#but still incredibly disappointed in this attitude

[clood]

on this day of me making all of the posts, i opened up east of eden to remember i had stopped on this specific page to talk briefly about the following paragraph:

“What freedom men and women could have, were they not constantly tricked and trapped and enslaved and tortured by their sexuality! The only drawback in that freedom is that without it one would not be human. One would be a monster.”

this is from john steinbeck’s east of eden, published in 1952.

in reading these lines for the first time i felt so disappointed and alienated, and then for a moment i was like, “oh well. this was published in the 50s!”

the trouble is, the sentiment toward asexual folks and asexuality still remains largely the same: we are told we are not normal, we are weird, some might even go so far as steinbeck did and call us inhuman. and shit like this hurts!! whether you see it in a book by an author you love or on your dash in the year of our lord 2023.

to my fellow ace friends, we’re fine just the way we are. we’re wonderful, even!!

idk why i’m really even making this post but like. i had to stop and read the paragraph out loud and process it and feel it, so i guess you do too??? support your ace and aro friends.

[carlyraejepsans]

you've made posts before about shipping charisk, but toriel is frisk's mom pretty much and chara was considered a member of the dreemurr family (frisk can call them mom, she calls frisk "my child", and she adopts them on the surface in some playthroughs) (it's said that chara and asriel were "like siblings" and it's implied that the "mr. dad guy" sweater that asgore owns was made by chara)

i am feeling like "oh no, if this person realizes that the characters they are shipping together are pretty much siblings and is doing it anyway, i will be disappointed and will have to stop liking their cool art" so i am really hoping you just do not realize

begging you people to go outside

[caifanes]

me when i start watching a new anime and am disappointed: i take back every mean thing i said about dr stone it’s actually a masterpiece

[reidsworld]

Patience Wears Thin

Summary: Logan’s flirty behaviour has you thinking he’s just being sarcastic. But when his attitude changes and his grumpiness intensifies, leading to him avoiding you, you confront him, only for him to finally snap. Based on this request.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Mutant!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Reader’s oblivious, mild language, sexual tension, slight jealous!logan, making out, hickeys, oral sex(m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), creampie, (semi) public sex (you’ll see what I mean), no use of Y/N, pet names (darlin’) — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!

Word Count: 2.9k

Mars speaks… It's been a while since I’ve posted but here we are!! Thank you for the request, this was kinda tough for me to write and didn’t really turn out how I wanted it but I hope it meets your expectations! The reader is a mutant but her powers aren’t specified. Any and all feedback is always appreciated!

Masterlist

You were used to Logan’s gruffness, but lately, something had changed. At first, it was little things—him hanging around more often, offering to help with tasks that didn’t need his strength, or staying close by even when you were just making coffee. You noticed the way his hand would brush against yours when passing you something or how he’d rest his hand on your shoulder a little longer than necessary. Despite all of his actions, he was still cold around you, seemingly never able to escape his own grumpiness.

One evening, as you were getting ready for a date, Logan wandered by your room. His mood was clearly off as he knocked leaned against your door frame, his eyes closed and head tilted down. When you greeted him, he slowly looked you up and down. His expression shifted from frustration to shock as he took in how stunning you looked.

“Damn,” Logan said, his voice cold and deep, if you didn’t know him, you would’ve sworn he hated you. “You look incredible. Got a big night planned?”

You glanced up from the mirror, surprised by his comments. “Oh, I have a date tonight,” you replied with a smile, still adjusting your dress.

Logan’s eyes darkened slightly as he processed your words. “A date, huh?”

“Yep,” you said, focusing on your reflection. “I’m just trying to pick the right outfit.”

He pushed himself off the door frame, his gaze still fixed on you. “You don’t need to be worried about impressing anyone tonight, darlin’. Trust me, you look incredible.”

You laughed, thinking he was just being his usual flirtatious self. “Thanks, Logan. But it’s just dinner. Nothing too serious.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he took a step back, his demeanour now distant. “Right. Well, have fun.”

You smiled at him, not noticing the shift in his attitude. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

As you left for your date, Logan watched you go, his face a mask of frustration and disappointment. The knowledge that you were going out with someone else hit him hard, and his mood darkened.

You were left puzzled by his sudden change in behaviour. However, in Logan’s mind, if you were going out with someone else, you clearly didn’t want him, so why should he put effort into a losing game?

But you didn’t think much of his compliments, chalking it up to Logan trying to be supportive. Until one day, you noticed something different—he started avoiding you.

It began with him skipping out on the usual training sessions you shared. Then, he stopped joining you for movie nights in the common room, always coming up with a vague excuse that didn’t make sense. He’d disappear for hours, not even leaving a trace of his familiar scent behind. The final straw was when he didn’t show up for your breakfast dates (well… that’s what they were to him), a ritual he never missed. It was confusing, and you couldn’t figure out what had changed.

You asked him once, in passing, if something was wrong. His answer was clipped, dismissive. “Nothin’ for you to worry about, darlin’.”

But you were worried. His behaviour was off, and no matter how much you replayed your interactions in your mind, you couldn’t pinpoint what had triggered this sudden shift.

A few days later, you walked into the kitchen to find Logan grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Relief washed over you—this was the first time you’d seen him in days without him immediately bolting. But when you greeted him, he barely grunted in response, not meeting your eyes.

“Logan, seriously,” you said, trying to sound casual but unable to keep the concern out of your voice. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me.”

His jaw clenched, and he didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the bottle in his hand. “Just been busy.”

“Busy?” You frowned, crossing your arms. “Too busy to even say hello?”

He looked up at you then, his eyes hard. “Yeah, busy. I don’t have time for games, alright?”

“Games?” you echoed, thrown off by the accusation. “What are you talking about? I’m not playing any games, Logan.”

He let out a frustrated huff, shaking his head as he pushed past you, brushing your shoulder as he went. “Forget it.”

That was it? He was clearly upset, but he wouldn’t talk to you about it. It didn’t make sense. You stood there, staring at the spot where he’d just been, confusion and hurt swirling inside you. Logan was the last person you expected to act like this—especially toward you.

A few more days passed, and the tension between you only grew. Logan’s avoidance became more blatant, and every time you tried to approach him, he’d find a way to leave before you could say anything. You started to wonder if you’d done something to upset him, but every time you asked, he brushed you off with a noncommittal grunt or a sarcastic remark.

It was driving you crazy.

Now you were sitting alone in the common room, you and Logan somehow being the only two in the mansion with everyone else out on various missions and overnight school trips. As you attempted to watch a movie to take your mind off things, Logan’s absence gnawed at you. He was always here for movie nights, even if he’d just sit silently in the corner. The emptiness of his usual spot was glaring, a constant reminder that something had shifted between you.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to confront him, to find out what the hell was going on.

When you walked into the gym, your eyes immediately found Logan, his muscular form sitting on a raised bench, sweat glistening on his skin. He didn’t acknowledge your presence, focusing on his workout with an intensity that made your stomach twist.

“Logan,” you called out, your voice firmer than you felt.

He paused, setting the dumbbells down with a heavy thud before finally looking at you. “What?”

“What is your problem?” you demanded, stepping closer, not giving him a chance to escape this time. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague, and I want to know why.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat off his face. “Maybe I’m just tired of tryin’,” he muttered, his voice low.

“Trying what?” You crossed your arms, frustration boiling over. “Logan, you’re not making any sense. You’ve been acting like I did something wrong, but I don’t even know what that is!”

His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place—anger, maybe? But there was something else too, something deeper that made your heart race.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he growled, stepping closer to you, his presence overwhelming.

“Get what?” you shot back, refusing to back down even though his proximity was making it hard to think straight.

Logan huffed, his hand running through his hair in a rare display of frustration. “I’ve been tryin’ to show you, but you’re too damn blind to see it.”

“Show me what?” You were at your wit’s end, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

His eyes bore into yours, intense and unyielding. “That I want you, darlin’. I’ve wanted you for a long damn time, and I’m sick of you not seein’ it.”

You stared at him, stunned into silence. This was the last thing you expected him to say. Logan—gruff, no-nonsense Logan—wanted you? The thought was so far from anything you’d ever imagined that you couldn’t even process it.

“You…you want me?” you finally managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the frustration in his eyes palpable. “I’ve been tryin’ to show ya, but you keep thinkin’ I’m just bein’ a grumpy bastard.”

You blinked, completely floored by his confession. “Logan, I…I didn’t know. I thought…”

“Thought I was messin’ with ya?” he finished for you, his voice rough, almost bitter. “That’s why I’ve been avoidin’ ya—figured if you couldn’t see it by now, I was just wastin’ my time.”

The weight of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. You hadn’t seen it, not because you didn’t want to, but because the idea that Logan could feel that way about you seemed impossible. And now, standing here, with him staring at you like you were the only person in the world, you realised how wrong you’d been.

“Logan, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest. “I didn’t know. I never thought…”

“Don’t apologise,” he cut you off, his voice softer now, but still edged with frustration. “I’m just done waitin’, darlin’. I can’t keep doin’ this—dancin’ around it, hopin’ you’ll figure it out.”

You took a shaky breath, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to think. “What do you want, Logan?”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a way that made your knees weak. “You, darlin’. I’ve always wanted you.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, rough and demanding, as if he was trying to make up for all the time lost in that one kiss. The force of it stole your breath, your hands automatically reaching up to clutch his shoulders as you kissed him back just as fiercely.

Logan’s grip on you tightened, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing your lips until you parted them, letting him in. The taste of him—smoke, whiskey, and something unmistakably Logan—filled your senses, making your head spin.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his breathing ragged, his pupils blown wide with desire. “Still think I’m jokin’?”

You shook your head, your heart racing, your thoughts scattered. “No,” you breathed out.

“Good,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours before he started kissing his way down your jaw, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. “’Cause I’m gonna show you exactly how much I want you.”

His mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin before he bit down gently, making you gasp. Your hands fisted in his shirt, needing something to hold on to as his hands moved to your thighs, lifting you and moving to sit on the bench. Your legs desperately straddled him, pulling him closer.

Logan’s hands were everywhere—sliding under your shirt, tracing the curve of your waist, skimming up your ribs, his touch igniting a fire in you that you hadn’t realised was there. He was careful, almost reverent, despite the rough edge to his movements, as if he was holding himself back from completely losing control.

When his hands found your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through the fabric of your bra, you arched into him, a whimper escaping your lips. He growled, the sound low and primal, as his mouth found yours again, his kiss fierce and demanding.

You could feel the hardness of him pressing against your core, the friction sending waves of pleasure through you, and you couldn’t help but rock your hips against him, seeking more.

Logan’s response was immediate, his hands gripping your hips as you ground against him, his mouth devouring yours as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You were lost in the sensation, in the heat and the intensity of him, and it was all you could do to hold on.

Just when you thought you might lose yourself completely, Logan pulled back, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild as he looked up at you. “Tell me to stop,” he rasped, his voice strained, as if it was taking everything in him to hold back. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

But the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. You shook your head, your voice breathless as you whispered, “Don’t stop.”

Logan let out a low, feral sound, his lips crashing against yours again as he ripped off your shirt. His patience had worn thin, and now there was no turning back. As your lips roughly moulded together, tongues battling for dominance, your hands slid under his tank-top, brushing over his abs. You pulled away, taking off his shirt, jaw dropping at the sight of his glistening body from the sweat of his workout.

“Holy shit, you should be shirtless more often…”

He didn’t respond, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. Your hands trailed down his chest, fingers sliding down his happy trail. Climbing off him, you dropped down to your knees in front of him. He raised his hips as you pulled down his sweatpants and boxers, his dick springing out and slapping against his stomach.

You didn’t give him time to process what was happening as you immediately licked a stripe up his dick before taking the head into your mouth, tongue brushing against the tip, making him throw his head back against the bench and groan.

Your hands gently massaged his balls as your mouth focused on the head of his cock, gently sucking as his hand moved to gather your hair into a make-shift ponytail. You lowered your head, taking more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks.

Looking up through your lashes, your eyes met with his while you began to move your head up and down faster, your hands touching whatever couldn’t fit into your mouth. You continued this until your jaw was aching and his dick was twitching in your mouth.

He began to gently thrust into your mouth, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. One of your hands slid down into your shorts, rubbing your clit before pushing a finger into your dripping pussy.

“Fuck, so good darlin’,” he grunted as you moaned around him, slipping another finger into yourself.

“If you don’t stop now, m’gonna cum, wanna feel you ‘round me.”

He pulled you off of him, revelling in your dishevelled appearance. You stood up, and pulled off your shorts and panties. You reached behind you, unclipping your bra, letting it slide off your body. His eyes trailed up and down your body admiring you. You bit your lip at the way his eyes shined with something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on but you never wanted him to stop looking at you like that.

You silently moved to straddle him, pulling him into a slow kiss as your bare core grinded against his cock. One of his hands wrapped around you, trailing up and down your back as you both sat there, grinding against each other. His other hand reached down and grabbed your hip.

You raised your hips as you reached for his cock, positioning at your entrance before slowly sinking down onto him. You leaned forward and he fell back against the bench and buried your face in his neck, letting out a simultaneous moan as you stretched around him. You stayed still, adjusting to his size, panting into his neck, making him harder than he thought possible.

Once you were ready, you slowly raised your hips before sinking back down onto him. His hands moved to grip your hips as you began to ride him, gently helping you. You kissed him roughly, moaning into his mouth as his hips thrust up to meet yours.

The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the loud moans and groans coming out of your mouths. In that moment, neither of you cared where you were— that there was a chance someone could easily walk in on you even though it was just the two of you in the mansion. All you two cared about was the feeling of him inside of you and how you wrapped so tightly around him.

He let out a rough groan as your lips met his neck, biting into it when his hips met yours. Bouncing on his dick, you clenched around him, making him let out an almost feral sound.

“Oh fuck don’t stop, wrapped so tightly ‘round me, s’like you were made for me.”

“‘M all yours, Lo.”

“Shoulda never avoided you, shoulda just manned up and kissed you, ‘stead of waiting ‘round for you to realise that I want you.”

If you weren’t so desperate for him, you would’ve laughed but all you could do was moan and nod into his neck.

“‘M gonna cum, Lo.”

“Give it to me, darlin’.”

His hand reached to roughly circle your clit, sending you over the edge. You moaned out as a feeling of ecstasy overcame you and your vision went white. Your body slumped against his but his thrusts were relentless. As they got sloppier, you could feel his dick twitch inside of you, making you moan.

“I’m so close, need to cum inside you.”

His mouth pressed against your neck, marking you like a blank canvas for everyone to see later. He pounded up into you, his hand still rubbing your clit causing you to cum for a second time. You tightened around him, making him shoot his cum deep inside you.

