. You stroked him to half hardness before taking his tip into your mouth. You bobbed your head, sucking on his tip when you went up. He groaned softly, bucking his hips up as you took him deeper and deeper. His breath hitched when you licked his slit. He pinched your ass again when you took him out of your mouth completely, only to rub the spot apologetically when you took his balls into your mouth, stroking his length with your free hand. 

“Want to come in your mouth, Kotenok.” A hand tangled in your hair and pulled you upwards. You took him back into your mouth, lavishing your tongue around the head of his cock. His groaning turned to growls. He flooded your mouth with hot salt. He held your head still, lazily thrusting his twitching cock down your throat. 

When he moved his hand you finally pulled yourself off him and laid your head sideways on his thigh. 

His thumb tugged your lower lip down, opening your mouth for him to look inside. You stuck your tongue out, showing you swallowed him. 

“Did they feed you tonight?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

“No, sir. They didn’t.” 

He sighed, “Arno never takes care of his girls.”

He moved you off his lap and left. Your head was busy. You didn’t know what to think of him. He had been kind but you weren’t here because you wanted to be and he knew that. He knew Arno made money off your rape. He paid for it and presumably for the pleasure to do the same to other girls before you. You told yourself to remember that. No matter how nice he was to you, he was not a good man. He’d just as soon kill you as fuck you.

You sat up when he reentered the room, a plate in hand. A chicken breast and some roasted vegetables. Your mouth watered. Food at the club was protein bars and whatever snacks you could get your hands on. You didn’t remember the last time you ate meat. 

“Eat. You’ll need the energy.”

“Thank you.” You said, taking the plate as carefully as you could. Part of you was afraid he’d snatch it back before you could get one bite in. You ate slowly or so you thought.

“Hungry, Kotenok?” He chuckled.

“I’m sorry.” You rested your fork on the plate, face turning hot.

“Don’t be. You need to eat. Finish your meal.” He nodded at you.

You sat cross legged beside him, moaning as the juice from the chicken hit your tongue. He rubbed the back of your neck. There was a fascination in his eyes like he’d never seen someone eat before. 

“You don’t go hungry when you’re here, understood? I don’t want to hear your stomach growling when I’m trying to sleep.”

You nodded as you swallowed a mouth full of veggies. He wiped the corner of your mouth, “Good girl.”

When you finished eating he tucked you under his arm and turned on the news. His fingers played with the elastic of your panties. He leaned in to press his lips to your hairline, “Touch yourself. I want you wet for me.” 

You might have played it up, breathing heavy against his side as you played with your clit. Two fat, ringed fingers pushed their way into your mouth. You remembered his words from last week, “I don’t like liars.” You quieted down, sucking on his fingers obediently. His arm kept you pinned to him in a pseudo headlock. The hair of his arm tickled your face. You felt a pulse in your cunt, liquid heat pooling inside you. Last week’s lube was a courtesy, you understood that now. You rolled your hips a little, grinding against your hand. 

His cock was still out. You watched him grow larger and perk up under the curve of his stomach. Drool was seeping out around his fingers and dripping down your chin onto his leg. He hooked one of his fingers against the corner of your lips and pulled, letting a cascade of drool pour out with a chuckle.

“Want you to ride me, Kotenok.” He wiped his wet fingers on your stomach.

Straddling him on the couch was when you first became aware of how small you were to him. There was a burn in the muscles of your thighs. Your hips fit perfectly into his hands as he lowered you down on his cock. You held his shoulders tight, gasping and whining as each inch disappeared inside you. His eyes were dark, pupils blown out. It was a hungry look. Men often looked like they wanted to devour you, he was the first who might actually be able to do so. 

He let you take a moment as you sat flush with his hips. He rubbed your spine, murmuring in Russian against your cheek as he laid small kisses. He’d never kissed you before. You hadn’t moved yet and your thighs were shaking. You felt overstuffed, your pussy clenching around him as it adjusted. You let out a shuddered breath. 

He leaned back, arms stretched out across the back of the couch as you started to roll your hips. You tucked your head under his chin, riding his cock. Your ass smacking against his thighs. The head of his cock dragged against your walls and you couldn’t help but keen when his cock bumped against that spot inside you. 

“Yebat,” he groaned, a hand slapping against your ass. He suddenly gripped your hips and started thrusting up into you. “Pussy fucking made for me.”

You dug your nails into his shoulders, “Kolya…fuck…Kolya.”

Part of you hated how good his cock felt inside you. Hated that this is what you had to do to survive now. Hated how you shivered when his stubble rubbed against your cheek when he nipped at your earlobe. Hated how vulnerable you were yet you were moaning wantonly on his cock.

