#but I can see him feeling all wrong afterwards

[viennacherries]

okay hi sorry i need to talk about the lucanis romance for a moment and why i think it's absolutely perfect. spoilers below the cut ofc

so obviously there are a limited number of romance scenes. i really do believe in the case of lucanis' romance this lends itself to telling his story.

we learn through party banter with him and emmerich that his relationship with rook is his first. and that's not suprising really, he's an assassin. he faces death constantly and aside from the fact that he could die at any moment, being in a relationship gives his enemies a weak spot to exploit. love and the weakness required to accept and give it is a risk he cannot afford in his line of work.

then you add on the fact that he's been in the ossuary for a year. he was definitely sure he was never getting out of there. and then he does but he's possessed.

so here's rook. and they're flirting with him and being all enticing and he thinks they're great. but he doesn't deserve love and he certainly can't risk it. he's an abomination, he'll put them in danger. and what happens afterwards? when he goes back to taking contracts? it only takes pissing off the wrong person once for rook to be in danger. so he mostly just talks around it. tried not to think about it or aknowledge it.

and then spite breaks through for the second time. and there's rook. again. and they're soft and understanding and kind and they remind him that under everything else, all of the trauma and the fear, he's human. they make him feel so safe and he starts to let his walls down.

we can't know for sure why he pulls away in that moment, but i think it's because he reminds himself how dangerous it is for him and for rook. he wants them terribly but it's such an awful no good idea so he drags himself away.

but he still cares for them. he makes them dessert and he keeps them safe and eventually he has to admit to himself that they're not just friends anymore.

and then rook is taken into the fade by solas.

he never tells rook, you only find this out in a bellara romance, but rook is in the fade for weeks.

all that time, lucanis is there and he's just full of regret. because holy shit he's fallen in love with them and now they're gone and he should've just told them. he should've held them like he wanted. because now he can't and he never will again.

and then they're back.

and he comes into their room and his words are so simple.

"i never thought id see you again. i thought id lost you"

and obviously the rest of his dialogue can vary in this scene but all of it is SO weighted if you consider the fact that he really did think they were dead.

"i do. i know how to feel."

"it's one of the things i love about you"

"i'm not going anywhere."

he is in LOVE with them and he's tired of fighting it. he's tired of pretending he isn't. he's tired of denying himself of what he wants because he's scared. because ultimately he did lose them, despite how careful he'd been, and it hurt just the same.

"i know how to feel." because he DOES now.

so in the last battle, before you fight elgernan, he tells you again just how much he loves you. how he'll do anything he needs to to be back in your arms when it's over. because those weeks without you were torture and he never wants to do that again. he wasted all that time terrified to hurt you but you got hurt anyway. why keep pretending? why keep denying himself the person he wants more than anything in the world? he goes from 0-100 because this is so much more real now. there's so much to lose.

"i've assumed you knew my heart because it beats for you. it's been beating... when i wanted you. when i was afraid to want you... tell me this ends with me asleep in your arms and i will kill any god you ask."

this one sentence conveys EVERYTHING. all of his longing throughout the game. how long he has loved rook. he didn't say it because he was afraid. but he's not afraid anymore.

so much of lucanis' romance is about subtext. it's about the things he doesn't say rather than the things he does.

i think it's absolutely beautiful.

[glade-constellation]

I was scrolling through TikTok and came across this audio that really just, put all the puzzle pieces together for how Nexus really felt. Imagine Sun is the one speaking. Sun never said this, he never would say this to Nexus back when he was “Moon”, but this is how Nexus interpreted it.

Nexus woke up with no identity. Not a single clue of who he was, what he was meant to be, or what he could become. But there’s someone there that’s telling him who he should be, and no one is arguing it, so that just must be how it goes. He never even tries to start figuring out who he is, he goes straight into being who someone else wants him to be. He was Moon. That was his name.

But then they start telling him all the wrongs he did. No one was telling him he needed to take the blame, but to him it was clear they wanted him to. Because he was Moon. And Moon had done those things, even if he didn’t. He had no memory of doing them, but he was Moon so he had to have made those mistakes. They were his problems, and he had to fix them.

So he does. He stops Eclipse. He tries to fix what he can with Sun, and be there for his brother. He desperately tries to keep Lunar safe even if Lunar was not happy with him afterwards. But that’s just it. He’s doing all these things and it feels like he’s getting nothing back. No one seems to acknowledge what he’s putting in, and when they do recognize it they give him shit for it. He keeps trying and keeps seeming to fail.

Then, he has a chance to talk to himself. The person that is actually Moon, the one who actually made all those mistakes. The one whose entire identity was forced upon Nexus. There is no thank you. There is no heartfelt conversation. There is nothing but mildly curious indifference and once again being forced to into an identity that wasn’t truly him. Told to die in it, if it kept the family happy.

Then Solar died. And he was devastated. And he grieved. But apparently, he wasn’t even allowed to grieve as his own self, he had to grieve like Moon too. Had to still be there for others while grieving himself, keep up an act to keep them happy while he was suffering. They weren’t there to comfort him, they were there to comfort Moon, and they weren’t still doing a pretty poor job of that.

That was his breaking point. Never once did he feel like his family cared about him. They cared about Moon. He was so, so tired of the identity forced upon him. From now on, he was going to call the shots in his own life. If he died, he’d die as his own person, and no one else.

Nexus was constantly buried under the weight of being someone he never truly was by his entire family. Earth was the only one who treated him as his own person, and that’s because she only knew him as himself. She had never known Moon, and had no bias to go off of. Lunar, quite obviously at this point, didn’t like him and made a point of showing it. Because he wasn’t the original Moon and Lunar didn’t like that. Sun obviously had years worth of bias. I think that’s why he favored Earth over the others, because she actually cared about him. She didn’t care about what he was supposed to be, she cared about who he was.

There’s a deep complexity to Nexus as a character that I need people to see and understand. People feel like Nexus only started his downward spiral after Solar died, but he has been suffering since day one. He had an entire year’s worth of trauma, both his own and those forced upon him, that lead him to becoming Nexus. Nexus becoming a villain felt like a wildly outrageous “edgy emo teen” phase because, in a way, it was. Nexus had never known who he truly was, because he had never expressed himself outside of the realm that was Moon. He was simultaneously trying to find himself and distance himself as far as he could from Moon. He was trying to become everything that Moon wasn’t so he could escape. His turn to becoming a villain was because, despite Moon having hurt people, Moon had never been a villain in anyone’s eyes.

Becoming Nexus was his way of freedom. He was happier dying the villain than he was living as Moon.

[matrixbearer2024]

Suffering

Are you really even living? Or simply surviving doctor? When had immortality turned from a blessing into a curse? More importantly, did you really even care? Or did you only care because you're now all alone?

AKA; Ford internalizing now that he's alone and invulnerable to the sands of time. The same can't be totally said for his mental state though. After all, he's only human.

Songfic based on "Suffering" by Amelie Farren written for my Time Lord Twins AU!

I'm very delulu for my AU- so have a sneak peek into Doc's future with this song fic I wrote. I have three distinct moments for Stanford as the Doctor in my timelord twins AU:

the Doctor that neglects — when he was young and was only a Doctor thanks to his PhDs

the Doctor that regrets — present, where I normally create content for him and where his blog and RP are currently situated

the Doctor that forgets — the far flung future where he outlives everybody and completely embraces being a time lord

I'll be tagging these posts accordingly, but I'd love to talk about his lore much more if you guys are interested!

The sun had long dipped below the edge of the cosmos, surrendering to the sea of stars that now spilled across the boundless sky. Within the TARDIS, Stanford stood against the vast backdrop of that eternal night, the hum of the ship's machinery a constant, soothing drone beneath the cacophony of his thoughts. The silver pill case in his hand reflected the light of a nearby console, gleaming with a sterile brightness that made his skin crawl. He turned it over between his fingers, contemplating the small white tablets that represented his fragile tether to equilibrium.