His thrusts slowed, fucking you through it as you both panted, trying to catch your breath. His movements came to a stop and he titled his head back, letting out a deep breath.

You raised your head, looking into his eyes and laughing,

“I can’t believe I could’ve had this so much sooner if I wasn’t so obvious.”

Mars speaks… (again) woah that got… 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

Tags… @pastelpinkflowerlife

[mypussytasteslikeharibo]

Tight plans

Summary: Viktor buys Reader a nice little (lacy) present. They discover it while Viktor is still working hard at the lab. Maybe they put it on to see if it fits.

No gendered pronouns used for reader. Afab reader. Not proof read, no guarantee for quality oops

Notes: I'll probably do a part two, depending on how fucked my time management and sleep schedule is going to be the following week. Sorry about the language, I'm not a native speaker. My English professor would be disappointed at my use of inverted sentence structures. I'm sorry. You'll see me again next semester still. Anyway, have fun everyone! Hope you'll never be able to wear tights again :)

It's not unusual for Viktor to be home late from the lab. He's always working hard, that's what you love about him. His attitude towards his passion and his great mind to match it make him as endearing as he's always been to you.

What IS unusual though is the present sitting on your bed. No special occasion. Did you forget your own birthday? No. You might be getting slower but not that slow. Maybe it's meant for someone else. But you throw that idea out of the window as you're holding a small card in your hands, spelling out your name and signed by your loved one with a Love, Viktor.

Well. As it's not an anniversary, and there's not been any big, big news about his or your work either, you decide to just open it. If it was a bomb then Viktor probably had his reasons to blow you up anyway.

You unravel the bow on top of the golden present, hands slightly shaking in anticipation. You wonder what could be inside? Maybe it's the earrings you've looked at longer than necessary at the shop three weeks ago, or a useful tool for your work in the lab. Even though that would not require a bow as decoration. It would've been enough to just... Lay it on your desk and let it find it's way to you while you're working.

But no, it is instead... A pair of tights. Well even with winter on the way, these tights are not made for cold weather or even day to day going out, no matter the season.

Made of black net, with an artistic rose pattern on the back of the calves and sitting at an angle that makes the seam disappear into your ass, these tights can only have one use.

They're... sexy.

A shudder runs through you. There has to be an explanation to this.

Yes, you and Viktor have been together for a few months now and it's going amazing. He's affectionate, he's gorgeous and he understands you better than anyone else in this whole city, if not world. You love even his droopy morning faces or his annoyed expressions when he comes home frustrated after an unsuccessful lab day. But what you love most, right now at least... Yes, well, it's the sex.

You've been with people before and you've had great sex before. But for Janna's sake, the way this man makes you quiver under his body while he fucks into you like a machine built only for one purpose and one purpose only, it drives you insane. He isn't rough but loving in a way that still makes you see stars for the next hour.

So you are not only confused at the reason for this kind of foreplay but also incredibly and utterly horny about it. The thought of Viktor having to shop at a store and pick out this pair of tights specifically for you, paying for them with his hard earned money while he thinks about you and the way you would look in these tights... Him having to plan when and where to give these to you and ultimately deciding on leaving them on the bed while he's at wor-

He's at work. He's at work, knowing that you'll be home earlier than him. He knows that you will unpack this present as soon as you see it, knows that you get too impatient otherwise. And he counts you opening it without him, alone. In your bedroom, right in front of your bedroom mirror. He's thinking about you, seeing these tights and figuring out all of his plans, even playing along with them.

He knows that you will put them on and he knows that you will be waiting for him at home.

Your pussy pulses.

To think that this is the same man that couldn't hold your hand without getting crimson red ears four months ago.

A shudder runs through you. You don't even know what to do. Viktor could be home anytime but he could also stay at the lab for two more hours. It would be nonsensical to put on these tights without him here, just walking around in them without him there, knowing that he pictures you in them but doesn't see them until he's finished at the lab-

Ah, yes.

That makes sense.

It is slightly cool in the apartment when you take of your clothes bit by bit. It's not that you're freezing or anything. You're cold but it's not uncomfortable, it's... ironically, very hot.

You can feel your nipples getting hard underneath your lace bra.

You've put it on since you've had plans of your own on your way to Viktor's place. It doesn't help that your skin feels overly sensible right now. The thought of Viktor thinking about you at this very moment and what you could be doing in his bedroom without him there to observe...

It drives you crazy.

It tingles at the spots where your bra meets with the sensitive skin of your nipples. You can feel your pussy getting wetter by the second, pulsing to your heartbeat. All you can think about is Viktor, his hand on your lower stomach, your tits, your throat, the other directing itself to your burning core, only waiting to be touched by his calloused hand-

You snap out of it, panting. You've not even finished undressing, let alone putting on the beautiful pair of tights driving you crazy right now.

You wonder what his reaction will be. Before you lose yourself in thought again, you decide to finally let this pair of art decorate your body as you wait for the artist to arrive.

You bunch up the fabric until it reaches the toe end of it. Slowly, you let the toes of your right foot enter the smooth net. It stretches beautifully around your foot and spreads up your calves. As it reaches your knees, you see how the pattern paints the back of your calf with black roses and thorns. They follow your hand up to the start of your thighs, as you become a hot mess again.

It is as thought they are his hands wandering over your body. His eyes following every movement your hands make up your body, landing on your inner thighs and the burning desire waiting between them.

What a cruel man to do this to you.

You continue. The tights crawl up your thighs as you enter with your left foot. The same torturous process plagues you until both ends off the tights have reached your hips. At this point you've reached the part where the tights should end and close at your waist.

Instead they continue.

They're not normal tights.

Pulling them further up, you realize that these tights also double as a lace bra. They are as see-through as the rest of the tights but they also repeat the pattern from the calves in the stomach, leading up to your breasts. So you take of your own lace bra, letting it fall to the floor as you don't expect Viktor to have a problem with that later on. He would probably be too distracted to notice anyway.

As you lay the fabric down onto your breasts, one by one, you shiver from the sensation. The pattern and the lace of the fabric stimulate your hardened nipples and make you yearn for a hand similarly stimulating as the pattern, smelling of cologne and freshly brewed coffee.

The fabric closes in the middle of your breasts, creating an oval hole on your stomach. Not only does it look incredible, it also grants easy access for... Later activities.

As you put the straps of the tights on your shoulders, you turn to the mirror standing in the corner of the bedroom. The view makes you gasp. Not only that you feel so hot and ready to be banged against all surfaces of the apartment, you also look unbelievably lewd. It's not something you're used to but it makes you feel powerful. Like you're a goddess waiting for her pray to seduce. Letting your eyes wander across your breasts, your stomach, your hips you turn to look at your ass, which looks fucking burning hot.

But you also notice the hole cut into it.

Hm.

You can feel how wet you are without touching yourself. The anticipation is wrecking your body apart. How much longer is he going to take to come home? You can't walk around like this for hours. It would drive you to the brink of insanity.

You run your hands down your breasts, your sides, your stomach. You can barely touch your thighs before your knees buckle. As you turn your ass to the mirror again, your hands follow your direction. You massage it, feeling the net prickle at your skin and sending irritating shock waves towards your wet pussy. It is driving you bananas.

You bend forwards, looking back to your ass. As you actually see how wet and hot you are between your legs, you clamp your knees together from all the arousal. How can this little piece of fabric make you feel this unbearable way?

As the mirror stands directed towards to bed, you get up on the edge of it on all fours. Bending down your head, shoulders and upper back to the soft plush of Viktor's bed, you look back towards the mirror again.

Wow.

You've never seen yourself in this kind of state before. As you're only hearing your heart beat and your own panting, you don't even register the door keys turning in the front door.

"My fucking god."

You sit up out of surprise.

"No, no please stay like that! My love, you are simply..."

He sighs from endearment.

"...enthralling."

You blush. How come you still blush at his compliments seven months into dating?

"Well-" you lay down your upper body again. "-you were the one who chose and bought this for me, correct?"

You spread your legs just a little wider.

"Frankly, I feel like I should thank you for this gracious present."

You lock eyes with him while running a finger down your dripping pussy.

"How may I repay you, Darling?"

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/n: Hope you enjoyed this small... Whatever this is :) I'll try to do a part two soon. Hopefully ruined your night with this open ending, let me know if so. Love you xoxo (no, I don't have any lacy underwear to give you)

[chosok-amo]

MACARONS .ᐟ

suguru g. satoru g. you're almost nine months pregnant and craving for macarons that suguru brought for you, you've been waiting for a long time to eat them, but that seems impossible if you have a sweet tooth for another husband.

as you descended the stairs with hopeful anticipation, thoughts of the sweet macarons suguru had painstakingly waited in line to dance in your mind. each step was a reminder of your heavy, pregnancy-laden body, your back aching and feet protesting with each movement. the promise of those delicate treats provided a rare moment of solace in an otherwise physically taxing day.

entering the kitchen, your heart sank as you noticed the empty space where the box of macarons should have been. a rush of emotions flooded over you—frustration, disappointment, and exhaustion all mingled together.

“satoru!” you called out, your voice carrying a mixture of accusatory anger and hurt. deep down, you knew exactly who had likely devoured the macarons, given satoru's notorious sweet tooth.

your call immediately brought satoru to the kitchen, his steps echoing loudly with a certain sense of guilt to it. he knew exactly what you were talking about, especially with that certain tone you used to call him.

he leaned by the wall, a few feet away from you, shoving his hands inside his pockets. “yes, my lovely wife?” he said with a cheeky smile, playing dumb with full knowledge of what he has done. tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to hold back your emotions. “you ate them, didn’t you?” you accused, your voice trembling with a mix of sadness and frustration.

satoru's smile turned into a smirk as he saw the tears forming in your eyes, as sadistic as it may be, he found it incredibly cute of you whenever you cried, especially if he's the reason behind it.

he slowly strut towards you, taking a step every few seconds, his hands still inside his pockets. “i have no idea what you're talking about, my love,” he said, trying to feign innocence while standing right in front of you, looking down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to express the depth of your disappointment. “satoru, do you have any idea how much I was looking forward to those? my back hurts, my feet hurt, and it's so hard for me to even walk, and now... now this,” you choked out between sobs.

satoru's playful attitude faded slightly as he saw the tears streaming down your face. while he enjoyed teasing you and provoking your anger, seeing you upset like this tugged at his heartstrings a little.

he let out a sigh, reaching out and gently wiping away your tears with his fingers. “i'm sorry, bunny. i couldn't resist the temptation, they were just so good.”

he moved his hands to your waist, gently pulling you closer to him, his voice softening as he spoke. “i didn't think it would upset you this much.” before he chuckled and pinched your chin, tilting your face to look up at him. “you're overreacting a little bit, aren't you? it's just a box of macarons,” he teased, a playful smirk still plastered on his face as he takes a few steps back.

your frown became visible and deeper each second you looked at satoru's expressions like he was not feeling guilty for making you cry but instead making fun of you for it. “it's not just a box of macarons, suguru got it for me and he waited a long time in line for it,” your voice starts to rise.

he continued to smirk as he watched tears flow down your face, his grip on your chin tightening slightly as you raised your voice, clearly getting annoyed, which only amused him more.

“yes, yes, i know.” he said, feigning sympathy, his tone mocking. “and all that effort was wasted because i finished them.” he continued to taunt you, reveling in your distress.

suguru, hearing the commotion, hurried into the kitchen, his expression concerned as he assessed the situation. “what's going on?” he quickly walks close to you and wraps his arm around your waist to wipe your tears away you turned to him, tears flowing freely now. “he ate the macarons, suguru. the ones you waited in line for,” your finger pointing at satoru.

suguru's concerned expression quickly turned into a scowl as he heard your words. he turned towards satoru, a mixture of disappointment and irritation etched on his face. disbelief as he looked from you to satoru, then back at you again. he knew his best friend had a sweet tooth, but eating something that was specifically picked for you during times like this? it was too much even for his standards.

he let out a sigh, rubbing your back comfortingly as he addressed gojo. “satoru, what were you thinking? you know how excited she was for those macarons.” he then turned his attention back to you, gently wiping away your tears. “don't cry, love. it's just pastries, i can get you another box, hm?”

“no, I don't want another one, it's gonna take a long time for you to get me one and I want to eat it now!” you cry harder as you bury your face in suguru's chest, holding tight to his clothes like a kid.

suguru's expression softened as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against his chest, gently rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. he shot a disapproving glare at satoru, silently silently scolding him for making you cry so much over something as small as a box of sweets.

“there, there, it's alright,” he cooed, gently stroking your hair. “i understand you're upset, but let's calm down, alright? there's no need to cry over this. I'll get you anything you want, okay baby?”

satoru snickered at your display of emotionality, finding it entertaining how worked up you were over the macarons. satoru watched from the side, a smirk still playing on his face. he found the sight of you holding onto suguru like a kid absolutely adorable. “look at you, throwing a tantrum over a box of pastries. so cute.” he walk closer, “my, my, you're more emotional than usual, aren't you?” he teased lightly, his fingers gently running through your hair.

fast enough to startle him, you turn your head to satoru the moment you hear the last word he throws at you. “i hate you! you're always like this and only thinking about yourself!” your beautiful pink lips spat a fire, a dagger straight to satoru's heart.

you smack his hand away from you before leaving the kitchen to your bedroom, still crying. seeing you walk away like a wake-up call for satoru. doesn't matter how mad you are at him you never use the words and seeing you like that makes him realize that he's making a great mistake, a fatal one might be.

his smirk faded from his face in an instant as soon as those words left your lips. he stood there, stunned by your sudden outburst, his arm frozen outstretched in the air, where it had been just seconds ago.

as you smacked his hand away and stormed off to your bedroom, satoru stood there frozen in place, the reality of his mistake sinking in. the sound of each step punctuating the weight of your words still ringing in his ears. he could see the pain he caused you, and the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. he felt a pang of guilt and shame creeping up inside of him.

suguru watched you walk away, a mixture of shock and disappointment on his face. he shot a glare at satoru, his eyes narrowing in disapproval. “nice going, satoru. you really messed up this time,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. suguru knows you never mean any of those words but satoru might not.

he exchanged a glance with suguru, who had a slight frown on his face. satoru sighed heavily, breaking the silence. "i messed up, didn't i?" he muttered, his playful demeanor replaced by genuine guilt. suguru's brows furrowed in disappointment as he looked at satoru, before he spoke up.