You slipped a hand between your legs to rub your clit, scissoring it between two fingers. His hot breath skated across your face,“Going to come on my cock again?”

“Yes, Kolya,” You cried. You hardly knew how to discern between pretend and actual pleasure anymore. What want really was. You did want to come but you’d rather be alone with a toy between your legs rather than riding the cock of a large Russian man. A large calloused hand gently pushed yours away and began to rub your clit with fervor. 

“Come.” He ordered. You melted in his hold, your teeth dragging against his chest. Your thighs gave out, collapsing you fully on his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm, muttering about how tight you were. “Going to fill you up, Kotenok.”

He grabbed your hair and pulled your head backwards, your chins touching. “Open your mouth,” he breathed. You did and he spit into it. You kept your eyes on him as you swallowed. He grunted loudly, cum filling any space left in your cunt. 

He slumped against the couch while you did the same against his chest. His heart was beating wildly under the hair and tattoos. 

He kept you on his cock, lighting his cigar as he went soft inside you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and laid your head under his chin. He smelled good. You tried to let yourself relax. He’d turned the news off at some point, letting the two of you sit in silence. He laughed softly. You glanced up and he was staring down at you.

“You’ve made a mistake.” You opened your mouth to apologize, confused as to what you could have done in this moment. “You’ve made me like you too much. Going to call you back every Tuesday. You’re a good cocksleeve.” 

He made you another drink and then another. Then fucked you on the floor doggy style. He fucked your throat again after turning on a football match. You started to lose track of what was happening when he pushed you down onto the floor again. Several hours later you were splayed out on the rug, cum dripping out of you and “Kolya” coming out like a mantra. He heaved you up and over his shoulder.

“Did I tire you?” He chuckled, smacking your ass. Your head rolled listlessly as he carried you upstairs. 

He wiped you clean with a warm wet rag before pulling the comforter over you. You drifted off quickly. His bed was soft and warm, much more comfortable than the cot you slept on in the club’s basement. A lot of men didn’t let you sleep in their bed. One even handcuffed you to the couch for the night so he could sleep without worry. You woke up an hour later with Kolya’s arm around your middle, his nose buried in your hair. He didn’t grumble when you got up to drink water or use the bathroom. Only beckoned you back to him, pulling the covers back over the two of you. 

At one point woke up to him pulling one of your legs over his hips, cock sliding between your folds. 

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “Want you like this.”

Exhaustion pulled you back under easily even with his hips hitting your ass and his hand groping your breast.  

You woke up alone in bed. No tea left for you on the side table. Through the bathroom door you heard the shower running. You dragged yourself out of bed and to the bathroom, knocking on the door.

“Come in!” He called. 

The bathroom was so full of steam you could barely make sense of where anything was. A wet hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the shower. He pinned you to the wall of the shower while kissing you sloppily. It felt intimate in a way you weren’t familiar with. He cradled your face while stealing the air from your lungs. His knee slid between your legs and you felt his cock on your thigh.

“Dobroye utro,” he purred.

“Good morning…?” You guessed his words. 

“You learn quickly,” He grinned. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, opening your mouth for his tongue to slide in. Kissing clients was not a regular occurrence, wanting to kiss them back never happened. Yet here you were, moaning softly as his tongue tangled with yours. He rolled one of your nipples between his fingers. “Want you again.”

He fucked you against the shower wall, your legs wrapped around his middle as he bucked into you. You were sure you’d cut open his back with your nails. He sucked a mark against the crook of your neck. He moaned when you tugged on his hair. He came on the tiles only to pin you to them again and rub your clit till you were jelly. 

“You’re shaking again.” He said, holding you by an arm around your waist as he cleaned you both up with a washcloth. 

“I’m hungry,” you answered, honestly.

“Let’s get breakfast, then, yes?”

He got you a plush robe to wear.. He padded around the kitchen in his boxers. From your place atop the counter you watched him make batter and pour a small amount into a pan. He was making you crepes. 

His phone started ringing and he sighed as he looked at the screen. 

“Go wait in the dining room for me, okay, Kotenok.” You nodded and left quickly, hearing him switch to Russian on the phone. He sounded upset and you wondered if you were going to actually get food before leaving. 

You sat to the right of the head chair, resting your chin on the table as you waited. You could hear him get loud every so often. 

“Eat up and I’ll call your car.” He laid a plate in front of you. Two crepes layered with strawberry jam and whipped cream. He was tense, you could tell by the way his hand held the plate. 

“Everything okay?” A dangerous question. It was none of your business. Nothing to concern yourself with. You added quickly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have.” He rested a hand between your shoulder blades, at the base of your neck. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. My Kotenok’s just worried about me, yes?”