  I've thrown aside my worries, but the cares they bite me back. I'm taking twenty vitamins a day, for the iron I lack.

  Stanford grimaced, the corners of his lips pulling downward as the familiar bitterness welled up in his throat. He tilted his head back and swallowed the pills dry, feeling them scrape down his throat as if rebelling against their purpose. Sustenance without substance, that was his life now. He no longer needed food to keep going, no longer needed the simple pleasures of living— he only indulged when he could remember to, when the aching loneliness hadn’t numbed his senses entirely.

  I don't need food I don't need sleep, don't tell me that I'm wrong! I don't know what I'm doing— But can you please just play along?

  The first decade had clawed at him with relentless, gnawing grief. Each year afterward seemed to find a new way to hollow him out, chiseling deeper into the marrow of his being until there was nothing left but the echo of old anguish. He would lie awake in the captain’s chair or pace the TARDIS halls, every footfall a metronome counting out regrets. Days would bleed into each other, a palette of shadows smearing over any sense of time. He’d stopped counting birthdays after the 200th, the last one he’d shared with Stanley.

  Why count when the numbers stretched toward an infinity he wanted nothing to do with?

  My head is made of flowers, and my body made of steel. Cause I can't think— Can't hear— can't feel!

  Stanford’s fingers flexed, muscles tightening and releasing as if testing the reality of their presence. The memories surged forward like a wave, unstoppable and suffocating— hands covered in grime and ash, eyes stinging from the smoke that rose like specters around him, the taste of iron sharp on his tongue. He had touched the stars, commanded them, until they burned him to cinders. His mind was an overgrown thicket now, vines of regret and bitterness weaving through every synapse, thorned reminders of a past he could neither escape nor amend.

  When he closed his eyes, he could see them— faces etched into the void, voices calling out in anguish as they fell. Each step, each choice, stained his path with crimson guilt. He felt like a monument to grief, immovable and ever-decaying.

  They say a picture's worth a thousand words, but I disagree. I can't imagine anything Cause I can't see!

  The doctor let out a breath that shuddered its way past his chest, eyes straying to the holographic stars projected across the TARDIS library. What he once chased with fervor and ambition had turned into an unyielding prison. The titles of “healer” and “teacher”, which once filled him with pride, now felt like weights dragging him deeper into the abyss. What good was saving worlds when he couldn’t save his own heart from splintering?

  I won't break the ice though what else Is there to do? Cause suffering in silence is better—

  He could scream, tear at the walls and curse the very fabric of the universe, but he didn’t. The tears had dried up centuries ago, leaving him a stoic effigy among the whirring consoles and glowing monitors. The charade was familiar— a smile that never reached his eyes, words measured and wrapped in carefully crafted ease. He was an actor in the greatest tragedy ever told, where the curtains never fell.

  Than suffering with you.

  The doctor’s gaze dropped to the leather-bound journal resting on the armrest of his chair, untouched for days. The pages within held maps of stars, sketches of constellations, and annotations written with a frantic hand, desperate to capture even a fragment of meaning. The room around him felt cavernous, echoing with memories of Dipper’s quick wit and Mabel’s bright laughter. He could almost hear them, almost see their shadows darting between bookshelves.

  But it was only him, just him, marooned in this endless stretch of time.

  So I jumped out with a parachute, but the ground caught me off guard. Karma for the rules I break, the ones I disregard.

  The temptation to go back, to step through rifts that bent reality and visit those moments, was irresistible. He’d done it before, left the TARDIS hidden among the trees and traced the familiar paths of Gravity Falls with trembling steps. His heart would clench as he watched past versions of himself and his twin squabble over nonsense, the cheery voices of his grand niece and nephew not long to join. Their voices carrying over the wind with the kind of ease that only came before everything shattered.

  I can feel the tension rising. What fate is worse than this? Stuck between the ones I love—

  He’d watch them, hidden in the shadows of his own memories, a ghost to a life he once lived. Cosmic rules be damned. He’d listen to the echoes of their laughter until it felt like it would break him, that painful, beautiful sound that underscored just how far he’d fallen. But even then, he would not dare approach, would not dare alter a single second.

  And the ones I miss.

  Stanford’s eyes shifted to the flickering flames of the library’s fireplace, its light casting restless, dancing shadows across the room. The orange glow did little to warm the chill embedded in his bones. How many Fords, across how many dimensions, would have craved this? A sanctuary lined with knowledge and power, the respect of entire galaxies balanced on a single whispered name— ‘Doctor.’ And yet, it was all as hollow as the space between the stars.

  My head is made of shrubbery, and my body made of stone. Cause I can't for the life of me— reap what I have sown!

  He tightened his hold on the armrest, the leather creaking under his grip. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It never should have come to this— sailing across time, trapped in a machine that hummed with its own form of loneliness, while he wore a mask that no one ever questioned. It felt like being both the sculptor and the statue, shaping and trapped by the life he’d carved out.

  They say a picture's worth a thousand words, but I disagree. I can't imagine anything, 'cause I can't see!

  The weight of immortality, once so alluring, now coiled around him like iron shackles. What did it matter if entire legions paused at the utterance of his name? What did it matter if beings far beyond human comprehension flinched at the sight of him? It meant nothing without the echoes of laughter, without the warmth of shared stories and the unspoken understanding of his family’s presence beside him.

  I won't break the ice though what else Is there to do? 'Cause suffering in silence is better—

  He filled the silence with companions, short-lived stars that burned bright and fizzled out too quickly. They were there, and then they weren’t. Time was relentless, wearing them down to memories while he stood unchanged. Each one chipped away at him, left him a little more hollow. His only true constant was Stanley, and even he didn’t know the full story. Ford wouldn’t let him, couldn’t let him see that far into the dark.

  Than suffering with you.

  The TARDIS thrummed, a soft, sympathetic sound that vibrated through his bones as if it, too, mourned the lives they’d shared and lost. Ford exhaled, the heaviness in his chest pressing down like a stone. He could carry this, he would carry this— because if there was one thing he’d learned in all these centuries, it was that some battles are never meant to be shared. Some wars are fought in silence, against an enemy that wore your face in the mirror.

  And if the burden grew too heavy, well— he was the Doctor. He would bear it alone.

  He had to.

  I try to sink and never float.

  Some days, the weight was manageable, a familiar companion that settled over him like a well-worn cloak. But tonight, the burden felt insurmountable, pressing against his chest until each breath tasted sharp, like the metallic tang of blood from battles fought too long ago to matter and yet too vivid to forget.

  Stanford’s eyes turned to the viewport, where the stars blinked back at him with their indifferent light. Once, those points of light had been symbols of promise, of adventure and uncharted paths. Now they were cold eyes watching as he drifted— an eternal voyager, bound by his own choices and the mistakes that clung to him like barnacles on a shipwreck.

  Cause my head is underwater.

  The doctor’s fingers found the edge of his sleeve, gripping it tight as though it could anchor him. The silence roared in his ears, the kind that made old wounds ache with the sharpness of fresh cuts. Memories of splintered wood and that familiar bite of ozone filled his senses. The frantic fight, the blinding light, the hole that had torn through his chest— a wound that should have marked the end. He let out a shuddering breath, feeling phantom pain coil around him like a serpent.

  I’m here by choice by my own hand.

  The most damning part was knowing that every fracture, every scar, was carved by his own hand. He’d walked into the chaos willingly, driven by an insatiable need to prove something— to whom, he couldn’t even remember anymore. A need that had led him to make choices that, at best, haunted him and, at worst, had cost him everything.

  I’m a lamb sent into slaughter.

  He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling the silver strands that had once been a youthful umber. The weight in his chest grew heavier, spreading through his limbs. He remembered the moment he’d sealed his fate with a handshake and a grin, signing away pieces of himself to a demon who promised everything and gave nothing but ruin. Even now, the jeers of that one-eyed triangle haunted the corners of his vision, mocking him with every beat of his undying heart.