"you've outdone yourself this time, you idiot."

he had always known his playful teasing could sometimes push the boundaries, but this was different. seeing the look of anger and hurt on your face. hearing those harsh words leaving your pink lips stung more than he had ever thought possible. your beautiful pink lips, once so kind and nurturing, unleashed a fire fueled by frustration and sadness.

“fuck, what did I do?—” he whispered, both hands on his white lock, gripping them a handful. he looks to suguru, wishing for a solution, hoping that maybe suddenly suguru has a time machine and he can undo the things. “what should I do?” he asks the raven.

“i don't know satoru, how about not eating the macarons which is by the way you know how long she's been waiting to eat those and make fun of her,” suguru covered in sarcasm answered.

suguru's words were sharp, laced with a hint of irritation and disappointment. he couldn't hold back the sarcasm in his voice as he replied to satoru's question, making it clear that he was upset with his behavior.

“well, perhaps if you had a bit more restraint, you wouldn't be in this situation,” suguru continued, crossing his arms over his chest. “you know how much she was looking forward to those pastries, and yet you chose to act like a child, eating them without a second thought. now look at the mess you've caused.”

satoru let out a frustrated sigh as suguru's response hit him like a ton of bricks, the sarcasm in his tone making him feel even more guilty than he already did. he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident in his expression.

“i know, i know, i messed up. i should have just left those damn macarons alone,” he said through gritted teeth. “i just didn't think she'd react like... like that.” he looked back at the hallway leading to your bedroom, his heart sank seeing your tear-stained face in his mind.

“what did you expect, satoru? she's pregnant, emotional, and carrying a child which takes a toll on her body. she's going through a lot, and you're behaving like you're still a child,” suguru sighed, crossing his arms as he looked at his stupid husband, sitting at the dining chair with head on both hands. “go apologies, she needs more than just empty words.”

satoru brings his head up from his palm, looking at suguru like he's about to cry, eyes red and his blue pupils shaking. “baby, she must not want to see me right now, what should I do?” satoru holds his husband's hand while the other is stuck to his forehead.

suguru's gaze softened, seeing the vulnerability in satoru's eyes. the usual playful facade was gone, replaced by a mixture of guilt and uncertainty. suguru could tell that he was genuinely regretful.

suguru squeezed satoru's hand, feeling the tremble in his grip. he could see the despair in his voice and the fear of losing the connection they shared.

“listen, satoru,” he said gently, guiding satoru to sit on the couch. he took a seat next to him, their hands still clasped together. “she just needs time to calm down. give her a little space, but don't wait too long. show her that you understand what you did wrong and how much you regret it.”

“can you go to her first? you can calm her down, I'll be waiting at the door until she's ready to see me,” hopefully satoru trying to convince suguru. the man chuckled softly, seeing the pleading look in his lover's eyes. he knew how much he missed your presence and wanted to make amends so he nodded in agreement.

“alright, I'll go talk to her first. remember, don't wait too long, alright?” suguru got up from the couch and made his way to your bedroom with satoru following from behind, still holding onto the man's hand until they both stopped in your shared bedroom with them. suguru softly knocked on the door and could be heard faintly by you inside the bedroom.

“honey, it's me, can I come in?”

you looked up from where you were lying on the bed, your tear-streaked face a testament to the flood of emotions coursing through you. hearing suguru's voice at the door, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

“come in,“ you called out, your voice slightly hoarse and wobble from crying. suguru slowly opened the door and stepped inside the bedroom, his eyes immediately found you lying on the bed.

his heart ached to see you in such a state, tears staining your cheeks and your eyes red and puffy. he walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, his gaze filled with concern.

“how are you feeling, love?”

your initial resistance lessened as you felt suguru's gentle touch, his hand cupping your cheeks and caressing away your tears. his voice, soft and filled with care as he whispered, “come here, baby,” made you want to melt into his embrace.

you complied, moving closer to him and burying your face into his chest, seeking comfort in his familiar scent and warmth. you let yourself be pulled into his embrace, your head resting on his chest as he held you close, leaning against the bed rest. his touch was tender and reassuring, his fingers running through your hair in a soothing gesture.

tears welled up in your eyes again, your body shaking as you began to cry softly once more. “i just wanted the damn macarons,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt.

suguru cannot help but chuckle at your adorableness, smiling to himself, “i know baby, I know. I'll get them for you, as much as you want, satoru will buy you the store if you want to, but stop crying okay? it's not good for you, your head is gonna hurt, hm?”

suguru's chuckle made you feel a mix of annoyance and affection. you knew he was right, but the frustration was still bubbling up inside you.

you sniffled and wiped away your tears, trying to compose yourself a bit. “i just... i just wanted those damn macarons. i'm tired, and everything hurts, and i just wanted something sweet to eat. is that too much to ask for?”

suguru shook his head, “no baby, of course not, it's just that satoru—”

you didn't give suguru to finish his sentence before you cut him off, “he's laughing at me suguru, for fuck sake. he laughs like he doesn't care and makes fun of me like my needs don't matter—”

your shared bedroom door brushes open and satoru walks in, fast enough for you not to give him the proper reaction as he suddenly sits in front of you, both hands holding yours tightly, holding for his dear life.

satoru's eyes flickered between you and suguru, his heart clenching tightly at the sight of your red, tearful face. he could hear every word you had just said, the pain and frustration in your voice hitting him like a punch to the gut.

he gently grabbed your hands, his own shaking slightly as he gazed at you with a mix of guilt, remorse, and pleading in his eyes. “baby, please listen to me..” he began, his voice unsteady.

you looked up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying. you could hear the sincere tone in his voice, the desperation and regret obvious. you didn't pull your hands away from his, but you didn't speak either.

suguru, seeing the tension in the room, sat quietly beside you, his gaze darting between you and satoru. his large hand softly caressing your waist. the air in the room was thick with anticipation, and all eyes were on satoru to continue.

your gaze met his, your eyes still watery from the tears but also carrying a hint of anger. you listened, but your expression remained stern, showing that you weren't ready to forgive him just yet.

satoru's grip on your hands tightened a little, his thumbs rubbing small, comforting circles on the backs of your hands. he could see the pain in your eyes, and it only made him feel worse.

“i know i messed up,” he began, his voice wavering.

“i should have never touched those macarons. i was being selfish, and it hurt you.” satoru looks into your eyes, his gaze filled with remorse. “you matter to me. your needs and wants are more important to me than anything else, especially a damn box of macaroons.”

he pauses for a moment, his grip loosening slightly in your hands. “i made a mistake, and i'm sorry. i should have thought of you, not just myself. i should have been more considerate and understanding.”

satoru's gaze softened, his eyes locked on yours as he spoke. “your needs matter more to me than anything. you're my wife, my love, and you're carrying our child. I should have prioritized you over a box of macarons, no matter how much i like them.”

he paused for a moment, his hands holding onto yours tightly. “should have never laughed at you or made you cry. i was acting like a stupid child, and you don't deserve that” satoru's eyes were full of remorse, every word he spoke tinged with guilt. he knew he had messed up, and he wanted nothing more than to fix it.

you listened to his words, feeling a mix of pain and relief in your heart. your anger was slowly fading, replaced by a strange tenderness for him.

satoru could see in your eyes that you were starting to soften, your expression becoming less guarded. he took it as a sign to continue pouring his heart out.

“i'm so sorry, baby,” he whispered. “i was stupid, and selfish, and i should have been more understanding. you deserve better than that. please forgive me.”

your resolve started to waver, the anger slowly being replaced by a mix of forgiveness and love. looking into his pleading eyes, your heart skipped a beat.

“you were a jerk,” you mumbled, your voice still holding a hint of annoyance. “and you made me cry, and you didn't care about my feelings.”

satoru looked at you with hope in his eyes, desperately trying to hold onto your hands, afraid that you'll slip away from him. “i know, i know. i was such a jerk, i'm sorry baby.”

you looked at him, your heart thudding heavily in your chest. hearing his sincere apologies and the pleading look in his eyes stirred up emotions within you.

you didn’t want to admit it, but you loved him, and seeing him so distraught and remorseful tugged at your heartstrings. a part of you just wanted to forgive him and be in his arms, but the hurt and frustration were still present.

you took a ragged breath, your voice quavering. “how can i trust that you won't do something like this again?”

satoru's expression became serious, his eyes filled with determination. “baby, i swear on everything i hold dear. i will never underestimate your needs again. your comfort, happiness, and wellbeing are my top priority from now on.”

he raised your knuckles to his lips, gently pressing a kiss against them as he looked at you with a desperate plea. “give me another chance, please. i will make up for it. I promise.”

your heart skipped a beat as his lips touched your knuckles, the softness of his touch making you melt a little. your resolve was weakening, and you could feel your anger melting away.

you looked at him, a mixture of resignation and love in your eyes. “I've been craving those macarons all day,” you said softly, a hint of pleading in your voice.

satoru's eyes lit up, a glimmer of hope flickering in his gaze. “anything for you, love. I'll get you all the macarons you want.” a small smile tugged at the corners of youe lips. seeing him so determined and sincere was making it difficult to hold onto your anger. you let out a small sigh, feeling the tension in your body easing a bit.

“promise?“ you asked, your tone almost teasing.

a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as satoru eagerly nodded, excitement in his eyes at the prospect of pleasing you. “yes, I promise, baby. I'll get you the most delicious macarons you've ever tasted. I'll order them from the best bakery in town.”

he gave your hands a gentle squeeze, his expression soft and sincere. “anything you want, just say it, and I'll make it happen.” he gave your hands another kiss. seeing how sorry he was, the guilt started eating you alive, the weight of the words you said to him before starting to eat you.

“i'm sorry for saying that I hate you, I didn't mean any of that, I just—” satoru shushed you gently, his arms holding you tighter against him. “no, baby, don't apologize. i understand why you said it, and you were completely justified.”

he pressed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, his voice filled with remorse. “I shouldn't have teased you like that, especially after you've been dealing with pregnancy hormones and cravings all day. you had every right to be upset with me.”

“yeah right, baby, you should smack the shit out of him,“ he added playfully, gently pinching your cheeks. “do you want me to use my rainbow dragon on him? I could totally do that.”

suguru's playful suggestion managed to coax a small chuckle out of you, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you glanced at him, shaking your head slightly. “no, no, suguru, that won't be necessary. as tempting as that sounds, I'd rather not see any more dragon destruction for now.”

satoru rolled his eyes and shot a mock glare at Suguru. despite his attempt at seriousness, a small smile betrayed his true feelings. “thanks for the support, suguru,” he said sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood. suguru shrugged, grinning. “hey, someone has to keep you in line, satoru. If it takes a rainbow dragon, then so be it.”

“oh, please,” satoru retorted, crossing his arms.

“Like you've never made a mistake. remember the time you—” suguru cut him off, waving a hand dismissively. “we’re not talking about me. this is about you eating the macarons. focus, Satoru.” satoru huffed, his eyes narrowing playfully.

“I think you just enjoy seeing me in trouble.”

suguru smirked, leaning back. “maybe I do. but only because it's so easy to get you riled up.”

“yeah, well, not all of us can be perfect like you, Mr. dragon summoner,” satoru shot back, though his tone was light. suguru chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I never claimed to be perfect. Just better at avoiding macaron-related disasters.”

“ha! keep telling yourself that,” atoru replied, rolling his eyes again.

you watched their banter, a genuine smile forming on your face as their playful bickering helped ease the tension. “alright, boys, enough,” you said, your voice regaining a hint of lightness. “no more fighting. how about we focus on making things better?”

satoru nodded, his expression softening as he looked at you. “agreed. I'll start with that foot massage.”

“and I'll make sure he does it right,” suguru added with a wink, hugging your body to give your cheek a kiss, little bit too aggressive, earning another eye roll from satoru.

satoru positioned himself at the foot of the bed, gently taking your foot into his hands. his touch was tender and soothing, a stark contrast to his usual bold actions. he started massaging your foot gently, his fingers rubbing in small circles.

suguru, never one to stay silent for long, continued his playful banter, trying to keep the atmosphere light-hearted. “make sure you get the arches, satoru. pregnant feet need extra care, you know.” a smirk on his face as he watched satoru's attempt at making amends. “he's been practicing, you know,” he teased, causing satoru to roll his eyes once more.

satoru's fingers worked their magic, gently kneading and massaging your feet. He knew just how sore and tired they were from carrying you during your pregnancy. He focused on each sore spot, his touch firm and soothing.

meanwhile, suguru couldn't resist chiming in (again) with some light-hearted comments, poking fun at satoru occasionally. “watch your grip, satoru. no need to turn her feet into pancakes,” his eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched satoru perform his husbandly duties.

“you're a quick learner,” he quipped at satoru, who shot him a playful glare in response. he leaned over to satoru, a smug grin on his face. “make sure you don't miss a spot, lover boy. her feet need extra attention, considering the little one she's growing in there.”

satoru glanced up at suguru, a mock glare in his eyes. “oh, shut up. I know what I'm doing.”

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘

⭑.ᐟ : 𝐈 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫, my heart racing with anticipation. Standing there in all black, hoodie pulled up to hide his face, was Chris. The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated just the faintest hint of a mischievous grin on his lips.

I quickly grabbed Chris's wrist, pulling him inside with a hushed whisper, “Hurry up, before we get caught!”

The sound of the door shutting behind us seemed to echo through the quiet house, as we both froze for a moment, listening for any signs of awakening from my parents. Luckily, the house remained eerily silent, and Chris's grin only widened.

My hands trembled slightly as I locked the door behind us, then gripped Chris's hand tightly. We moved silently up the stairs, my heart continuing to pound in my chest. I led him down the hallway, every creak of the floorboards feeling like a potential alarm for my parents.

When we reached my bedroom door, I paused, taking a quick look down the hall before opening the door and pulling Chris inside.

We were in my room now, the soft light from my nightstand casting long shadows on the walls. Chris pulled back his hood and looked around with a smirk, obviously satisfied with the mischief we had just pulled off. I closed the door behind us and leaned against it, not quite realizing how winded I was from the adrenaline. We both stood there for a moment, listening for any signs of movement from my parents, but the house remained silent.

I let out a shaky breath, and couldn’t help but smile at the audacity that had brought Chris to my house. “You’re insane,” I muttered, “I can’t believe you actually showed up.”

He chuckled, leaning against my desk and crossing his arms casually. “What, wouldn’t you be disappointed if I didn’t?”

I rolled my eyes, but the truth was, I was both relieved and excited to have him here. There was something about his carefree attitude and the hint of danger hanging around him that was incredibly appealing. I couldn’t explain it, but being alone with him felt like a new kind of adventure.

“You’re reckless,” I said, trying to sound exasperated but failing. “You know if my parents find out, I’m as good as dead.”