You nodded, looking up through your lashes. Sweet as a lamb you could be. Don’t shake. Don’t shake.  You took his hand and kissed his rings, “Yes, Kolya.”

“Eat your food.”He ordered, sitting down beside you with a cup of espresso in hand. 

“Thank you, Kolya.”

The bottom of one crepe was burnt. You ate it without a word.

He walked you to the front door this time. Kissed your shoulder as he took the robe off. 

“For you,” he handed you another stack of hundred pound notes. Six this time. You held it close to your chest. 

He pushed your hair from your face and kissed your cheek. “See you next week.”

He shut the door behind you, locking you out. You put your clothes on as quickly as you could before shoving the notes into the lining of your coat with the rest. 

The car was idling outside. 

“Hurry up,” Abel snapped. He was one of several drivers Arno had on hand. He was also the meanest. Acted like he was dropping off and picking up girls from the lap of luxury instead of the equivalent of a haunted house.

You stayed quiet in the backseat. You’d forgotten one of your socks.

You were hurried into the back door. Men and other girls moving around chaotically..

Someone grabbed your upper arm and yanked you roughly into a side room.

“At least he hasn’t fucked up your face,” Marcus said, holding your chin and moving your head around roughly. Despite being the reason you were in this situation he was still aggressively possessive of you. Hands clenched in fists whenever he saw you head to a client’s. “Whatever you did, Arno’s pissed. Expected to see you with broken teeth when you got back. ” 

“I…I didn’t do anything. He said he wanted to see me again.” You didn’t know his actual name. Kolya had to have been a diminutive of something but you didn’t know enough Russian to guess. He ripped the letter from your hands. He had sealed it with wax. Funny honestly. Probably knew that every man in this building was itching to climb over another for an extra dollar. 

“Let’s find out for sure, then.”

He dragged you down the hall in a bruising grip. 

“Arno! The Fixer’s bitch is back!” He knocked on the office door.

“Marcus, stop!” You hissed. You didn’t want to be in a room with Arno during one of his bad moods especially not if Marcus was intent on making it worse. 

The door opened. Arno barely scraped six feet tall but he was thin with a square jaw and blue eyes that always seemed blown out. It was no secret he had a nasty coke habit. He always looked a little strung out, a little manic. 

“There she is. ” He hung onto the frame of the door, looking over you and Marcus. He always seemed surprised to see you, like he forgot he’d imprisoned you. He grabbed the front of your coat and pulled you into the office with Marcus at your heels. 

You were shoved onto the couch in the office. Marcus sitting next to you with an arm around your shoulders, holding you against him.

Arno sat on his desk, seething.

“You know what Nikolai said to me today?”

“I don’t know.” You answered meekly, wringing your hands in your lap.

“He’s fucking giving me orders now. Said you weren’t allowed to fuck anyone twenty four hours before going to visit him.” Arno let out an incredulous laugh and threw his hands into the air. 

“He didn’t say anything to me.” You tried to assure. You never rocked the boat, just held onto your oar and hoped your life preserver worked. Marcus grabbed your arm roughly, almost pulling you into his lap. 

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re trying to milk him for everything. You suck his cock extra good? He’s sweet on you now?” Marcus laughed and pulled on your cheek. “Maybe I’ll send you back to him with my cum dripping out of you. How do you like that?”

“I didn’t ask for that.” You pleaded, looking at Arno desperately for some relief from Marcus’s taunts.

“He’s fucking with me,” Arno sighed, rubbing his face harshly. “He’s fucking fucking with me!”

He angrily slapped the lamp off his desk, sending it shattering against the wall. You leaned back against the couch. You had to get out of this room. 

Marcus released you and leaned back on the couch. “Just don’t send her back. What’s the old cunt going to do?”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Marcus.” Arno glared. You bit your tongue to hold back a laugh. “You know I can’t do that. We need his money. That’s why he’s fucking with us. Probably doesn’t even like her that much.”

“Hear that? Don’t get attached.” Marcus pulled on your cheek again. “Nikolai will dump you in a ditch soon enough. Right, Arno?”

He stared at you, blinking slowly, his brow furrowing in anger. He must have forgotten you were there. His brain barely making connections with his own eyes. 

“Get her out of here, Marcus! What the fuck is she even doing here!” Marcus jumped up and pulled you with him. “She shouldn’t be hearing any of this!”

“Sorry. You know how these sluts are. Nosey cunts” He shoved you out of the office, growling close to your face, “Wait for me in my office.”

His ‘office’ was a storage closet with an old desk in it. The door was slammed in your face. He was going to punish you for his own humiliation.  

Through your coat you felt the notes. You would get out of here. You would be your best for Nikolai. He would keep paying you and you’d get out of here. Get on a plane and never be seen again. You were getting out.