  I’m aware of my own body.

  Every nerve ending screamed in protest as memories flared to life. The repair box’s nanobots— an endless legion that buzzed beneath his skin— worked tirelessly, a ceaseless reminder that he wasn’t wholly his own anymore. Some days, he could almost feel them moving, an itch he could never scratch. His hands curled into fists, knuckles turning white as he resisted the impulse to claw at the sensation, to rip it out and make it stop.

  I can feel beneath my skin.

  But he didn’t. He never did. The discipline of centuries held him captive, a slave to his own stoic facade. He swallowed hard, letting the tension dissipate as much as it ever could, settling like sediment at the bottom of his soul. The fire’s light flickered over his features, casting deep shadows that made his face look carved from stone.

  I can wash away my insecurities.

  He stood abruptly, the sudden motion sending a wave of dizziness through him. The doctor steadied himself against the back of the chair, eyes closing as he drew in a breath. The act was as much a ritual as any he performed— a way to wash the fractures of his spirit, to convince himself that he was still whole. But deep down, he knew.

  But can’t wash away my sin!

  No amount of time, no act of heroism, could ever cleanse the burgundy that stained his hands. It was a truth that gnawed at him, a constant shadow that whispered during his moments of quiet. He turned toward the shelves, running a finger over the spine of a book he’d read a hundred times but never truly absorbed. Knowledge without purpose— just like him.

  They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, but I disagree! I can’t imagine anything—

  The holographic stars in the library blinked and swirled, shifting constellations that once spoke of wonder and exploration. Now, they were a cruel reminder of all the places he’d been, all the faces he’d left behind. He raised a fist, hesitated, then let it fall to his side. He couldn’t even find the anger to break the illusion.

  Cause I can’t see!

  His vision blurred, not with tears— those had dried up long ago— but with the weight of exhaustion that pressed down on him like a vice. Every accolade, every whispered praise, fell flat, their meaning washed away by the tides of time and repetition. The applause of civilizations felt no different than the hollow sound of silence.

  I won’t break the ice though what else Is there to do?

  The cold chill crept into his veins, a familiar companion that had shared his endless nights. Yet, he dared not crack the veneer he’d cultivated— that smile, that reassuring nod. It was a mask, as impenetrable as the TARDIS walls. To break it would mean shattering the delicate balance that kept him standing.

  Cause suffering in silence is better—

  Stanford’s fingers brushed against the journal again, the touch almost reverent, as if it held the answers he’d long given up searching for. The one story he couldn’t write was his own— each word caught in the tangle of what-ifs and could-have-beens that ensnared his mind.

  Than suffering with you!

  He swallowed back the ache, pushing it down to the depths where it simmered and seethed. To bear it alone was better; it was safer. The doctor would stand, resolute and silent, a guardian of time burdened by its cruelest truths.

  And as the night deepened, the stars outside continued their silent vigil, unmoved by the man who carried the weight of universes in his lonely fractured heart.

Tell me what you think about these two! I've got more drabbles in store for them aside from the content already on both their blogs @gftimelord & @gftimelordstwin! Also posted here on Ao3!

[kiwiaok]

firm believer in neil josten having just as many issues with sex as andrew

[faaun]

i feel rly sad and conflicted abt one of my best friends on earth but idk who to ask for advice bc i usually would have consulted her in this situation lmao

[cacw]

i do still stand by this and it's kind of upsetting me they don't hate him but they really obviously dislike him and his place in the story

[marshmelonfluff]

also i have doubts that they would have tai feature heavily in a volume again but i really want him to meet up with the gang in vauco bc i want ruby to get a hug from her dad. please. just let this girl get a good cry in about everything she's been through and have her dad hug her afterwards

[exopelagic]

I wiped out so hard tonight my KNEES

[fingertipsmp3]

Guess who fucked up her knee again??? And AT WORK no less

[soupandsorcery]

Distracting myself from the everything of today by thinking about the differences in my two Rooks.

Mags is all bravdo and snark with actually very little other than odd amounts of good luck and stubbornness to back it up. He is not exceptional in anyway except that he doesn't know when to shut up or give up, and that has carried him through most of his life. He's also very easy to rally behind because he's surprisingly genuine and wants the best for the people around him. He's a good leader because he listens to and sees people, and that inspires them to want to join his cause. They also worry deeply that he's going to do something stupid and get himself killed. It's a fair worry.

Meanwhile Beaux is quiet and sweet. They're hardworking and have a very strategic mind. They dislike running headlong into danger without a plan, but they will if that's the only choice they're presented with. They're an excellent fighter and have trained hard with the Wardens because protecting people is very important to them. They take their oath very seriously. They're optimistic, even in the face of overwhelming darkness because they believe in the power of people helping each other find a way and are more than willing to lead by example. they're a good leader because they're strong and eager to right wrongs, and they see the little people caught in these conflicts and they work hard to make sure they're saved too.

[steveyockey]

To be aware you might be trans but unwilling to do anything about it is to create endlessly bigger boxes within which to contain yourself. When you are a child, that box might encompass only yourself and your parents. By the time you are a gainfully employed adult, that box will contain multitudes, and the thought of disrupting it will grow ever more unthinkable. So you cease to think of yourself as a person on some level; you think not of what you want but what everybody expects from you. You do your best not to make waves, and you apologize, if only implicitly, for existing. You stop being real and start being a construct, and eventually, you decide the construct is just who you are, and you swaddle yourself up in it, and maybe you die there. There is still time until there isn’t.

This reading of TV Glow’s deliberately anticlimactic, noncathartic ending cuts against the transition narrative you typically see in movies and TV, in which a trans person self-accepts, transitions, and lives a happier life. Owen gets trapped in a space where he knows what he must do to live an authentic life but simply refuses to take those steps because, well, burying yourself alive is a terrifying thing to do. The transition narrative posits a trans existence as, effectively, a binary switch between “man” and “woman” that gets flipped one way or another, but to make our lives so binary is to miss how trans existences possess an inherent liminality.

Humans’ lives unfold in a constant state of becoming until death, but trans people are uniquely keyed in to what this means thanks to the simple fact of our identities. You can get lost in that liminality, too, forever trapped in a midnight realm of your own making, stuck between what you believe is true (I am a nice man with a good family and a good job, and I love my life) and what you know, deep in your most terrified heart of hearts, is real (I am a girl suffocating in a box).

And yet if you want to read the film as being about the dangerous allure of nostalgia, you’re not wrong. I Saw the TV Glow totally supports that interpretation, too! But in tempting you with that reading, the film creates a trap for cis viewers that will be all too familiar to trans viewers. Somewhere in the middle of Maddy’s story about The Pink Opaque being real, you will make a choice between “This kid has lost it!” and “No. Go with her, Owen,” and in asking you to make that choice, TV Glow is simulating the act of self-accepting a trans identity.

See, the grimmer read of the film’s ending truly is a nihilistic one. It leaves no hope, no potential for growth, no exit. Yet you must actively choose to read that ending as nihilistic. If you are cis and the end of I Saw the TV Glow left you with a gnawing sense of dissatisfaction, a weird but hard-to-pin-down feeling that something had broken, and a melancholy bordering on horror — congratulations, this movie gave you contact-high gender dysphoria.

In an infinite number of possible universes, there is at least one where I am still living “as a man,” embracing my fictionality, avoiding looking at how much more raw and real I feel when I “pretend” to be a woman. I think about that guy sometimes. I hope he’s okay.

Consider, then, my cis reader, that TV Glow is for both you and me, but it is maybe most of all for him. I hope he sees it. I hope he breaks down crying in the bathroom afterward. I hope he, after so many years locked inside himself, hears the promise of more life through the hiss of TV static.

Emily St. James, “I Saw the TV Glow’s Ending Is Full of Hope, If You Want It to Be,” Vulture. June 4, 2024.

[misstycloud]

What about a yandere playboy x revenge-driven reader?