I couldn’t hold back a sigh as I walked over to my bed and flung myself backward onto the mattress. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, leaving me feeling both exhausted and relieved at the same time. The bed creaked under my weight, and I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to get my breath back.

Chris moved silently and swiftly, his body towering over mine as I lay on the bed, my eyes still closed. I felt his proximity, the heat radiating from him, and my heart quickened yet again. Then, to my surprise, he leaned close to my neck, his voice a soft whisper in my ear, “Don’t be mad at me,” he murmured, “I don’t like it when you’re mad.”

I kept my eyes shut, the words escaping my lips in a hushed tone, “I’m not mad,” I whispered, my voice betraying the slight tremor I felt at his nearness. His warm breath tickled my cheek, sending shivers down my spine.

I continued, my voice steadying a little, “I’m just telling you, if my parents find out you’re here, we’re dead.”

Chris chuckled softly, the sound low and intimate, “Relax,” he whispered, “They’re not going to find out.”

Chris continued, his breath against my neck, sending another shiver down my spine, “We’ll be sneaky,” he promised, “They won’t have a clue I’m here.”

His words sent a new wave of both excitement and trepidation through me. I knew it was risky, but the thrill of having him here, the promise of secrecy and the proximity of his body over mine, was making it hard to care.

Slowly, gently, Chris let his lips find my neck, his breath hot against my skin. I felt a soft gasp escape my lips as he started to trail light kisses down the side of my neck, his lips moving slowly and deliberately. His body leaned even closer, the weight of his torso pressing me involuntarily into the mattress.

His kisses, though soft, felt electric. Each press of his lips sent a jolt of heat coursing through me, and I found myself involuntarily tipping my head back to give him more access. I could feel his hands on either side of me, gripping the mattress, as if anchoring himself.

Without thinking, my fingers found their way into his hair, carding through the soft strands as I pulled him closer. I arched my back slightly, baring my neck to him, silently begging for more. The combination of his mouth on my skin and the feel of his hair between my fingers was intoxicating.

Chris pulled away from my neck just long enough to whisper against my ear, “I just need you to keep it down,” he murmured, his words sending another shiver through me, “Can you do that for me?”

His voice was soft, but there was an undertone of command beneath it, and my breath hitched at the implications.

I nodded, my hands still tangled in his hair, my body still taut against his, and he returned to my neck, his mouth finding that spot just below my ear that made me weak. A small gasp escaped my lips, and I remembered his warning, biting my lip to hold back a moan.

His mouth teased the sensitive skin of my neck, his teeth gently scraping over my pulse point. My fingers instinctively tightened in his hair, trying to hold on to some sense of control, but it was quickly slipping away. I could feel the heat of his body pressed against mine, the weight of him delicious and torturous all at once.

I managed to regain some level of control, and with a ragged breath, I tugged gently on his hair, managing to whisper, “No marks, Chris,” my voice shaky.

He hummed against my neck, the vibration sending a wave of heat through me, but he pulled away just enough to murmur, “Where's the fun in that?”

I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was teasing, but I couldn’t help the blush that spread over my cheeks at his words. I tried to sound firm, but there was a hint of pleading in my voice, “I mean it, no marks.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and throaty. “Alright, no marks,” he agreed, but his mouth didn’t leave my skin, instead trailing down to the base of my collarbone.

I could feel the heat of his lips on my collarbone, soft and tantalizing, but his tongue flicked out, tasting my skin, and I let out a soft gasp. His hands slid down to my hips, holding me in place, as his mouth moved lower, making my breathing erratic.

His touch was a mix of light and firm, the pads of his fingers tracing patterns on my stomach as he continued to kiss my neck. The feel of his hands on my bare skin was making it increasingly difficult to hold back the small, needy sounds I was desperately trying to suppress.

Chris's hand continued it's journey under my shirt, and as his fingers glided over the smooth, bare expanse of my chest, he froze for a moment, his breath warm against my skin.

“No bra?” he murmured, his voice a low, mischievous whisper against my neck as he smirked. I felt my cheeks flush, and I tried to find the words to respond, but all I could manage was a small squirm as his hand lingered on my chest.

Chris's fingers found my nipple, circling the sensitive bud teasingly. I gasped as a jolt of pleasure shot through me, my back arching slightly off the bed. His lips curved into a satisfied smirk against my neck as he heard my breathy moan.

Chris's mouth claimed mine in a searing kiss, swallowing my moan as his fingers continued their torturous teasing. I kissed him back fervently, my tongue tangling with his as I tried to muffle any further sounds of my pleasure.

Chris's thumb rubbed gentle circles around my nipple while his index and middle fingers pinched and rolled the other one, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. I struggled to stay quiet, my lips locked against his in a desperate attempt to silence my moans

Chris's touch became more insistent, his hands exploring my body with confidence. He trailed kisses along my jaw and down my neck, his breath hot against my skin. I clutched at his shoulders, my nails digging into his back as I writhed beneath him. “Shh, baby,”

Chris paused in his ministrations and reached down to the hem of my shirt, his fingers tracing the edge teasingly. “Lift your arms,” he whispered against my ear, his voice husky.

I complied eagerly, my breath hitching as he slowly pulled the shirt up and over my head, leaving me bare beneath him. His eyes flicked down to admire my breasts, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “God, you're beautiful,” he murmured.

Chris leaned down and captured my mouth in a passionate kiss before trailing his lips along my collarbone. He paused briefly between my breasts, his hands caressing the soft mounds before he leaned down and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to my skin.

Chris's kisses grew harder, his teeth nipping at my skin as he marked his territory. He left red, passion-filled love bites along my collarbone, between my breasts, and even on the soft flesh of my stomach. I gasped and squirmed beneath him, the slight pain only intensifying the pleasure.

“Oops,” Chris murmured, pulling back to admire his handiwork. I pouted up at him, “I told you no marks, Chris.” I chided, trying to keep my voice down.

Chris leaned in close, his breath fanning across my face as he smirked. “Yeah, but you can just cover them up with a shirt,” he murmured, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Besides, you should be grateful I restrained myself from marking your neck too.”

I shook my head at him, but my expression softened when he leaned into my neck, his warm breath tickling my skin. “I'm sorry, baby,” he murmured, his hands slowly sliding down into my pajama pants. “Will you forgive me?”

His fingers found their way into my underwater, gently parting my thighs as they slipped between them. I bit my lip to keep from moaning, my hips bucking against his touch as he slowly caressed me. “Forgive me?”

Chris's fingers teased along my slit, feeling how wet I already was for him. He circled my clit slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure to make me shudder. “Please, baby,” he murmured against my neck, his voice a low rumble.

I nodded my head, forgiving him as he continued to touch me. His fingers dipped inside me, curling and stroking that sensitive spot within me that made my whole body tremble. Chris groaned against my neck, his own need evident in the way his breath hitched and his fingers moved faster.

“Oh, God, Chris,” I whimpered, my hands clutching at his back as he drove me closer to the edge. His fingers pistoned in and out of me, his thumb grinding against my swollen bud. He nuzzled into my neck, his breath hot and ragged.

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his voice low and demanding. His fingers pumped faster, his touch unrelenting, and I shattered around him, my body convulsing with waves of pleasure. He muffled my cries with his mouth, kissing me deeply as I rode out the high.

As the aftershocks subsided, Chris slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean. He hummed at my taste, his eyes dark with lust. “Delicious,” he murmured. His hands slid up to cup my face, his thumbs brushing over my flushed cheeks.

Chris reached for the hem of my pajama pants, his eyes locked onto mine. “Lift up,” he ordered softly. I obeyed, lifting my hips so he could peel off my pants and underwear in one fluid motion. He tossed them aside, his hands returning to my thighs and spreading them wide.

Chris knelt down in front of me, his broad shoulders spreading my thighs even wider. He leaned in close, his warm breath fanning over my sensitive flesh. He began to clean me up with his mouth, his tongue gentle yet thorough as it lapped at my folds.

My hand quickly found its way into Chris's hair, gripping the strands as his talented mouth worked me over. He groaned against my core, the vibrations adding to the intense sensations. His tongue delved deeper, thrusting inside me as he savored my essence. I rolled my hips, grinding against his face.

Chris's arms wrapped around my thighs, securing me in place as he devoured me. His fingers joined his mouth, sliding inside as his tongue swirled around my swollen nub. I gasped, my back arching off the bed as my hands fisted his hair tightly. “Chris, please...”

Chris growled against my flesh, the vibrations pushing me closer to the edge. He added a third finger, stretching me wide as he pumped them in and out, his mouth sucking on my peak. “Cum on my face, baby,” he demanded, his voice muffled yet clear.

I couldn't hold back any longer. With a loud cry, I came hard on his face, my whole body shaking as I soaked his chin and lips with my release. Chris drank it all in, his fingers still pumping inside me as he sucked and licked, milking every last drop from my trembling body.

Chris crawled back up my body, hovering over me as he leaned down capture my lips in a deep, sensual kiss. I could taste myself on his tongue as it dominated my mouth, claiming me thoroughly. His hard length pressed against my thigh, hot and insistent.

Breaking the kiss, I reached for the hem of his black hoodie, eager to undress him. My fingers brushed against his chiseled abs, tracing the defined ridges as I pushed the hoodie up his torso. He helped me remove it, tossing it aside before returning to brace himself above me.

He brought me into another deep kiss, his body lowering to press against mine. His bare chest crushed against my breasts, the friction making my nipples harden into tight peaks. His hands roamed down my sides, tracing my curves before slipping between our bodies to palm my backside and grind himself against me.

As we kissed, Chris brought one hand to my jawline, cradling my face gently. His thumb caressed my cheek as his tongue delved deep, tangling with mine. His other hand continued to squeeze and knead my backside, lifting me to meet each delicious grind of his hips.

I rolled us over, reversing our positions so I was now on top. Chris looked up at me, his eyes dark with desire as I straddled his hips. I broke the kiss to sit back and admire him, running my hands over his chest and abs in awe before reaching for his belt.

Chris reached for my lips, wanting another kiss, but I pushed him down onto the bed instead. He groaned as his back hit the mattress, his eyes following my hands as I unbuttoned his pants and slowly pulled down the zipper. I looked up at him through my lashes, biting my lip.

I teased him through his boxers, palming him gently as he watched me with hooded eyes. His hips lifted off the bed, seeking more of my touch. I leaned down, my breath hot as I hovered over him. “Please, Y/N...” he groaned, his hands fisting the sheets.

I smirked mischievously, enjoying the control I had over him. I ran my fingers along his hard length through the thin fabric, feeling him jerk against my touch. I slowly traced the outline, tormenting him until he let out a frustrated growl.

“You're killing me...” he hissed, his knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets so tightly. I leaned down further, my breath hot on his flesh as I continued to taunt him through the cotton. I could see his stomach clench and unclench with each passing second. “Y/N...”

I leaned down to his neck, my breath hot against his skin as I whispered, “Not yet...” My hands continued their slow torture, grazing his hardened length through the fabric of his boxers. He let out a shaky breath, his voice hoarse as he begged, “Please... I need more...”

I slid my hand into his boxers, wrapping my fingers around his scorching hot skin. His hips bucked up, pressing against my palm. As I slowly pumped my hand, I leaned down and began to mark his collarbone and chest with gentle love bites.

I met at his neck, my hot breath washing over his skin as I continued to work my hand over him. “You're so hard for me...” I whispered against his ear, my voice sultry. He let out a low moan, his head tilting to the side to grant me better access.

My hand tightened around him as I moaned into his ear, “Chris...” His hips thrust up into my grasp, his breathing becoming more ragged. “Say it again... please,” he begged, his voice laced with desperation. I obliged, my voice husky as I whispered, “Chris...”

“You feel so good in my hand...” I murmured against his neck, my fingers wrapping tighter around his hard length as I slowly pumped. “And you taste so good...” I groaned, my teeth gently scraping his skin as I marked him.

“I want you to bend me over this bed and fuck me until I can't walk...” I whispered, my breath hot against his neck. “I want you to tie my hands behind my back and spank me until my ass is red and sore...” I continued, my words dripping with desire.

“I want you to make me scream so loud you'll have to shut me up with your hand over my mouth,” I added, my voice barely above a whisper. Chris let out a strangled groan, his body tensing up as he struggled to hold back his climax.

I hovered over his face, my eyes locked onto his intense, yearning gaze. The raw emotion etched on his face sent a surge of power through me. I leaned down, pressing my lips to his in a searing, passionate kiss. His hands shot up to grasp my hips, pulling me even closer.

As I pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connected our lips before breaking. I slowly moved down his body, my hands trailing over his chest and stomach. I knelt in front of him, my knees hitting the wooden floor with a soft thud.

I reached for his boxers, slowly pulling them down his legs. He lifted his hips to help me, his eyes never leaving mine. Once they were off, I tossed them aside and gazed up at him, my mouth watering at the sight of his throbbing erection.

Chris propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes fixed intently on me as I knelt before him. His gaze was heated, his breathing ragged as he watched me. I reached out, wrapping my hand around the base of his shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze.

I leaned forward, my tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock, savoring the salty taste of his pre-cum. Chris let out a loud groan, his head falling back against the pillow as he struggled to maintain his balance on his elbows.

I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, sucking gently as I began to bob my head up and down. Chris's hands tangled in my hair, guiding my mouth further down his length. I looked up at him, our eyes meeting as I took him deeper, my nose pressing against his pelvis.

“Y/N...” he gasped, his voice strained. His hips bucked, his hands tugging at my hair. I could feel him growing harder, his breaths coming in short pants. I knew he was close, so I doubled my efforts, sucking and bobbing my head faster. “Stop... please...”

Chris was a whimpering, crying mess as he struggled to hold back his climax. His hands were fisted in my hair, his body shaking with the effort of keeping still. Tears streamed down his face, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought against his impending orgasm.

“Y/N... please... it's too much...” Chris whimpered, his voice barely a whisper. His body shook, his hips bucking forward uncontrollably. “I'm gonna... I can't... please, baby, please...”

His moans filled the room, interspersed with whimpers and pleas for release. His body was taut, his muscles tensed as he neared his breaking point. “Oh god... oh god... oh god...” he chanted, his voice rising in pitch.

With a final, choked moan, Chris came undone. His hips surged forward, burying his cock deep in my throat as he erupted. “Ma! Fuck, Y/N!” he cried out, his voice raw with emotion. His body convulsed, spilling his release down my throat.

I continued to suck and swallow, drawing out his release as he whimpered and moaned above me. His body trembled, his hands still fisted in my hair. As the last shudder wracked his body, he let out a soft whine.