Yandere! Playboy is the guy on campus. How can he not be? He has everything a person could ever want. He is wealthy, handsome and has many friends. Best of all qualities; he’s great in bed.

Yandere! Playboy has been hitting beds for years now. He is young and has a right to live life to the fullest, so why shouldn’t he enjoy himself while he still can? His parents doesn’t approve of this behaviour but what can they do to stop him? Besides, he’s already told his father that he’ll find someone to settle down with when he’s older and fit to take over the company. He doesn’t want to lose the privileged life he has so it’s in his best favour to just do what his dad tells him to and find someone to marry later.

It wouldn’t reflect well on the company if its leader is a scandalous, immature playboy after all.

Yandere! Playboy who has been with most of the people on campus. The only exception are the ones he and his friends consider ‘too ugly’ or ‘just not up to standards’- which can be due to anything. It’s basically become a game by this point; who in the friend group can be the college’s number one player.

Yandere! Playboy who almost let his friend surpass him in that department. It was a close call. Good luck he found a cute girl in time so he could drive up his score just above his friend’s. He noticed her at a party. He hadn’t seen her around before so he guessed she was new. The girl looked very out-of-place, standing in a corner while everyone else were letting loose. Did she come alone? Whatever, it didn’t matter. Quickly he snatched her up. She definitely wasn’t the best he’s had, nowhere near it in fact. She was an average fuck at best. It was only after he’d brought her home and fucked her until she cried, that he realised his mistake. After the deed was done she was awfully clingy. She wrapped her arms around him and tried to nuzzle his neck, much to his dismay.

Yandere! Playboy hastily pushed her off and asked her what she thought she was doing. Confused, she responded that she just wanted to cuddle since what they did was so special. Oh no, he thought. She was one of those girls who thought hooking up once meant ‘relationship’. How could he be so stupid? He knew better than to take ‘sweet’ girls with him, they always ended up deluding themselves they were a couple. Sternly, he told her to get out. This made her confused and she wondered if she’d done something wrong.

“Yes, you’ve done something wrong.”

“What was it? Please tell me.” She whispered in a small voice.

He sneered at her. “You think we’re a couple now or some shit. Sorry to burst your bubble but we’re not together.”

The girl bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. “We’re…not? Then why would you-“

“-don’t think you’re special. I just didn’t want my pal’s fuck-score to get higher than mine and you were the first decent thing I could find.”

Afterward he kicked her out. He didn’t give a shit that she was crying. Her feelings didn’t matter to him. No one’s feelings mattered to him besides his own. It was her own fault for getting her hopes up. She was cute, don’t get him wrong. But she seemed way too much of a goody two-shoes for him.

Yandere! Playboy who went about life normally after that. Occasionally he did see his latest lay around campus but she never approached him, instead she chose to send him a sad glance now and then. Pathetic.

Yandere! Playboy had been so caught up with a bunch of school work, he swore the professors had it out for him. After all that tediousness he deserved a break. He needed to relax and there was only one way to do that correctly. Unfortunately his regular ‘buddies’ were unavaliable, he’ll have to find someone else tonight.

Yandere! Playboy who searched the room filled with dancing, intoxicated people. The constantly colour-switching lights made him dizzy. No matter how much he searched he could not see anyone who’d caught his interest. He was about to give up when someone finally got his attention. It was you. Gosh you were just gorgeous. Wow, he thought. He hadn’t seen anyone like you before. Luckily you appeared to notice him too. He seductivle licked his lips while staring into your eyes and was happy when you showed equal interest.

Yandere! Playboy who didn’t waste a minute and went right up to you. You were been hotter up close. This was going to be fun, he thought as he led you upstairs.

Yandere! Playboy was in shock. What the hell just happened? The morning light shone directly in his face but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. After he’d brought you to his room for what he’d imagined to be a usual fun night, he’d been fully surprised. You were nothing short of amazing. He couldn’t recall a moment when he’d ever felt so good. Usually he was the one to lead but you took over as if for was the most natural thing in the world. Never in his life had he been so thoroughly explored. The bruises on his body still ached when he moved.

He needed more.

Yandere! Playboy became obsessed afterwards. He had to see you again. All those years of sleeping around could never amount to the pleasure he felt that night with you and he desperately wanted to feel it again. Sadly, it was like you vanished. Did you not go to the same college? He asked around but no one knew you. Strange, he thought. Weeks passed and there was still no sign of you. He was incredibly pent up now. He had been focused on finding you that he hadn’t taken anyone home since. His friends thought he was acting way to obsessed with his random person and needed to calm down. Perhaps if he spent time with someone he’d cool off. They see him up to meet one of his regular ‘buddies’ who was more than happy to see him again.

Yandere! Playboy tried to recreate the experience with them but it didn’t work. They were all clumsy and didn’t know how to make anything feel good. He couldn’t even finish that time. Frustrated, he threw them out and told them he wanted to be alone. Why wasn’t it working? What went wrong? And why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about you? It made him want to tear his hair out.

While he was deeply grumbling about his newfound problem, he was interrupted by a knock on his door. He shouted at the person to leave him alone but the knocking didn’t stop. He ripped the door open and was prepared to scream at the other person when his eyes widened in surprise. He was speechless.

There in the doorway stood you. You gave him a wicked smile, “Can I come in?”

Yandere! Playboy practically became your dog after that. He knows your name now, (Y/n). He shudders just thinking about it. Turns out you do go to another college and you’re not the most social person which explains why no one had heard of you. Not only are you fantastic on the outside, he finds you to be a wonderful person too. The more you’ve hung out, the more he’s gotten to know about you. He currently knows these five things: you always have a way to make him laugh, you share many hobbies(some which he can’t talk about even with his closest friends), you value his opinion, never talk down to him, and he absolutely loves you.

Yandere! Playboy who immediately cuts off his previous hook ups. You’re the only one for him. There isn’t a soul out there who can be your match. All of his friends have become so annoying. All they say is about how much he’s changed and it’s crazy how he’s doing a complete 180 for one single person. He ignores them. If they can’t see how perfect you are then that’s their loss, and he can’t be friends with them anymore. The only ones happy about this change are his parents.

He recalls his father saying, “So you’ve finally decided to be a real man and stop with your foolishness.”

“Yes. I have found my one and only love, the person I’m going to marry.”

His father nodded. Yandere! Playboy smiled. He had all intention to follow up with his statement. He loved you and based of your reactions around him, he’d say you loved him too.

Yandere! Playboy who was all giddy as he waited for you at the restaurant you’d decided to meet in. You had been hanging out for months now and he thought it was time to ask you to be his official partner(future spouse). It was a perfect setting. He has brought a bouquet of flowers and put on nice clothes. The ambiance was just right.

He waited.

You weren’t there yet, but sometimes you ran a little late.

He waited some more.

You still weren’t there. That’s all right! He’ll sit there until you arrive.

He sat in his chair long enough to see the staff send him pitiful looks. Where were you? It had been far too long for you to simply be ‘running a little late’. Did you get into an accident? He prayed nothing had happened to you. Quickly he pulled out his phone and sent you a text. Or well, he tried to.

‘Unable to send message’

What? He didn’t understand. Why wasn’t his text getting through? Did you…block him? No that wasn’t possible. There was no reason you would do that. You loved him. He loved you. You wouldn’t block him. All of his attempts to contact you went into the garbage. When he called; direct to voicemail. He tried looking for you, although that proved to be a lot harder than he thought. It was then he realised he had no idea where you lived. You were always at his place and he never questioned it. He went to your college and asked if anyone had seen you but they all said they didn’t know anyone by the name of (Y/n) who went there. Did you lie about where you went to school?

Yandere! Playboy who became depressed. He couldn’t find you anywhere. You had vanished, just like before. Except this time you never came back. His head was filled with questions. Where were you? Are you safe? Why did you leave him? Didn’t you love him too? He fell into despair. His parents wanted to help him and so did the friends he abandoned for you (they came back, he couldn’t understand why), but nothing they did helped. They weren’t you.

Please come back to him, he needs you.

————

A/n: for clarification, the girl in the beginning is reader’s friend.

[feyascorner]

Okay perhaps this sounds odd but imagine Astarion starts to disassociate while intimate with Tav and so he uses their established safe word, only to be bewildered when Tav actually listens to him and stops and asks if he’s okay and tries to comfort him because nobody has cared that much before 😢

OH GODS WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME (i love it) warning for suggestive content :)

For as long as Astarion's been genuinely intimate with you, for no other reasons but simply because of the affection the two of you hold for one another, he has always been in control.

It soothes him, in a way, to be on top. And as much as he enjoys watching you come undone beneath him, there's a more frustrating reason behind why he always feels the need to be the one to push you down onto whatever surface he deems decent enough at the time. From above you, he can see every little twitch in your body, every shift in your expression, and most of all, he can control what's happening, unlike his centuries spent as a seductive tool for Cazador's own needs.

He knows you're not like those fools. He knows you're different, and you're special to him. But the gnawing voice in the back of his head always forces him to pull you in, to hold you closer, to make love to you.

It's fucked up in so many ways.

"I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."

But when you look up at him with those imploring, loving eyes, the voice seems to go quiet. He swallows the dryness of his throat, unable to think of anything but how wonderful your touch feels on his skin, and he thinks he could drown in this forever. He's putty in your hands, whether he wants to admit it or not.

"Well? Don't be a tease just standing there, darling."

In what feels like minutes, he's a mess. He's making sounds he shouldn't be making, fingertips digging into your hips as if they're the anchors keeping him from finishing too early. He breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, groaning when you caress the sharp tip of his ear between your fingers.

The only thing keeping him from spilling is the impending embarrassment he'd feel for doing so this early on in the night.

Then, everything stops.

"You're so beautiful," you whisper.

They're only words. They're not ones he's heard little of---in fact, he's heard it too much in the past two hundred years. In an instant, memories of the nights he spent under strangers, forced to shove his mind into its darkest corners just to get through their own pleasures, flood his consciousness. The sickening taste in his mouth afterward, and the need to rub his skin till it goes raw were not uncommon. It was routine. A sick part of his life that he'd rather forget.

You don't mean it the same way they did. They only said things like that because that's all they could say. They didn't know him as anything but the husk of a body he resided in. He knows you are saying the words to him. Not to his body but to the very person he is.

But the word comes spilling out his mouth, and immediately, you freeze.

You actually stopped.

Of course, you would. You're you.

"Are you okay? Did I do something?" you reach to cup either of his cheeks, and he stares at you as if you're a star that's fallen from the sky. He blinks, slowly.

"I don't know, I just---" he searches for words. "--you haven't done anything wrong, darling."

You wait for him to finish patiently. Gods, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you.

"I only remembered something I'd rather not," he plasters a crooked grin on his face. "It's quite alright. We can continue now if I haven't ruined the mood."

You pull away from him, and he fears you'll leave.

Moments later, you return with a glass of water. Wordlessly, you hand it to him, and he only stares at it, confused beyond belief. Only once he notices the way you gesture to the glass does he drink it, and you finally climb back into bed, lying down beside him.

"Come here," you open your arm, motioning him to come closer.

"Darling, as much as I'm all for experimenting, that's a strange position to have sex in."

You smile, shaking your head. You don't explain any further, only continuing to hold out your arm.

Hesitant though curious, he slowly lies down beside you, his head just above your chest and slotted between the space below your chin. With gentle hands, you pull him closer and toss the blanket over both of your bodies.

It's warm. Strange, but warm.

"You don't have to wear a mask with me," you whisper.

His eyes grow wide, and his chest stills. He doesn't have many tears left after 239 years, but there's an unfamiliar squeeze in his chest that tells him if he were still 39 and alive, he might have. Astarion wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into where he can hear the steady beating of your heart.

Later, when your eyes begin to droop, he mumbles.

"Tell me I'm beautiful again."

"You're beautiful," you say softly. "With or without your pretty face."

You might be imagining it, but you feel him smile against your skin.

[lymtw]

"Come here," Toji says, at the sight of the involuntary pout that works wonders to express your internal, dispirited mood. His attention is divided very unevenly between you and the movie playing on the TV, you holding the greater part of his focus. He's watching you for his own peace of mind, hoping that every time you take a break from the movie, to check your phone, you'll spare him a look. You've been quieter than he knows you to be, and you're not sitting even remotely close to him. He's on one side of the couch and you're on the other side.

A few seconds pass since Toji spoke up, and he wonders if you even heard him in the first place, because you didn't respond. He passes on repeating himself when you shift your eyes from the TV to meet his gaze, and though your gloominess isn't because of him, you can't offer him any sort of indication that you're good.

"Sorry, i'm not in the mood to take my clothes off, Toji," you say, your voice a gentle, pitiful excuse for sound. If your voice could be seen, it would be similar to the tragic way that grass blades slowly try to stand up, after being stepped on. If the sound of your voice could be felt, it would be the void-like, almost nauseating feeling in your stomach, that comes with ignored hunger. You sound detached from the bright person Toji knows, and clearly, you're not okay.

"I'm not asking you to undress yourself. I want you to come to me," Toji responds. "You're sitting so far over there, away from me, like I did something to you. For being the most reasonable person I know, this isn't fair, at all." His eyes stay on you as he awaits your response, but he is only met with the sight of you looking down at your hands.

"Be fair. You didn't help me get better at communicating, just to turn the tables on me like this." His tone is sharper, out of urgency. He wants to know what he can do for you, but it's hard to do that when you're there, yet, not there. "Just... come here, ma," Toji tries again, his voice a little softer and understanding. "Please. Let's talk about anything." He pats his thigh, directing you to one of the reserved spots he holds for intimate conversations with you.

You know Toji's stubbornness will not leave you alone. It's impossible to hide anything from him once he's onto you, so you stop prolonging the inevitable and silently do as he says.

You turn off the TV, before walking over to him and settling on his lap. You sit there, with a racing heart, because Toji's attention feels like a spotlight on you. His hands interlock at the small of your back and rest there, as he waits for you to say something. Silence invades the moment while you figure out where to start.

"What's wrong?" He asks, when there is no attempt to speak made by you. Immediately, your throat begins to ache, and your eyes start to sting. It's a question known for breaking people, and you're on the brink of becoming another victim. You think you can widen your eyes to keep them dry or blink away the tears, but the outcome doesn't favor you. Toji's hands shift so that they're splayed out on your lower back. They move up and down in soothing motions, as if he's trying to coax your strong emotions out with the comforting gesture. Like a gloomy sky finally giving in to rain, you cave in to vulnerability.

"Baby?" Toji calls, watching as sadness takes over your features. He sighs as he pulls your twinkly-eyed self into his tight embrace. He hates when you cry. The sound and the sight is the equivalent of pouring acid on his heart. It's torture for him to see that his baby, his sweetheart, his love, has been reduced to streams of tears, but he knows that getting it all out is for your own good. This is the 'alcohol in the wound' part of the process. You don't want to do it, but you'll feel better, afterwards. Just like a real physical wound, Toji will make you get it done. Scream if you must, curl into him like you are trying to go through him, he's not going to abandon you.

"Just breathe, sweet girl," he instructs, when he hears the heart wrenching sound of your stuttered breaths. "Breathe. Give me a good one," he says, rubbing your upper back. You inhale, the act still heavily stuttered, before you exhale. "Good. Again." You repeat the process and get the same trembling breath as a result.

"Fuck," you choke out. Your head feels like it's pulsing, your abdomen burns, your chest feels heavy, as if you have chains tightly wrapped around your torso, and your throat aches. It's all so overwhelming, you feel like there's a disastrous storm ruining you from within.