Chris propped himself up on his elbows once more, watching as I continued to clean him with my mouth. He let out a soft moan, his body still quivering from the aftershocks of his release. I could see the raw, sated look in his eyes, his cheeks still wet with tears.

I got up and slowly straddled his lap, my arms wrapping around his neck. I grinded my hips against his, the mess we'd made making lewd, squelching sounds. Chris's eyes fluttered closed, his hands gripping my hips as he let out a low, contented hum.

“Mmm... Y/N...” Chris mumbled. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply as I continued to grind on him. I could feel him starting to harden again beneath me, his cock slick with our combined fluids.

My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as I continued to move against him. Chris's grip on my hips tightened, his face buried in the crook of my neck. He let out a soft, needy whimper, his hips rising to meet mine. “Y/N... more... please...”

I paused, my fingers still tangled in his hair. I reached down and wrapped my hand around his hardened length, lining it up with my entrance. I slowly sank down onto him, my eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. Chris's grip on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh.

I threw my head back, a low moan escaping my lips as I fully sheathed myself on him. Chris's face was flushed, his eyes locked onto my face as he bit his bottom lip. “Baby... please... move... please...” he whimpered.

I started to slowly rise and fall on him, my hands braced on his shoulders. Chris's fingers tightened on my hips, his own hips rising to meet mine as I increased my pace. The wet, sucking sounds of our joined bodies filled the room, punctuated by our moans and whimpers.

Chris's forehead fell forward onto my chest, his breath hot on my skin. “Oh god, Baby... yes... just like that...” He mumbled. His hands roamed over my body, caressing and squeezing as I rode him.

I reached down and gripped his face, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss. Chris's arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tight against him as I kissed him. Our mouths moved together in perfect sync, our tongues dancing as I continued to ride him.

We broke apart, both of us gasping for breath. A string of saliva connected our mouths, stretching and snapping as I threw my head back and continued to ride him.

Chris's lips found my neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin. His teeth grazed my pulse point, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. I could feel my climax approaching rapidly, my inner walls starting to flutter around him. “Chris...”

“...So close...” I panted, my voice barely a whisper. Chris's arms tightened around me, his hands gripping my bottom tightly. His hips thrust upwards, meeting my own downward motions, the sound of wet flesh slapping against flesh filling the room.

I opened my mouth to moan, but Chris quickly covered it with his hand. My eyes rolled back as my orgasm crashed over me, my body convulsing with pleasure. I clenched tightly around Chris, feeling him throb and pulse inside me as he found his own release.

“Ass over the bed…now.” Chris panted, gently lifting me off him. I whimpered at the loss of him, quickly complying and bending over the edge of the bed. Chris ran a hand down my back soothingly, tracing over the curve of my behind.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, giving my ass a gentle pat. He lined his still-hard length back up with my entrance, slowly pushing inside me once more. I let out a soft mewl, my face pressed against the comforter as he began to move inside me again.

Chris leaned over me, his chest pressed against my back. He reached around and covered my mouth with his hand once more. “Shhh... stay quiet for me,” he whispered huskily in my ear. He started to move inside me again, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm.

I bit down on his palm to muffle my moans as he increased his pace. The new angle allowed him to delve even deeper inside me, his hips slapping against my bottom with each thrust. Tears pricked at my eyes from the effort of staying silent, my hands gripping the bedsheets tightly.

Chris's free hand snaked around my waist, his fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. He started to strum it gently, his pace inside me never ceasing. I let out a muffled wail against his palm, my body tensing as another wave of pleasure crashed over me.

Just as Chris was about to reach his climax, he quickly pulled out of me and turned me over, laying me back on the bed. He hovered over me, his eyes locked onto mine as he lined himself back up with my entrance. “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice strained with desire.

Chris held himself at my entrance, teasing me with the tip of his hardness. He rubbed it against my sensitive folds, coating himself in my wetness. I whimpered and reached up to grab his arms, my legs wrapping around his waist as I tried to pull him inside.

“Chris... please...” I begged, my voice low and desperate. A small smirk played on Chris's lips as he continued to tease me. He leaned down, capturing my mouth with his own. His tongue delved deep, mimicking the movements he longed to make with the rest of his body.

Chris pulled back from the kiss, his gaze never leaving mine. He rubbed the tip of his cock against my entrance, applying just enough pressure to make me gasp. He did this over and over, the head of his dick teasing my opening, but not entering.

I opened my mouth to beg once more, but Chris chose that moment to thrust into me. He entered me hard and deep, his hips meeting mine with a sharp slap. I let out a loud, passion-filled moan, only for Chris to quickly cover my mouth with his hand.

“Not so loud,” Chris whispered against my ear, his hips continuing to move against mine in a steady rhythm. “We wouldn't want anyone to hear us, now would we?”

I whimpered against his palm, my arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to move inside me. The pressure of his hand over my mouth only heightened my arousal, and I could feel myself growing wetter around him with each thrust.

Chris's face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, his teeth gently scraping against my skin. He trailed kisses up to my jaw, then down to my collarbone. He cupped my breasts, massaging the soft mounds before lowering his head to suck one peak into his mouth.

Chris lifted his head, his hand still covering my mouth as he looked down at me. His hips never slowed, continuing to pound into me with hard, deep thrusts. Our eyes locked, the only sound the slap of his hips against my thighs and his hand muffling my cries.

Chris leaned down, pressing his free hand onto my stomach and pinning me down. His pace quickened, each thrust driving into me with force. I let out a louder moan, only for Chris to press down harder on my stomach.

“I can feel how deep I am inside you,” Chris growled, his voice low and commanding. “Can you feel that, ma? Can you feel every inch of me stretching you open?” His hand on my stomach pressed down even harder, keeping me pinned beneath him as he continued to thrust into me.

“You're so tight around me,” Chris panted, his hips never stopping their relentless pace. “Squeezing me like you never want to let go. I bet you're loving this, aren't you? Being filled up so deep, used for my pleasure.”

I whimpered beneath him, his words stirring something primal within me. Chris's eyes bored into mine, his jaw clenched as he tried to reign in his control. “I could live inside you,” he rasped, his pace slowing to long, deep strokes. “Stay buried within your heat forever.”

Chris's words sent a shiver through me, his slow, deep thrusts driving me closer to the edge. I could feel my walls clenching around him, trying to keep him trapped inside me forever. “Please,” I begged, my voice muffled by his hand still covering my mouth.

“Let me hear you,” Chris demanded, uncovering my mouth. His thrusts became shallower, the head of his manhood bumping against that sweet spot inside me. “Let me hear how much you love it, ma. Beg me for it.”

“Please, Chris!” I cried out, my head thrown back against the pillow. “Oh god, right there! Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” My fingers clawed at his forearm, still pinned against my stomach. He leaned down, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper as he kissed me. My arms wound around his back, my nails digging into his skin as he continued to hit that perfect spot. “More,” I panted, breaking the kiss. “I need more, Chris. Harder, please.”

Chris growled against my neck, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The new angle allowed him to drive into me even deeper, his pelvis grinding against my sensitive clit with each thrust. I cried out, my fingers scrabbling for purchase on his sweat-slicked back.

“That's it, take it all,” Chris groaned, pounding into me relentlessly. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with my wanton moans. He captured my lips in another bruising kiss, silencing my cries as he fucked me into the mattress.

“You're so good at taking me,” Chris praised, his voice thick with desire. “Like you were made just for me, baby. So warm, so tight... You take it so well.”

I let out a keening moan, his words pushing me closer to the edge. Chris's hips moved in a blur, his pace almost brutal. “Look at you,” he rasped, his voice ragged. “Taking me like such a good girl. Let me see you fall apart, ma.”

My back arched off the bed, my fingers digging into Chris's back as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. Stars burst behind my eyelids, my vision going white as I was consumed by pure, unadulterated bliss. “Chris!” I screamed, my voice hoarse from overuse.

Chris quickly covered my mouth once more, muffling my cries as his release overtook him. His hips stuttered, driving into me once, twice, three more times before he still. “Y/N,” he groaned, his body tensing as he spilled himself into me.

He held himself still, his face buried in the crook of my neck as he caught his breath. After a moment, he slowly pulled out of me, his softening member slipping free with a wet pop. I let out a soft whimper at the emptiness, my inner walls clenching around nothing.

Chris collapsed beside me, his arm wrapping around my waist to pull me flush against his body. I snuggled close, wrapping my arms around his chest and resting my head on his shoulder. “Stay with me,” I murmured softly, my voice sleepy.

Chris's chest rumbled with a soft laugh against my head. “I can't, ma,” he said, his voice gentle. “Your parents will see me here and there will be hell to pay.” I sighed, already knowing this, but not wanting to let him go just yet.

“Please,” I whined, tightening my arms around him. “I'll sneak you out early, an hour before my parents wake up. No one will know you were even here.”

Chris let out a soft groan, his fingers playing with my hair. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “But only because I can't bear the thought of leaving you right now.” He tightened his hold on me, his arms wrapping around me possessively.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The soft press of lips against my neck stirred me awake. I stirred sleepily, my eyes fluttering open to find Chris leaning over me, his face softened by the early morning light. He was already dressed in his clothes from the night before, his hair slightly disheveled. “Morning, sleepy head,”

“What time is it?” I tried to find my phone. “Just a little past 6,” Chris murmured, glancing at his watch. “We need to get me out of here before your parents wake up.” He leaned down, capturing my lips in a soft, lingering kiss. I sighed into it, savoring the taste of him.

“Mmm,” I murmured, not wanting him to leave just yet. I was still half asleep, and his warmth and presence were so comforting. Chris chuckled, his lips trailing kisses along my jaw. “Come on, ma, we have to go,”

I pouted, finally untangling myself from Chris's embrace and climbing out of bed. I looked down at myself, surprised to find that I was fully clothed. “You dressed me?” I asked softly, glancing back at Chris with a blush.

Chris nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Figured it'd be best if you weren't walking around naked,” he said, his voice low. I blushed deeper, slipping my feet into my slippers and cracking open my bedroom door to peer out into the hallway. The coast was clear.

We crept down the stairs quietly, the house slowly brightening up with the rising sun. Chris's hand was warm and comforting in mine, his thumb gently stroking my skin. We reached the bottom of the stairs without incident, and I led him towards the front door.

As we reached the door, I paused, looking back at Chris with a soft smile. “Thank you for last night,” I whispered, my heart swelling with emotion. Chris's eyes softened, and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to my lips. “Always,”

I leaned in for a longer kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck and savoring the moment. Chris melted into the kiss, his arms wrapping around my waist to hold me close. After a long moment, he reluctantly pulled back, his eyes searching mine. “I'll see you soon, ma,”

“Mmm...” I murmured, not wanting him to leave just yet. Chris chuckled softly, pressing a quick peck to my lips before trailing kisses along my jawline. “I have to go, ma. Before I get caught with you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

I sighed, reluctantly letting my arms fall from around his neck. “Okay. Be safe,” I said softly, my eyes already missing his presence. “I will” He leaned in and pecked my lips once more. He pulled away and gave me one last smoldering look before slipping out the front door and disappearing into the early morning light.

⋆˙⟡ TAGS : @st6rify ✮⋆˙ @jetaimevous ✮⋆˙ @certifiedstarrr ✮⋆˙ @slvtf0rchr1s ✮⋆˙ @l3sbiancvnt ✮⋆˙ @wh0remikasas

── .✦ MASTER—LIST ⭑𓂃

[md-intermission-archive]

"Murder Drones: Intermission": A Story of Understanding

Uzi Doorman: Understanding Loneliness

I feel like during the development of this episode, Uzi was the hardest character for me to wrap my head around. To my understanding, she’s feisty, angsty, and plays up this persona of being apathetic. A sort of lone wolf thing.

She’s snappy towards her classmates who ostracize her, snappy towards adults in her life, and overall gives a middle finger to anyone who isn’t on Team Uzi. It’s a very “me vs. the world” type of thing. That, to me, just felt like the callous shell of someone who’s painfully fragile and has been hurt so often.

I will admit, I may be projecting slightly, but I honestly read her as like… a neurodivergent kid who didn’t know how to navigate social circles, so she just became incredibly bitter. Her father didn’t help her situation at all because he also treated her like a freak, literally calling her a disappointment in his business ads. Then on top of all that she had no mother figure to look up to. All of this accumulates into a habit of isolation. “No one will love me, so fuck it. I’m on my own”. She acts like she’s fine on her own, when in reality she’s so starved for genuine connection. With that in mind, in Intermission I wanted to peel back those layers a little bit. I wanted to explore self-isolation and that hunger for love. 

Some people clocked this I think: the way Uzi’s attitude is toned down in Intermission. I didn’t want to play up her angsty teen act as much (and I capped her at one “bite me”) because then I’d risk falling into the trap of making her into a caricature of herself. The way I framed her in my head is “if she wants connection, then she’d be happier around people who she sees as her friends. If she’s also fragile though, she’ll make an immediate 180 at the slightest hint of meanspiritedness”. This was the guideline I gave myself when it came to bouncing her off of V and N. N melts her icy demeanor. He’s very gentle and encouraging with her. One example being how N kneeled down to her eye level when speaking to her when she was putting up her walls again. As someone who’s constantly ostracized, she needs a gentle touch in order to relax.

I made sure to keep that in mind, that while she was being treated gently, she should show more signs of happiness. Comfort. Part of that comfort is also reflected in being mischievous/playful. As for the 180 she makes if shown any sort of cruelty, that’s reflected in acts of self-isolation. 

This is something I’ve observed from myself and people in my life. If someone is already deathly afraid of rejection, they won’t reach out for help and their immediate instinct will be to isolate. In the beginning of the EP when Uzi’s having her Solver flare up her immediate thought is “I’m going to put up a firewall (repress) and just not even mention this to anybody”. Then when N offers to help, she still shows signs of being uncomfortable because she’s not used to it. It isn’t until V’s comment calling her a lost cause irks her that she decides “screw it let’s give it a shot”. She hates being underestimated, so this reaction made sense to me. Meanwhile the climax of the episode is where I wanted the most overt display of her fears to be presented.

As I said earlier, Uzi’s sensitive to rejection. She attacked the only people in her life who care about her, and the worst part was it wasn’t even her fault. Uzi is a person who really wants a sense of control over her life for the sake of security, so that loss of control and the idea of “oh my god they hate me now” was the final straw for her. So, she isolated. She ran off (or in this case, flew off), she barricaded herself, and she cried.

During the scene when Uzi's found, I had a bit of an issue figuring out where to go from there with her. I had two options: I could once again lean into her badass persona and have her fight back, or I could have her fold. I decided the latter. To her, she just lost the only people who cared about her, she's a monster to worker drone society, her father doesn't care about her.