"Sweetheart, please breathe. You're gonna turn blue any minute now." Toji can't hold you any tighter without crushing you, but he wants to, so badly. This is the lowest he's ever seen you and it's killing him. He has never made you this upset. It's hell to even imagine what you must have endured to get to this point.

"You're safe. I have you," he says, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of your head. "I'm here, baby."

Toji's shoulder is damp from your waterfalls of tears and he can feel an excessive amount of heat radiating from your trembling body. Your crying ceases and all that can be heard are sharp, short inhales and puffs of air, as you try to regulate your breathing. Toji continues running his hands over your back, soothing the tired, tense muscles of your shoulder blades.

"We are gonna have to talk about this later, doll. I know that might not sound like the most fun thing to do, but it'll make you feel better. I want you to feel better."

Toji is mindful of your silence. He knows your voice isn't in the best condition to speak after your surge of emotions, and you're probably exhausted, but this isn't a dead end for him. He'll figure out your needs, and he'll take care of you. Anything to bring your happy, smiling face, back.

Toji allows you to pull away from his shoulder, and instantly takes in the sight of your pretty, ruined face. You don't look at him, and he assumes that your appearance is to blame. Your eyes, they're red and puffy, glimmering in the light with your now contained feelings, and you're still sniffing like you need to blow your nose. It's terrible to see you this way, but he would withstand much more than this, if you needed it.

"How does a bath sound, for now? A bath and then some food? You hungry, mama?" He asks, his expression involuntarily soft, as he runs the pads of his thumbs beneath your eyes, attempting to clean you up a little.

"No," you say, quietly, with the fragility that remains of your voice.

"I'm gonna pick up some food while you relax." Toji almost laughs at the subtle roll of your eyes. "That's my bad. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. You need to eat something."

He doesn't want to put you through any more stress, but when he needs to take care of you, during times like this, he knows what you need more than you do. Your reasoning is clouded by your emotions, and you'll let go of yourself, because your thoughts rewind over and over to what's plaguing your mind. Toji knows you'll be glad he did this for you when you feel better.

"Let's get that bath ready," he says, securing your legs around his waist, before he stands up from the couch. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck, and you breathe in his scent, until you reach the bathroom.

Toji flicks the light on and sets you down on the counter. A chaste kiss is pressed to your tearstained cheek, before he lets you go so he can prepare your bath. You turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror and hate the messy sight before you—the product of your meltdown. You turn on the cold water and splash some on your face, hoping to decrease the puffiness of your eyes, even just a little bit, while Toji is busy. You dry your face afterwards and check your appearance in the mirror, again, to clean up any remaining gunk in your eyes.

When you finish, you turn back, just in time to watch Toji rise from his knelt position by the bathtub. He makes his way back to you and stands between your legs, offering you a contemplative look, and a "hm" to go along with it. No words are exchanged when his hand reaches out to gently cup your jaw, allowing him to turn your head in any way he wants. He leans forward to examine you more closely, to check if anything is "broken". He can see you pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh, as he continues to snoop around.

"Oh," he says, like he found a cable that has simply been disconnected. He turns your head a little, and keeps inspecting the problematic area, building up the suspense for you. You couldn't say it, but him finding something scared you a little, considering you had just looked at your reflection and didn't see anything.

"Don't move, doll. I'll get it." His hand rests on your shoulder, the other on your thigh, as he leans in closer and closer, until his body heat coils around you. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck. It's featherlight, almost like a gentle breeze. Another one lands on the same area, then another, and another, until he hears your little laugh, a sound that brought both of you mutual relief. Your relief came from understanding that Toji didn't actually find anything off, while Toji's came from the miracle of him being able to make you laugh, after what went down not that long ago.

"Two seconds, ma," he says, beneath your ear. He pulls away from you and goes back to the now foam covered, sweet smelling bathtub. He leans down to turn the faucet off, and returns to you, afterwards.

"It's all ready for you," he says. A smile curls on his lips when you raise your arms, signaling for him to pull your shirt off. "You wanna keep your bra and underwear on?" He asks, as he pulls the hem of your shirt up. You nod, just before the material goes over your head. He sets it aside and helps you down, off the counter, so you can take your sweatpants off. You pull your phone out of your pocket and set it on the counter. Your fingers hook into the waistband of your sweatpants and tug downwards, until they just slide down your legs and allow you to step out of them.

Toji watches you carefully step over the edge of the tub, one foot sinking through the foam and into the warm water, followed by your other foot. You crouch down, slowly, until you are able to sit down and eventually lay back. You close your eyes once you're in a comfortable position and just let the warm water and the pretty smell work its magic on you.

Toji kneels beside you, and observes you in a more serious manner than before. His gaze lingers on those tired eyes of yours, for longer than any of your other facial features. Your eyelids are still swollen and the bags beneath your eyes are prominent. The longer he stares, the more he thinks back to how you were so distressed, to the point where you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. It scared him. He didn't get a single word about what was wrong, from you. You couldn't say anything other than that single curse, but even then, you sounded like you were being strangled by your own emotions.

Toji knows this is only a temporary fix— this calm sight of you resting in a bubble bath. Your feelings won't be swept under the rug, because he knows that if it were him going through this exact situation, you wouldn't just give him a hug and call it a day. No, when you take care of his mind and heart, you hold him in your arms and don't let go until he's the one trying to cage himself in your embrace when your arms loosen around him. You keep your voice at an intimate volume as you tell him about your day, because sometimes he isn't immediately ready to talk about what is bothering him, but he still wants to hear you. You cook for him, you give his tired body massages, you shower him with love and affection, and when he's finally ready to tell you what's going on, you listen closely to everything he has to say and you offer him your utmost support. You love and protect him to no end, and he has become shamelessly clingy towards you, because of it.

He wants you to feel as loved as he does. He wants you to know what it's like to experience the same level of care you give him. He may not be able to replicate it to a T, but he's willing to try for you.

"Hey," Toji calls, tenderly running the knuckle of his index finger back and forth, over your cheek. You hum, and blink open your eyes, giving him your attention. "I'm gonna go get us some food. Stay on the phone with me and keep me company until I get back, yeah?"

You nod. "Yeah, okay. Can you bring me my phone, please?"

Toji gets back on his feet and takes one large step towards the counter, retrieving your phone, before taking that same step back to leave it next to you, on the edge of the bathtub.

"Be right back, doll. Pick up the phone as soon as I call, okay?"

"Okay."

His hands grip the edge of the bathtub, to prevent him from falling in, as he leans in to peck your cheek once more. His weight shifts onto one arm so he can bring a hand to your face and rub the kiss into your skin with his thumb.

"Love you, ma."

"Love you, too."

With that, Toji stands up straight and heads towards the door. He takes one last look at your pretty face, before exiting the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He grabs his phone from the couch, his keys from the hook on the wall, and messily slides his shoes on, not bothering to put them on correctly, since he won't be getting out of the car, anyways. He secures the inside of the house, before heading out, and once he's outside, he finds his house key and locks the door. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes haste of clicking the phone icon, and then your contact, as he keeps walking to the car. His phone is now against his ear, and he listens as the line rings once... twice...

"Hi, Toji."

"Hi, baby."

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 off limits ¡

pairing brother's best friend¡nicholas chavez x fem¡reader

summary thinking you were messaging your friend, you accidentally sent your brother's best friend a thirsty paragraph about him, with Nicholas opening it before you get a chance to delete it. what you were not expecting was the leading conversation, causing realization to wash over you as he hints your desire is not one-sided after all.

contains suggestive, sexual tension, a bit of dirty talking, a brief kiss, flustered reader, cocky nic, hes also very freaky (uhh???)

a/n this is the silliest thing ive ever written i was giggling the whole time while writing it. likes and reblogs are v much appreciated!!!

word count 1.7k

You: the amount of self control i have is insane because why do i not have this mans dick in my mouth rn please i need nic so fucking bad its not even funny anymore he is everything i want in life id let him use me any day morning afternoon n night im available ugh i dont even get the ick when its him he was acting like a dad earlier yelling at us to grill the meat right and it was so adorable ill call you daddy u want me to call u sir i dont kink shame im down for whatever king omg stop he got hurt earlier and he GROANED???? i almost fell to my knees YAHOOO he definitely whimpers #needthat 10/10 i just know its thick ooh tip pink shade #d97e77 thats insane till my knees are bruised and my throats scratched my panties fell tears are rolling down my thighs OMG PLS can you feel my pain hes so bodangshis how does my brother look at him and not wanna fuck him id be all over him if that was my friend gahhhd!!! hes actually so sweet he kept speaking to me earlier so i dont feel left out of the conversation and i find that adorable do u think he slaps it before he cums oh my his girlfriends so lucky im ab to put her in a headlock ahaha this is gross no man should have this much of an impact on u unless their dick is big and the sex is absolutely amazing yooo what he probably knows how to please a lady id be hard if i had a dick rn STOPP he has a happy trail im gonna lose it hahah lets find out where it leads i dont wanna think ab that im going crazy literally pulling my hair out that should be u baby GIVE ME A CHANCE?!!!! thinking ab him makes me so nervous this is getting a little too srs ahaha okay im sorry hows life?!? i miss u :(

Sending that message, you were anything but expecting the response you got in return, not from the man himself, that’s for sure.

nic: oh?

nic: i think you got the wrong person

You audibly gasp, realization washing over you as you read over the message. That was, in fact, not for Nicholas, nor was it for anyone but your friend to see.

You panic, putting your phone down to process what happened, needing a moment before responding. Right, you needed to do that.

But why did he see it so fast? He didn't even give you time to comprehend your message, the text switching to read in an instant.

Hell, it was midnight, and it’s been a long, tiring day for the both of you, having been out the whole afternoon, merely to come back to the hotel and spend more time with your other friends.

Everyone decided to end the night off early; early being a bit before midnight, with you heading to your room afterwards. Your brother and his best friend shared the room taking place next to yours, making it easy to reach out to him.

And for that, you were grateful since Nicholas was with him; meaning you got to see more of him throughout this trip.

You’ve had a crush on Nicholas for god knows how long, with it starting the moment your brother befriended him. You’ve technically gone through all the phases he experienced, hell, you saw him more than your own parents.

He was sweet, a little too sweet, perhaps it bothered you. Nicholas was very known among women, he knew how to attract a lady, showering her with praises until he eventually got what he wanted.

That made you extremely jealous, knowing you couldn't have him. He was forbidden, off-limits, someone you could only admire from afar.

And that stupid crush of yours led to this conversation, one you didn't want to discuss.

You: i didnt mean to send that to you

The text switched from delivered to read right away, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

nic: clearly

nic: i dont have a gf btw

Why did he feel the need to clarify that, and why were you relieved over hearing it?

You buried your face in your pillow, feeling heat reduce from your body. You’ve never been this embarrassed before, not around Nicholas. While you were weird sometimes, it was never this bad.

He wasn't supposed to know about this, nor discover it the way he did.

You: cover your eyes pls

You: this wasn't for u

nic: you sure?

nic: are there any other nics in your life?

Your stomach twisted at the message, hand coming up to cover your mouth as an audible gasp escaped your throat. How could he say that?

You felt all sorts of emotions wash over you, unable to process each one of them as you read the message over and over again.

You: what if there is

The question was risky, it could either end with him telling your brother, or him teasing you over it and brushing it off. Either way, you couldn't have him, so why not just fuck it and go with the flow?

nic: then that would be disappointing.

Your breath caught in your throat, vision going blurry as Nicholas’ bubble kept appearing and disappearing.

nic: id really hate that you feel this way about someone else

Oh my god, were you dreaming?

You could not believe your eyes. You turned off your phone, letting the dimness of the room seep through for a moment before you unlocked your device once again, heart skipping a beat when you realized it was real.

Nicholas, your brother’s best friend, might have been flirting with you, but that’s just in your head, right…?

You: ??? wdym

nic: you first

nic: was this about me, doll?

The pet name made you weak to your core, spiraling you over the edge as you put your phone down for a second. You took a deep breath, feeling your face heat up at how suggestive the boy sounded.

He sounded so desperate, you weren't sure if it was the tiredness, or him being genuine. Either way, you’re fucked, because you’re willing to do anything for him, even if it means breaking your heart.

You: what if it was

You: what will you do ab it

You felt nauseous as you waited for a response, groaning when the boy disappeared for a minute. Did you say something wrong? Why did he suddenly leave?

nic: then id risk it all

Speechless. Your mouth hung open, chest filling with lust as a breath heaved out of you.

You: are you saying this because you’re tired

nic: no

nic: god no

There was no ounce of self control in your body left. You almost screamed, overwhelmed by a new sense of emotions.

Is this how it felt? Because fucking hell.

You: it is

nic: it is what?

You: this is so embarrassing

You: why are you making me admit it you know exactly what im talking about

nic: baby

nic: jus tell me

You: no you suck im going to sleep

nic: WAIT no come here youre so cute

You blushed at the message, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips. God, he’s such an idiot. And you were totally swooned for him.

You: i literally just sent you a message talking ab how much i wanna suck your dick what about that is cute

nic: oh? so you do admit it

You: …

You felt nervous, realizing how serious this has gotten. From a silly message turned into you contemplating whether this was a good idea. The last thing you were anticipating while typing that message was a confrontation, one from Nicholas; at that.

nic: you couldve told me yk

You: do you hear yourself

nic: ? what

You: nic you know this is wrong

You: youre gonna wake up tmr and forget all ab it

nic: you knkw

nic: yoirw so fucjinf hot

You came to a halt, noticing the amount of mistakes the boy was making. Your mind wandered somewhere else, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face.

You: what are you saying

nic: fucking hell

nic: take the hint baby

You froze in your spot, tongue coming out to wet your lips, suddenly feeling heat travel to in between your legs. Don’t give in, don't give in, don’t give in.

You: what

nic: you couldve asked me if you were curious

nic: i wouldve happily showed you

That sent you over the edge. Your mind went fuzzy, unable to process the last few texts you received from Nicholas. He was being serious, dead serious, you were sure of that.

The texts you exchanged always revolved around your brother; usually Nicholas asking whether he was home or not. However, this one was different.

He was hinting something, something very risky that you were unable to resist.

You: dont say that

nic: what, you don't believe me?

You: nic

nic: give me five

You stared at the message on the screen, confused on what he meant. Your eyebrows furrowed with puzzlement, awaiting a message, merely to get nothing in return.

As you were about to shut your phone and go to sleep, it pinged, the notification startling you awake. You clicked on it immediately, mind going hazy as you read the message over and over again.

nic: open the door

nic: im outside your room

You didn’t hesitate as you got up, swiftly walking your way to the door. You unlocked it with haste, vision going blurry as you caught sight of Nicholas, who was standing inches away from you now.

He looked just as desperate as you were, maybe even more. And that was it, it was all you needed to pull him by the collar and cease the distance between you two.

The moment his lips collided with yours, you realized that maybe it’s worth ending up with a broken heart, because Nicholas tastes fucking addicting, and you found every way to make good use out of that obsession.

The possession of knowing he’s off limits, yet here he was, eagerly kissing you numb.

[xosannie]

ateez’s reaction when you accidentally mark/scratch them bcs it feels so good and you just cant help it

☆a/n: sorry if this took so long I wanted it to be good🤞🏻also look at me posting fics back to back🤭

☆Genre: smut 18+ MDNI

☆Pairing: ot8xfem!reader

————————————————————

Hongjoong

He might not comment on it, but the feeling of pain definitely encourages him to keep going. Dare I say it turns him on.