What's the point. She's doomed to be alone.

If V didn't have her revelation, Uzi would've let herself die. While I understand that's an upsetting choice to make in the narrative, given Uzi's circumstances it felt like the appropriate reaction. Which is why the events following were so important.

While Uzi's at her lowest point she's shown pinch of kindness.

While it’s true V’s initial intention was to off Uzi, her showing compassion and sympathy was what helped calm Uzi down. Rather than making her put up walls like V usually does, V was able to break through them a tad. That interaction, N pouncing at her with a hug, and the final scene was meant to cement in Uzi’s head that she finally wasn’t alone (even if V still struggled to not be prickly with her). The three are still incredibly messy, but there’s that sense of trust that Uzi now has people in her life that actually care about her despite her messiness. The mischievous attitude even comes out when she says, “you found a nanospark of warmth in your heart to care about me”. She now feels more comfortable with V to an extent, and she finally has a support system.

I think…the reason why I love Uzi so much is that she’s sadly reflects the experience of what it's like not being able to fit into society's mold of acceptable. Even if she might not be neurodivergent, the bullying and isolation she experiences is very familiar. I wanted to do her justice as much as I could with that all in mind and with the resources I had. I wanted to give her one happy ending to a day when every other feels like utter hell.

The angsty teen may be badass, but her heart is still fragile.

[ultram0th]

December 08: Jake Andrich

00 │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08

Jake Andrich flashed his sexy smile for the webcam as he took off his shirt. He was having a special one-on-one cam show for one of his patrons who had paid for a solo performance. Jake was used to having loads of guys asking for a private show where the young stud would show off his chiseled, tattooed muscles. However, he was a little shocked at the boyish face with thick-rimmed glasses that this patron had, looking to be slightly younger than him.

Jake didn’t mind though. He was used to having older clientele, but he was more than okay with having a young adult gawk at his muscled frame.

His baby-faced client, Billy, crossed his arms over this thin chest as he watched Jake undress. His smooth face was expressionless.

Jake felt a twinge of irritation bubble up within him over the blasé attitude of his young client, so he decided to up the ante.

The stud raised his arms over his head, showing off his pits as he flexed his massive biceps. “Ever seen arms like these?” Jake playfully purred. “Bet ya haven’t seen biceps as fuckin’ massive as these.”

“…yeah,” his nerdy-looking client sighed.

Jake jerked back in shock, dropping his pose. “Um, okay…?” he mumbled, unsure of how to proceed. Jake fought back the chuckle over how much of a nerd this guy must be.

The stud shrugged his broad shoulders and began to flex his chest instead, figuring that maybe the nerdy guy would appreciate his smooth pecs.

However, instead of gawking at his pecs like many of the other men, the nerd looked unimpressed and even went so far as to ask, “Did you shave your chest?” An ounce of disappointment was audible in his voice.

“No,” Jake answered, confused. His chest wasn’t naturally hairy, which he preferred since it allowed his tattoos to remain front and center. “Why don’t you tell me what you want?” He could feel himself starting to grow impatient with this particular client. Whereas men usually came on the spot when he flexed his muscles, this young nerd looked as if he couldn’t care less.

Finally, the corners of the client’s mouth pulled upwards as he grinned. “Fine,” he smiled. “If it’s alright with you, Jake, may I call you ‘Daddy’?”

Jake cocked his eyebrow, not used to being the Daddy in these kinds of situations. Still, he’d already accepted the nerd’s payment, so he nodded. “Sure,” he smirked, “I’ll be your Daddy.” To emphasize his point, he playfully bounced his toned pectorals.

The nerdy guy’s glasses-covered eyes appeared to glow for a second as he smirked. “Good, I’m glad you agree,” he said in his smooth voice.

BWOMPH!

Jake felt a huge weight crashing down upon him, making him incredibly dazed. Feeling like he’d gotten hit by a truck, the stud shook his head, trying to shake away the daze. “Ugh…” he groaned, rubbing at his face, “what happened, Sport…?”

Jake’s voice trailed off when his fingers grazed his hairy cheeks, his eyes shooting wide open as he felt more hair than he should’ve.

As impossible as it should’ve been, as Jake ran his fingers over his jaw, he felt a lot of hair there. He’d usually had some sexy stubble, but this felt like a full grown beard. The hunk dropped his arms to his side, wincing at how different his body felt.

Jake looked down at himself and gasped loudly.

The first thing he saw was hair. A lot of hair. The coarse, little black hairs covered his whole body, making him incredibly fuzzy. Not only that, but he was way bigger than he should’ve been. With shaky hands, Jake gave his body a tentative poke, paling at how squishy he felt. Where a young, toned man had been sitting was now a bulky, hairy daddy. Muscle was still evident on the hunk’s body, but all of that sexy muscle was now covered by a hot layer of fat and man fur. His abs had completely disappeared, replaced by a large muscle gut that rested on his widened thighs. His hairy pecs were much larger than they should’ve been and they rested upon his new belly, looking large and cumbersome. Plus, his nipples had widened and poked out from his dense chest hair. His arms had packed on some serious size, and they jiggled a little when he moved them, illustrating that he wasn’t nearly as toned as he should’ve been.

And despite his panic, Jake was incredibly horny. His hard cock bobbed out in the air, but his view of it was blocked by his belly.

With disbelieving eyes, Jake looked back at the webcam, seeing that the nerd finally seemed to be enjoying himself. “Sport, what did you do to me?” Jake asked, noting the rougher quality to his voice and the fact that he’d referred to the young man as ‘Sport’. Worse was that the more he stared at the young nerdy guy, the more turned on he felt. He ran his disbelieving hands over his hairy chest, shocked at how good it felt to pet his fuzzy pecs.

“What did I do?” the nerd not-so-innocently asked. “You said that I could call you ‘Daddy’, so I thought that it’d only be fair for you to look the part… Daddy.”

At the word Daddy, Jake felt a shiver of pleasure ripple through him. His nubby nipples grew harder and his cock throbbed with want. Despite his inner panic, Jake was insanely turned on and all he seemed to be able to focus on was getting off.

However, he stared at his computer, seeing the section of his webcam reflected back at him. His face was slightly older, with little wrinkles near his eyes. He had a large beard with little flecks of gray scattered throughout it, completely covering his square jaw. The stud looked like a total daddy, complete with a big daddy belly and plenty of body hair.

Even though he was still freaked out over his transformation, Jake thought that he looked really hot.

Jake couldn’t help but smirk as he bounced his now hairy pecs before he rubbed his fuzzy gut. “You like that, Boy?” he asked in his deeper voice. “You like Daddy’s hairy chest?”

The nerd squirmed in his seat.

Jake felt his heart flutter in his beefy chest. “Yeah you do,” he continued, flexing his beefy arms, showing off his now hairier pits. “You love it when Daddy shows off his big, hairy body.”

“Ooohh,” the nerd whimpered, blushing furiously as he came in his pants.

Jake gave a throaty chuckle, still running his hands over his hairy pecs. “Boys love it when Daddy shows off,” he mused, already getting ideas over how many more clients he could score over being a hot, slutty hairy daddy.

[miley1442111]

(part 8) choices in hindsight- a.donaldson

-------------------------------

-------------------------------

summary: eleven years later.

(dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment and depression, hurt, cheating, loneliness, etc.

PART 8 of 12

-------------------------------

Eleven years later….

You sat beside the umpire, your opponent smashing her racket in frustration as tears fell down her face. You were tired. Every bone in your body ached, your muscles were tense, your skin felt too tight. 

Your mind was worse. Playing tennis since you were a little girl does that to someone. Being in the public eye does that to someone, being alone does that to someone.

“You fucking bitch!” She shouted. “You fucking bitch!”

You didn’t care about it, the match was done, and you’d won. As usual. 

You hated tennis. You hated your life. Your lonely, empty life. 

-------------------------------

“How about a challenger? To boost your motivation?” Your manager, Michael, offered. 

“I’ll do whatever,” you shrugged. 

Michael stopped in front of you, stopping you from walking. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m fine,” you plastered on a fake smile. “Just tired.”

“In what sense?” He asked. He’d always been able to see right through you. You rolled your eyes. 

“In the sense that I’m completely alone and I’m sick of knowing that I’m a winner while I feel like a failure!” You exploded. “Tashi and Art got married. Patrick isn’t anywhere near as good as he was. I have no friends. I have no family. I have nothing but a bunch of cold, metal trophies, and a team who don’t care if I want to play anymore. All they care about is my game. And I fucking hate tennis!” 

Michael stared at you, face hardening. “You really had to do that in front of everyone?” He asked. You looked around. Your team was around you, but so was your next opponent.

“I’m not exactly worried,” you snarled. 

Michael rolled his eyes. “Go win the match, then we’ll let you have some alcohol and you can drown your sorrows.”

“Fuck yourself!” you shouted as he walked away. 

“How can I do that when you’re constantly fucking me over anyways!” He shouted back. 

-------------------------------

Back on the court again. Another subpar player against you. 

HIT. You’re worthless. HIT. You’re awful. HIT. You’re nothing. HIT. You deserve to be lonely. HIT. You deserve to be alone. HIT. You deserve to feel worthless.

HIT. Be better. HIT. Be stronger. HIT. Be more. 

HIT. 

“We have a winner!” 

-------------------------------

“Come on!” Lily shouted from beside him, her eyes on the court as you won, yet again. She’d seen her mother do it so much she was turning it into a catch-phrase. 

“She’s pretty good, right?” He chuckled, his eyes never leaving you. He didn't want to let himself admit it, but god you looked good. The white tennis outfit you had on was practically making him weak in the knees, as well as the 'I don't give a shit' attitude you carried with you. You were simply leaning in your chair, a drink in hand as your opponent screamed to her manager about how unfair playing against you was.

I mean she wasn't wrong. You were the top female tennis player and you were practically unbeatable. You were incredible.

“She’s amazing!” Lily smiled. “When does she play again?”

“Tomorrow,” he answered. He had your schedule memorised. 

“Can I meet her?” 

Art shook his head. “She and mom have a complicated history.” Also, I’m still madly in love with her.

“How so?” Lily asked as he walked with her, hand in hand to the concessions stand. 

“Well, back in college mom and her didn’t get along because mom couldn’t beat her-” he started but he felt Tashi beside him. 

“You’re lying to Lily now?” She snarked. 

Art felt his skin go cold. “No. It’s true-”

“I beat her,” Tashi nodded. “Dad used to date Y/n as well, isn’t that right?”

Art nodded and Lily looked up at him.

“That’s weird,” she confessed. “Why did you break up?”

“I was in love with mom,” Art lied and kissed Tashi on the cheek, the entire display looking awkward and rehearsed. His regret and resentment grew everyday. He’d never regret having Lily, but he regretted everything he did to you, and letting you get away. 

“That’s gross!” She squealed, shielding her eyes from her parents kissing.

“Alright peanut, what do you want?” He asked, moving up in the line and getting ready to order. 

-------------------------------

HIT.  Train harder. HIT. Work harder. HIT. You deserve nothing. 

The ball hit into your side and you groaned out in pain. “Fuck!”

You let yourself rest on the ground, not even bothering to turn off the automatic ball-throwing machine. 

“Hi,” a familiar voice smiled at you. Your eyes opened to find Patrick Zweig over your head. 

“Hi,” you mumbled, getting up. 

“How are you?” he asked, following you as you began to hit the balls again. 

“Fine,” you grunted out. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he smirked, watching your figure as you bent to hit a ball. “Very good.”

“Your dad give you a job yet?” 

Patrick’s fantasy was broken. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, not yet.”

“Too bad. You’d make a much better corporate asshole than the piece-of-shit tennis player you are.”

“Tread easy,” he chuckled, a touch of pathetic begging in his plea. You just rolled your eyes and continued on your exercise. 

“How about you go fuck yourself, Patrick?” Tashi scoffed from the stands, Art beside her. 

“How can I go back to that when she fucks me so well?” He joked. HIT. 

“Leave her alone Pat,” Art sighed. HIT. 

“Why are you defending her?” Tashi questioned, turning to Art. HIT. 

“She is right here in case you don’t see her,” Pat defended. HIT. 

“Pat we fucking know-” Art started, but it just ended up in Tashi talking over him to the point that Patrick started talking over both of them in the argument. 

HIT. HIT. HIT. 

“All three of you can fuck off!” you screamed. “I never want to see your stupid face again Patrick, Tashi you can stop flaunting that you got the love of my life, and Art, go be a dad or something! I don’t care anymore!” 

All three of them turned to you with various faces. Patrick was smirking, happy he’d finally pushed your buttons to the extreme. Tashi looked awkward and caught, maybe even guilty. 

But Art. Art looked at you like you’d hung the stars just for him, then tore it all down in front of him. His beautiful blue eyes filling with tears as he finally got to hear you admit that he was the love of your life, only eleven years too late. 

“I’m content with being alone, as shit as it is. I suggest you all move on from me now,” you sighed, grabbing your bag and walking off to find you manager. 

“See you at the challenger!” Patrick called after you. The ATP Challenger Tour. 

The same one from eleven years ago. 

Where everything fell apart. 

You got that familiar sinking feeling in your stomach.

-------------------------------

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

[elizais]

dazai who doesn't explicitly tell the agency about his lover

how dazai acts when he has a crush/partner outside of the agency reader doesn't work at the agency nor is given a part if that makes sense?? this is dazai not explicitly telling anyone about her but when the agency picks up on it fluff fluff fluff, dazai in love

dazai who walks into the agency day after day, sometimes much later than others but still there nonetheless. walking in and smiling to himself more, his silly little crush on his mind. his silly little crush who he would not let be a quick hookup. he genuinely couldn't shake her out of his mind.

dazai who leaves work giddy one day, excited to go on another date. after completing all his work on his own so he could talk about the case to you. he actually read all the paperwork so he could tell you everything in it! kunikida is a fool to think he actually just started being responsible.

dazai who is seen checking his phone whenever he gets a notification and smiling as he types out something. smiling to himself when he sees your simple or complex messages. despite knowing how much you value someone who cares about work, he is willing to message you all day instead.

dazai who doesn't tell the agency immediately because he doesn't want them to think you are just a fling. he definitely had a bad reputation but he was willing to change everything for you.

dazai who doesn't notice that ranpo notices all of his new mannerisms. fridays must be a date night as he chooses to dress a bit nicer, adjusts his bolo tie before leaving and doesn't just throw his coat around like he usually does. choosing that carefully hanging his coat up would be better to prevent wrinkles.

dazai who only starts telling everyone about his special lady when he is on his phone (messaging you) and is teased by ranpo across the room.

"sooo what is her name, dazai?" the master detective asked as he sat on his desk, kicking his feet. upon hearing his name, osamu was instantly snapped out of his trance. "have i not told any of you?" he smiled. the rest of the agency looked up from their work, confused.

"i thought you gave up on the waitress ages ago?" yosano asked. "i did, months ago!" dazai responded as he walked towards the coat rack that he hung his coat up on. pulling out his wallet, he took out the polaroid of the both of you.

"that's [name]!" he shown the room, kunikida didn't seem to believe him until he took the photo out of dazai's hands. "do you not believe me?" dazai asked, fake offense in his voice.

the rest of the agency began to gather around the photo, in awe of the adorable picture. they had to admit, the moment in time of the two of your heads squished together with grins plastered on both faces.

"my belladonna.." he whispered to himself. "now that i think of it, there have been less suicide attempts.." atsushi pondered. "why would i do such a thing when i have her? at first when she declined a double suicide i was disappointed as she is the most beautiful woman ever but her personality is even prettier.."

this whole new attitude was incredibly different from everything they knew about dazai but if anyone deserved happiness, he did. and if he talks about you like this, then they had to be happy for the both of you.

dazai who after that day, brings a framed photo of the both of you and places it next to his laptop. a messy collage of small photos smashed into a frame. another polaroid with you dressed up with him on halloween. (the statue of liberty and a tourist). another photo of you dressed up at a fancy restaurant. there is even one where you both have messy hair and you have pressed countless kisses to his face with red lipstick on.

dazai who will never let you be in harm's way. he made a promise to protect people and if he could let you meet the man who made him a better person, he would in a heartbeat.

dazai who goes to yosano when you get sick for advice because he will NOT take any risks even if it is just a cold.

dazai who does not wipe off lipstick stains before work, and takes pride in having faint marks on his face from you.

dazai who can't wait to let the people who take care of him meet you, the reason he carries on.

dazai who is so happy when you get along with the rest of the agency. although when you and the agency girls are hanging out he becomes the third wheel.

dazai who talks about you all the time to kunikida, claiming he was an "expert boyfriend" and is more than happy to give kunikida relationship advice.

a/n! so this won the poll!! as always, weekends are writing time for me so please excuse my lack of presence on here from time to time!

[beneathashadytree]

HEY GUYS! LONG POST HERE, BUT PLEASE READ🙏🏽

I am genuinely appalled by the discourse ongoing in the LNDS fandom these past few days—but above all, I am severely disappointed in what had started out as one of the most inclusive and sweet fandoms I’ve ever been in. I have a few things to say, so in this post I’m trying to put all my thoughts to words. Apologies if I sound harsh, but I’m genuinely livid. Also, please ignore any typos. I’m not wearing my glasses while word-vomiting.

First off, for a fandom that is composed of mostly adults, you guys have been acting terribly childishly. It’s 2024, and yet people are still unironically shaming others for “switching up on their favs” as if a person owes 2D characters any loyalty. Let people enjoy things. The novelty of Sylus and how he’s quite literally 6 months behind the other 3 love interests makes people want to catch up on the enjoyment of him all at once. He’s still such a brand new character and concept, so there’s no wonder everyone’s hyped up over him.

I’ve seen people get genuinely mad at other players and writing whole think-pieces about this. I promise you guys, the company making this game is still benefiting whether you’re pouring your money into Sylus or any one of the previous 3. We’re all happy to have an interesting character pop up among the roster now, and we’re taking our time getting to know him. Doesn’t make any of the first 3 any less loved. I genuinely don’t remember this amount of nastiness when solo events for each of the guys used to drop.

In fact, if the popularity thing is worrying you, going off MLQC (the company’s past game) the character who was last added was—eventually, after the initial hype died down—kicked off to the sidelines in most major events and was given the least content, and was the least favorite of fans.

Secondly, and this has my blood boiling, there is an insane amount of entitlement and rudeness I’ve seen on my timeline concerning how people characterize the men—particularly Rafayel.

Absolutely nothing warrants this shitty attitude towards other creators for how they depict characters in their fics. It seems you guys feel protected behind a screen and think it gives you the right to bully strangers online. Fanfiction is for fantasizing about your favs; for letting your imagination run wild. If this were a character analysis, then yes, maybe I’d agree that inaccuracies are aggravating. However, in fanfiction, there are zero rules, especially when it comes to smut.

Sexual preferences are not equivalent to a person’s whole personality—so whether he’s written as a dom, a sub, a switch, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, this has nothing to do with his kindness, gentlemanliness, passion, power, ruthlessness, snark, or whatever minuscule aspect of his character makes up his lovely whole and matters to you.

I think this circles back to a lack of ability to separate sexual matters and personality, because how else do people interpret fics depicting him in a certain manner as them erasing his character? They might overlap, but they can very well be mutually exclusive. I’ve seen incredibly sweet and gentle men irl who were absolute doms in bed, and I’ve seen powerful and passionate men who were reduced to tears between the sheets. There is barely any correlation whatsoever, and if anything, claiming otherwise is what I consider piss-poor media literacy and reading-comprehension.

My third point is that for some reason, there have been many, many posts and replies on here where I’ve seen people just straight-up spread pure hate for the characters. Maybe this bothered me in particular because I’m an OT3 (OT4 now!) and absolutely adore all of them, but I find no logical reason for “yucking someone’s yum” when we’re talking about liking the characters of an Otome game—a genre of video games which is made to literally cater to the tastes of as many people as possible.

It’s especially disheartening to see when it’s at a time like this, when new content is about to drop, and you find in the replies of every other post/discussion at least a few people spewing hate and disgust at Sylus. Again, so many people are incredibly excited about him. Why is there a need to rain on everyone’s parade, especially in such an unsolicited manner?

This fandom originally started as a safe space for people of all races, backgrounds, genders, sexualities, and personalities to bond over our mutual love for characters. All I’ve seen on my TL lately (in terms of discussion) is negativity, and it’s such a fucking let-down. I hope whatever the fuck has happened to this fandom cools down after a bit. It’s probably exaggerated and very in-your-face rn, cause more and more people are downloading LNDS, so the probabilities of finding people being nasty are increasing. But I seriously don’t want to grow to resent this fandom and find myself distancing myself from it to protect my peace.

Let’s all remember to be kind towards other players, to not act entitled or bratty about the characters, and to try and mind our own business if we see content that doesn’t suit our tastes.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Sibling Cat Hybrids: Patricia and Pepper

Deciding to take on hybrids was something you were hesitant to do 

Besides being morally controversial for you, it was a huge hit to your spending money

But you got tired of the faux pride you got donating to hybrid-care facilities 

So instead you decide to walk into a shelter (one with good practices)

And you tell them upfront that you’re willing to open your home and heart to the ones who need you most

Crippled, rejected for looks, attitude problems

The helper lights up and then deflates before asking some leading questions

“Do you like cats?”

And that is how you are given Patricia and Pepper

This sister and brother duo are two sides of the same kind

Patricia has a luxuriously long tail and grooming routine that matches

“Are you illiterate? The signed packet told you I needed to be groomed, shampooed, and conditioned regularly.”

“Well yeah, that’s why I left everything in the bathroom.”

“Hold on! You think I’m doing this myself?! Nuh-Uh, You have so much to learn! Grab the brush and pull up a stool, now!”

Demanding as she is gorgeous Patricia is a cat girl with expensive tastes

Until that day she’ll likely swipe your credit card to buy the incredibly overpriced brand-powered shampoo 

And just curl her lip at you when you confront her

“Don’t cry, if you keep working hard I’m sure you’ll pay it off.”

For as unhelpful and arrogant as she is, her brother is an extreme opposite

“I know you showed us to those extra rooms just for us but i-if you don’t mind my stench I think I can serve you better in your room!”

“What?!”

“I’ll be happy to sleep on the floor! I promise I’ll be useful!”

Pepper’s always so eager to help and talk himself down

You’ll literally have to fight him to make sure he’s sleeping and taking care of himself instead of the home

“P–please I’ll probably eat once I finish cleaning this one last thing.”

“Probably?! No, you look like you’ve lost too much weight!”

“Nooo please!”

This dynamic will be going on for a long while 

You going to work and returning home to find either Pepper in danger needlessly risking his life 

Or Patricia throwing out all of your childhood memorabilia because she felt it was tacky

Maybe for once you shed a tear

Or you yell

Or you just completely shut down from any conversation 

In the end, you leave 

For a long time

Longer than you’d go to the store or even work

You’re just gone

“Pat I think you did it again. You scared them off!”

“I scared them off? Please I know very few people who’d be happy coming home to a corpse.”

“At least I was trying to be useful!”

“I took care of the grooming they didn’t do, that’s plenty generous.”

“Thanks to you, they’re sending us away! I really liked this one!”

“Don’t blame me, you cur! They’re leaving because you appall them!”

They argue for hours

Because they are siblings

And it helps with filling the sound of you going through your nightly routine

By the end of it, both of their hair are sticking out 

they’re pacing while nervously staring at the door

So many thoughts in their head 

The embarrassment of being sent back

The disappointment and scorn from the employees when they return

The pain they felt when you reacted the way you did

The suffocating fear of you leaving them forever

They’ve had absent owners…but they were always that way

You were there even if you sighed and scolded them, you were still there

You might’ve kept to yourself but you didn’t ignore them

At the end of the day, they still ate together with you

… They really didn’t like this

When the lock on the door clicks and the light clicking of a turn begins 

They’re leaping for the door

Capturing you in a hug you can’t escape from

“We missed you! I-I’m very sorry! I fished out and cleaned everything! Please forgive me! And please don’t just send me away! Oh and my brother too.”

“PLEASEDON’TSENDUSAWAYPLEASEDON’TPLEASEPLEASEIMIGHTBEPUSHEDTOSTRAPABOMBTOMYSELFANDBLOWINGUP—”

“Whoa whoa, I’m not sending you guys away. Also, Pepper what was that you were going to say?”

“WAAAAHHHH tHANK THAank YOu! WAHHH” 

After Pepper can breathe, you don’t mind sitting down with them to finally speak

“I’m glad you’re not sending us away. I was certain you found us annoying enough to.”

“Oh no I do find you two annoying.”

“What?! wwwwWAAHHHH!”

“But I’m not going to send you away because of that. Also, I think it’s pretty crummy that I can even do that after all the paperwork I signed.”

“WAHH! I’M ANNOYING!?”

“Yes, Pepper now shush. That’s very mature of you I also appreciate your honesty.”

 Ultimately they relax when it comes to being sent away

But they’re worried that you barely address your annoyance 

“Even my friends annoy me. It’s not that bad.”

“But it is. I–we pushed you so far…we’d like not to do this again.”

“I-I think…Pat and I just want to please you…maybe more than just what your morals allow.”

Thus a new routine has begun

One that won’t have you leaving for hours on end

“Good Evening dirt on my heels, who’s going to give me a gift big enough to buy that Prada collar I’ve been eying?”

Now Patricia streams finding a small group of people willing to fund her interests allowing her to contribute to the home 

Pepper continues to clean up the house but with new parameters

“Here (Y/n)! I took pictures of me eating all my meals today! See? Now can I get head pats?”

This works allowing them not to get on your nerves while you navigate life with your two hybrids

If they have any say in it that’ll be all you’ll be aware of

On the other side, Patricia and Pepper are taking their independence very seriously

“Pepper, did you finish your dossier on the coworker who called yesterday?”

“I did, here’s the file. I’ve already gone to the trouble of mapping out their routine; highlighting the best times depending on the method we use.”

“Good work. Now next report?”

“Yes! I found this while cuddling (Y/n) last night~ They got all giggly when I touched a specific spot with my tail.”

“...Last night where was I?”

“Dealing with the neighbor’s loud little pest.”

“Right…For equal treatment, I’ll be initiating our cuddle session tonight.’

“Hahaha…nice imagination Patty but that’s my job.”

Somehow fighting between the siblings still persist but you’d take that over the stalemate you two had before

[creativewritersposts]

not true - Luke Hughes

summary; Luke Hughes x f!reader. You're daydreaming and writing fanfiction about your favorite player until he reads one.

warning(s); maybe grammar errors, angst, fluff

author's note; it's a mix from my old blurbs/imagines in a new one. Part 2 ?

--------------------------------------------------------------

Does anyone know the moment, having a crush on an unknown, famous person? Like saving pictures on your phone and using as wallpaper and thinking about how is it to know this person?

You have this moment. It's no secret you're daydreaming much but you're crushing on Luke Hughes for a weeks now. His curls, his smile, his whole attitude looks perfect. You're in your own world thinking how your life would look like- three perfect Luke baby's, a big house and a cute dog. Yeah, you're daydreaming too much.

"I wrote a new Luke fic, wanna read it?", you speak to your internet friend.

It's not like you don't have friends in real life- but talking with them about cute hockey players you don't feel comfortable with. It's your little secret.

"Sure", she replies and excitement swings in her voice. You send this short story with a proud grin, it took you hours to finish it.

"You have to post this! I love it!", screams Jess through the phone speaker.

"I'll do", copy it in your blog and posting it. You're reading nice comments, when a new notification comes on your screen.

'I'm definitely not the worst cook'. That's it, no profile picture, no caption who this person is. It could be fake. Luke Hughes would never read fanfiction about himself.

You're typing fast, 'who are you?'

An reply comes fast.

'Luke Hughes'

You laugh hysterical, someone wants to fail you. Without an answer you go to bed. It's too much information for you and it's late.

A phone call is waking you up, it's vibrating nonstop next to your bed, tired you grab after your phone, "hello?". Your raspy voice is not powerful.

"WHY IS LUKE HUGHES FOLLOWING YOU", Jess talks without friendly manners.

"No he's not, maybe fake", you rub your eyes. It's too early.

"No it's Luke himself! I'm not blind", she talks nonstop like a waterfall.

You check your Instagram - hundreds of new followers and she's right- Luke Hughes started following you.

"I have no clue", you get in shock. You're still dreaming, there's no other explanation for this.

"You better find out why", Jess laughs happy for you. "I'm not living in New Jersey so I don't think there are chances".

You dressed up, went to work and forgot the time like always - until something rings on the phone again.

The phone rings the last hours more than in your entire life.

"I'm not a bad cook", notification from Luke Hughes himself.

The curly man with incredible hockey skills and two hockey brothers and a legend as mom. This Luke Hughes who's your wallpaper like everywhere you use.

You dance with the phone in your hands before you reply. Breath in, breath out; let's go.