~

It’s no surprise that Hongjoong likes to tease you. Giving you light touches and avoiding the area you need him the most, and if he does touch you where you crave him it’s at an agonizingly slow pace. So when finally, he has you pressed against the bed holding your legs open as he thrusted into you, you can’t help but gab onto whatever body part of his you can reach. In this case you hold onto his bicep, laying limp on the mattress as you let out whiny moans. It all just felt so good, finally having his cock slamming into you that you couldn’t help but drag your nails down his skin.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

You can feel his dick twitch in you and his hips drill into you at a faster pace (you didn’t know that was possible). In return he would lean down to dig his teeth in your neck, if you mark him he gets to mark you. You yelp at the feeling, clenching around his dick as you feel your orgasm creep up.

”You’re mine, remember that.”

If you had a dick you’d be so bricked up right now cause wtf he’s so hot for that.

Seonghwa

He doesn’t give it much thought when you scratch him, but once you start biting him… it’s game over

~

Seonghwa likes to hold you close while he fucked you, he loved the feeling of your skin rubbing against his as you moaned in his ear. In this particular situation you were trying to quiet down your moans while Seonghwa fucked you deep and slow. It was the middle of the night in your hotel room, you definitely didn’t want the other members sleeping next door to hear how good you were being fucked by their hyung. You held on to Seonghwa as your thighs trembled around him. You weren’t thinking when you suddenly dug your teeth in the crook of his neck to silent your moans. Seonghwa let out a choked moan and hips stilled as he pulled away slightly.

“Wait wait… don’t do that,” he whispered.

You looked up at him worryingly, afraid that you crossed a boundary you weren’t aware of.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I almost came,” he breathed out.

Holy fuck- YOU almost came after hearing that.

Yunho

He’s sort of in the middle ground, it doesn’t affect his deeply but he doesn’t hate it either. He does encourage it though, especially when he sees you resort to biting yourself.

~

You were always too scared to accidentally hurt Yunho during sex, you would just feel to bad. But you had this habit to want to bite on something when you felt too good. So when Yunho kneeled behind you while he fucked into you, you couldn’t help it when you raised your own hand up to bite down on it. Yunho noticed and he tsked at you, leaning forward so his chest pressed against your back. The new angle made you moan louder, this way Yunho was fucking even deeper in you. He reached forward to gently remove your hand from your mouth.

“No baby don’t bite yourself, here.”

He covered your mouth with his large palm, you were so fucked out that your brain didn’t fully process it when you bit down onto Yunho’s flesh. He grunted, kissing the side of your head.

“There you go, if you need to bite I’m right here okay?”

Afterwards, when you both finished and Yunho cleaned you up, you noticed the bite mark on his palm. You gasp, holding his hand gently to inspect the bite.

“I’m sorry baby, does it hurt?”

“No, it’s okay sweetheart,” Yunho chuckles.

You already felt a pang of guilt and Yunho noticed, cupping your face to reassure you.

“Heys it’s really okay baby, it honestly doesn’t hurt.”

“Are you sure?” “Yes I’m sure,” he kissed you softly. “Besides, it’s kinda cute when you feel so good you resort to biting.”

“If you call me cute I’ll get horny again.”

Yeosang

He doesn’t necessarily like the sting of the pain, but he wouldn’t want you to stop. He knows that if you’re marking him it means he’s doing a good job, and that turns him on.

~

Yeosang loved to pleasure you, one of his favorite ways was to have you sitting in his lap, back pressed against his chest as his fingers moved in and out of your hole. He loved to hold you, pressing soft kisses on your neck and cheek while you moaned at the feeling of his fingers fucking you. You threw your head back, resting it against his shoulder. You never purposefully hurt Yeosang, you weren’t thinking when you dug your nails in the skin of his forearm. He tries to hold back a whimper, pressing his lips together to keep the noise in.

“That feel good baby?” He asks in his deep yet soothing voice.

You nod eagerly, unable to form words from how good Yeosang fingers felt inside you.

“Yeah? I can tell. Mmm I love pleasing you.”

Of course after everything you apologize repeatedly while kissing the marks you left. He would just laugh and assure you that it’s okay.

“Don’t worry about it baby, you did it cause you felt so good. It means… I did good,” he says the last part shyly.

You pause at his words, heart exploding at how cute he looked.

“Im sucking your dick.”

San

He definitely doesn’t mind if you scratch or bite him, but his favorite if when you mark his body with pretty hickies. He loves the feeling of your tongue on him, lips sucking at his skin. It’s just so arousing and intimate.

~

You were just so horny, you haven’t seen San in days due to how busy he was. So when you both were finally alone, your grew too desperate when your soft kisses turned into a heated make out session. You both already tore each others clothes off before he pulled you closer to straddle his lap. You subconsciously rocked your hips against him, causing him to groan when he felt the way your wet pussy dragged against his bare thigh. He gripped your hips, guiding them back and forth making you to moan against his lips. You didn’t know if it’s because of how needy you were or if you’re just a sensitive slut, but the way your clit rubbed against the taut muscle made your head reel.

“I missed you so much baby, come on mark me up, let everyone know that I belong to you.”

You let out a small whimper, hiding your face in his neck to suck at his warm skin. You heard him groan at he feeling of your tongue, hands gripping tighter when he felt you nibble him just a bit.

“Yes there you go, good girl.”

”Call me a good girl again and I’m cumming on your thigh.” San laughs, placing a kiss on the side of your head.

Mingi

Honestly he doesn’t pay any mind to it since he’s too lost in the feeling of your warmth around his cock. Although, when he’s eating you out, that’s a different story.

~

You legs trembled around Mingi’s head as you entangled your fingers in his hair. The way he licked at your gushing hole while his long nose rubbed against your clit made your back arch. Your legs closed around his head but Mingi didn’t mind, he loved with when you trapped him against your pussy. You felt yourself getting closer to release, eyes rolling in the back of you head as you dug your nails in his scalp. Mingi whimpered against your core at the feeling, closing his eyes shut as you came all over his tongue. After your high was over, you realized how much you were hurting him so you massaged his scalp worryingly.

“Sorry Mingi, did that hurt? It just felt so good I couldn’t help it.”

“No don’t apologize,” he breathed out, pulling himself up to smash his lips on yours. You felt his throbbing cock press against your thigh.

“That was so hot, I want to fuck you but If I do I won’t last very long.”

Aaaand, you’re horny again :/

Wooyoung

Oh this man would looove it. He’s a pain slut just as much as you are. He loves the sting it feels good to him and he especially loves seeing the marks you left the next day. ~

You grasped tightly onto Wooyoung’s shoulder while you bounced on his length. He gripped your hips tightly, stilling your movement to drill up into your hole. You fell forward, hiding your face in Wooyoung’s neck as he grunted loudly. The feeling was so overwhelming you needed to ground yourself. You couldn’t help it when your nails scratched across his upper back leaving red trails on his tan skin. He moaned in your ear, hips stuttering for a moment.

“Do that again,” he commanded. You couldn’t comprehend what he said, getting lost at the feeling of Wooyoung fucking you just right. He slapped your ass making you yelp.

“I said scratch me again!” This time you did as you were told, scratching him without hesitation. The noises that came out of Wooyoung made you cum on his cock.

Like literally, you came so hard.

Jongho

He wouldn’t say much about it in the moment… but boy does it do something to him. He just doesn’t like to show it.

~

Jongho held your legs up while he thrusted inside you. You couldn’t stop squirming from how Jongho’s thick cock was hitting the perfect spot. You reached down, gripping his thighs and digging your nails in his skin just to drag it down scratching him. He would wince quietly but the sound would be drowned out but your loud moans. It wasn’t until hours later, when your both snuggled up on the couch after a shower that he speaks up.

“I really liked when you scratched me earlier.”

You turn your head to him, a little shocked by his confession. His gaze didn’t even meet yours, still fixated on the TV screen

“Really? I felt a little bad when I saw the mark I gave you when we were showering.”

“No don’t feel bad, keep doing it from now on.”

He pulled you in closer and you smiled at his attempt to sound nonchalant.

“Whatever you say bear,” you kissed his cheek and he fought back a smile.

Why was he so cute? :(