"Ok". Not that bad. Unimpressed.

"I can prove you. I'll cook dinner for you".

Dude, there is some space between you two. You don't think he has a private jet.

"I don't live in New Jersey", you smirk whilst sending him. You're a fangirl but not a puck bunny.

"I have a car", with an winking emoji. How can he dare to be such a tease?

Before you could react he calls per chat, his face comes on the screen, his cap on his head, tired looking face. "Hey", he smirks chill and pets his curls.

"Hello", you wave awkwardly. You're in work clothes so you don't look stylish. "Can you give me your adress?", he asks with a voice crack. "I'm not for one night, Hughes", you warn him. You're disappointed, you always thought he's a gentleman.

"Oh no not this way!", his face gets closer to the screen, "you know I love all my fans but I'm really interested to meet you. Not as what you think", he shyly says. He bites on his lip, waiting for your answer. Honestly you don't know how to react. "I'm not a supermodel. And I like to eat, not just salad", you tell him. "Why are you guys always thinking we just like supermodels?", he's frightened. "Because you follow 45 blonde models on Instagram", the answer comes out your mouth like a pistol.

"Instagram is not real life. Do you like meat?", he's still interested in this conversation.

"Yeah", "ok my navigation says I'm there in 3 hours so better be prepared for the best meal you ever ate!", "wait you know my address?", you get worried. "Your friend Jess told me", he laughs shy.

"Oh my God I'm gonna kill her for that",you mumble to yourself. "Do you want to meet me? Your friend told me you're interested, too", he bites in his nails. "yes!!", you scream louder than you should.

"See you later!", he laughs friendly and closes the video chat.

Your poor heart.

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | six

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: fighting, mentions of ptsd, just some fluff, enemies becoming friends and becoming lovers

Days and weeks passed, and Nimue found different ways to entertain herself and pass the time.

She had learned to appreciate Nesta's company, Feyre's older sister, with whom she spent long hours in silence, reading, sitting side by side in the library. She was a rough and direct person, but there was something that made them understand and fit together, like two sides of the same coin. Perhaps it was the fact that both had been inside the Cauldron that made Nimue understand her attitude, even though the others didn't.

She also spent long hours sitting with Rhysand. Sometimes Feyre, Morrigan, Amren, Cassian were present. Never Azriel.

They asked questions, and she answered the best she could: where the bulk of Hybern's forces were located, how many troops it had, who supported the King among Prythian's courts, what he was going to do with the Cauldron...

For many, she didn't have the answer, and she couldn't ignore that feeling of uselessness when she shrugged at their questions. She should have known all that. Her father didn't trust her in the slightest, not even to entrust her with the most absurd of information.

She had also started spending time with Amren, with whom she could spend hours and hours talking about the world, about magic, about how everything was related. They shared their own perspectives on the world, as Nimue found in the small female an equal: two ancient and powerful minds trapped in bodies that were too small for them.

However, the knowledge that Amren transmitted to her about Prythian's history was incredibly vast. Yes, Nimue had knowledge of the things the Cauldron had transmitted to her, but she still had so much to learn that she couldn't help but tremble with excitement.

On the other hand, Nimue also felt drawn to the fragile Elain. Like with Nesta, she felt a connection with the female, due to her relationship with the Cauldron. The Cauldron itself had said it, it had given her two sisters, and Nimue felt her chest swell just thinking about it.

According to Nesta, the Elain she saw now was a mere shadow of what she had always been in reality: a sweet and bright girl, warm like the spring sun, but extinguished by the traumatic experience of the Cauldron.

However, on rare occasions, when she and Nesta sat in silence reading in the company of the quiet and lost Elain, Nimue would look up from the book to find the middle sister smiling at her, a smile that the princess gladly returned.

On the other hand, she had begun to forge a sweet and slow friendship with Feyre: they sat together to have tea (Cassian had taught her, what a wonderful beverage), and the brunette told her story, from the harsh poverty and through Tamlin and the Spring Court, to Rhysand and the Inner Circle.

Nimue couldn't help but marvel at seeing Azriel through Feyre's eyes, as she told her what she had experienced with them.

She was gaining everyone's trust little by little, building it day by day with small demonstrations. However, Azriel kept slipping away.

Sometimes she felt a flash of something on the other end of the bond: joy, anger, disappointment, surprise. She supposed it was moments when Azriel let his guard down and his emotions escaped through the invisible thread that connected them.

When she crossed paths with him in the hallways, he simply looked away and walked past. When everyone in the house gathered for dinner and they coincided next to each other, Azriel didn't open his mouth all night or engaged in conversation with whoever was on his other side.

Nimue wanted to get closer to him. She wanted to know him, to see him with the eyes with which Feyre saw him: a loyal and good male to the core, willing to sacrifice everything for his people and with incredible insight. A trained warrior with a dark past that Feyre didn't tell her much about.

So she began to get up before the Sun shone in the sky. She dressed appropriately and cheerfully made her way to the training field that Cassian had shown her. There, every morning without fail, she found the two Illyrian males training: with swords, with spears, with daggers, with fists...

Every time Cassian saw her cross the training yard's gate, he couldn't help but burst into laughter. On the other hand, Azriel rolled his eyes and was already in a bad mood for everything he had left to do that morning.

But he couldn't help but think how funny the situation was, seeing Nimue arrive there morning after morning, sit and watch them train with a sweet smile on her face, sometimes with her gaze lost following some birds flying around her.

Azriel wanted to be angry. He wanted not to trust her, he wanted to see her as an enemy, he wanted to convince himself that she wasn't clean.

But it was so, so difficult for him.

It was so difficult for him to convince himself that she was a spy for her father. Especially when he caught her alone in the hallways of the house, asking out loud for any kind of sweet or cake and eating it as if it were the first in her life. Especially when he saw her reading silently in the library, next to Nesta and with a smile on her face for whatever she was reading.

Especially, when at dinners he caught her staring at him, with furrowed brows. Azriel pretended not to notice. But he always saw her on the other side of the table, oblivious to all the conversations around her, gripping the knife and fork and staring at him, with that expression of incomprehension that reminded him so much of a sulky child.

He wanted to maintain that facade and not give in. But it was so difficult for him to ignore that feeling, that pressure in his chest every time he saw her, every time he perceived her scent of sea salt and belladonna poison in the house's rooms.

Especially at night when he got into bed, he found it hard to ignore the emotions that slipped through the bond: half asleep and with his guard down, Nimue let out such waves of loneliness and melancholy from her end of the bond that sometimes Azriel felt like he was going to cry himself.

So, one morning, amidst the thick morning fog and the singing of the newly awakened birds, he headed towards Nimue on the training field, under Cassian's surprised gaze.

"Why don't you show us how you fight in Hybern?" he said. Nimue stood up like a spring, her face tinged with excitement. Azriel had to take several deep breaths to assimilate the amount of joy that went straight to his chest. He cleared his throat, "Just to know what to expect in case of a battle."

"Of course."

Nimue walked up to Cassian, who volunteered to fight against the princess first.

"No magic, just hand-to-hand combat. I must also add that I don't usually fight against women, but it doesn't mean I'm going to–"

Cassian hadn't finished speaking when Nimue gave him a series of blows so fast that not even Azriel could register: first stomach, then knees, neck, and finally a finishing blow that left the Illyrian lying face down on the ground and groaning.

Azriel let out a laugh almost without thinking, and when he felt Nimue's gaze on him, he did everything to hide it.

"For the Mother," Cassian coughed, getting up as best he could from the ground. "Warn before."

"If I warned you, it would lose all the fun," she said, smiling. She turned to the Shadowsinger and pointed at him with her finger, "Now you, pretty face."

Azriel felt a chill run from his heels to his crown, and swallowed to prevent his thoughts from wandering further.

Around his shoulders and wings, his shadows fluttered as they laughed softly.

How funny she is.

Yes, very funny.

And pretty.

Yes, we want to touch her and smell her. She smells really good.

Azriel clicked his tongue and shook his head, heading towards the princess. He positioned himself at a safe distance to avoid a surprise attack like the one she had used with Cassian, and in a defensive stance, he couldn't help but give her a wicked smile.

"You'll see what this pretty face is capable of."

At a speed only a fully trained soldier could move, Nimue traced a parabola towards Azriel, approaching from his left side and crouching to avoid any counterattack. He prepared to receive the blow, contracting the muscles of his abdomen.

But the blow never came.

Nimue fell to her knees, fists raised just an inch from Azriel's body.

"I can't," she whispered. She dropped her arms to her sides and stood up, face to face with Azriel. "I'm physically unable to harm you. I can't."

Azriel frowned, internalizing every feature of the female: the arch of her eyebrows, the angle of her eyes, the light of the first rays of the sun reflected in her iris, that slight tremor on the left side of her lip that he had noticed occurred when she was tense...

He never had the pleasure to be this close to her, the only times such a thing happened he was so blinded by rage that he couldn't appreciate such a raw beauty.

He snapped out of his reverie and entered back into that mental state of combat.

Taking advantage of Nimue's distraction, he prepared to aim a direct punch at her jaw.

But just an inch away, his body stopped completely, as dictated by a greater force.

Stop.

His hand immediately unclenched, and under his own gaze, he saw how his body acted alone and by instinct: as if drawn by a magnet, his own hand rested on Nimue's cheek, who buried her face further in that sudden contact.

They held each other's gaze, unable to act upon that pure and raw instinct. Azriel's hand on Nimue's face, his thumb tempting fate on the corner of the princess's lip.

Even through the leather glove, he could feel the warmth emanating from Nimue, like that of a bonfire on a cold winter night.

The princess raised her right hand, gripping the Shadowsinger's forearm and ensuring he didn't stop touching her.

She didn't want him to ever stop.

No one had ever touched her like that, with pure warmth. She felt like she was burning wherever the male touched her.

She didn't want Azriel to ever stop touching her.

But Azriel snapped out of his reverie, again, and as fast as lightning, he moved away from the female, breaking all physical contact.

At his side, the hand that had felt the sweet touch of her skin kept clenching, as if asking for more.

Such soft skin.

Let's touch it again.

He had gone too far, letting himself be carried away by the raw instinct that bond imposed on him.

Yes, it had to be that.

He definitely didn't want to get lost again in the gray eyes of that female, clear as the light of the brightest star in the sky.

Definitely not.

Feeling the heat rise to his face, he hurried to leave the training field before his own shadows came up with the Mother knows what, leaving behind a confused Nimue.

What had just happened?

What had all that been about, why had it felt so natural, so good?

Cassian had watched the whole scene, apart, with his mouth shut and thinking about who he would run to tell first: Feyre or Morrigan.

Maybe both at the same time.

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @donttellthecats @annblvd @annamariereads16 @crazylokonugget @smoooothoperator

[eternalsa2z]

DM In Your DMs

You were introduced by your friend Nally. After plenty of teasing and toying and asking if you were sure you were ready to meet this model. Not just excited. Like busting out of your seat and bra ready.

You insisted that you were and the Instagram reveal didn't disappoint. She goes by the name 'Doll Mistress' and she is H - O - T HOT HOT HOT. She looked like a queen in her full glory, her gaze admiring her many worshipers as she gives them a brief glance at her perfection.

She def had a bit of a 'rich bitch' or 'ice queen' vibe, which normally doesn't match your sweet girly vibes. Even if her look still made you melt into a puddle. But that doesn't mean she can't rock a bit of a girl next door look. You know, if that girl was an heiress at the next mansion over in the gated community.

Still you couldn't help but be obsessed by this look. Her pony was clearly a fake extension and her faux fur boots were a bit much. But then again that fit her vibes, doesn't it? As if she was saying:

"I'm pretty. I'm plastic. I don't care who knows. Worship me"

Gawd what you wouldn't give to worship in front of Doll Mistress. You'd die if she slipped into your DMs. Or at least you died and went to heaven. Because one day, late in your timezone and early in hers, she sent you a message.

"Hello Kiki. I heard you were a pretty cute bimbo doll who's been having some stupid bullies say mean things. Why don't you let Doll Mistress take care of them...then we can go on a date"

You of course, through your bimbo babbling in sheer fangirling, manage to explain that while you love the support, you are a committed bimbo. Her next DM makes it clear that she's simply chuckling at your cuteness.

"Oh I know. I'm not looking for a relationship. Just a doll to play with"

True to her word, the homophobes and patriarchy pushers slowly disappear from your site. You also notice a corresponding uptick in extra girly, submissive bimbos talking up how pretty you are. It's great because you need the pep talk ahead of your first date...er, totally platonic meeting.

You spend forever picking out your outfit. You need to look perfect. Make a good impression for Mistress. You end up looking cute - but she shows up looking stunning, showing up to your date dressed in feminine finery. Making baby boy blue look as good as girly pink.

She has a beautiful floral adornment right around her throat. Perhaps it's a metaphor for her tight grasp on femininity. Or perhaps a future indication of how soon her ice queen grip will extend to a beautiful bimbo flower like yourself. You squeeze your legs together during the whole meal, imagining the second scenario.

She has you in her clutches from that day on. You're obsessed with her beautiful face and hair. Envious of her fashionable clothes. Above all else, in awe of her attitude and how she rocks her look to the fullest.

The next time you meet in person, your Doll Mistress casually drags a fur coat behind her, like the expensive treasured item is nothing to her.

God what you wouldn't give to be that coat…dragged around behind her…following in her footsteps. She's so incredible. You can't even say anything intelligent, just "OMG!" over and over again as she arrives. Her plush lips curl into a smile, a rare sighting worth more than her entire wardrobe.

"I'm glad you like my look, Kiki. You could be seeing a lot more of it. Come with me. Be my doll."

It's three months later. You and your wife have moved in with Doll Mistress. She spoils and pampers your wife, slowly turning her into a little plastic trophy, a mini-version of herself. You, on the other hand, are her pretty little doll. The one she brings everywhere, even stowing you away in a custom dollbox in her luggage when she travels on vacation. It's worth it to spend time with her and relax at the Bimbo Resort.

"Kiki? Mistress is out of her glass of BMBO. Won't you be a doll and scurry over to the cabana to get me a refill?"

"Yes Mistress! Of course Mistress! Anything you want!" you squeal excitedly, eager to be helpful.

"Good girl. If you return fast enough, I'll let you lotion up my back again" she purrs.

Quickly you bound away as fast as your high heels, wiggling butt, and jiggling bimbo titties will let you. Mistress has been so generous in turning you into her little bimbo pet. Serving her drinks is the least you can do for her!

Plus…the enticing thought of being allowed to touch her perfect plastic body…that's all the payment a doll like you needs. Just a bimbo doll serving her Doll Mistress.