#cause i just want to talk!! about anything.. everything

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟛 – 𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕟 ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕔

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

Part 1 𝜗𝜚 Part 2

𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚞𝚣𝚣𝙲𝚞𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Warning: language, pet names, kissing, angst, accidental cheating, manipulation, cheating, skype sex, sex toys, mutual masterbation, mentions of a sex tape, swearing, degredation, dom!rafe, multiple orgasms, overstim., brief oral (fem. receiving), Cam takes the toy and starts using it on her, he also performs brief oral without verbal constant

📖 After meeting Rafe's (CurtainBangs!) twin brother Cam (BuzzCut!) for the first time, Rafe gives you a proposal you can't help but accept: sharing you. What Rafe didn't expect was his jealousy… And what you didn't expect was a text from Cam a week later wanting to see you again.

Reader’s POV:

The text from Cam sat there staring at you. Miss me? ‘Cause I need you princess.’ Those words carry the weight of everything you hadn’t even gotten to process yet. You pace the apartment, thinking about the next steps, your thoughts battling—looping on an endless cycle. Cam’s text wasn’t just a message… That was an invitation.

Rafe told you the night was supposed to mean nothing, but it meant an awful lot. It was supposed to be something fun, maybe a one-time thing… Something Rafe said he had done in the past, but something had changed when it came to you. There were feelings there far beyond anything he had felt before. Now you’re left standing in the aftermath a week later, feeling like the ground is shifting underneath you.

Cam is Rafe’s brother… His fucking twin. Someone he trusts–someone he brought into your life without hesitation. But to you, Cam wasn’t just Rafe’s brother anymore. That night created something new between you that you didn’t think you could handle…

Grabbing your phone, you sit on the couch, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

You: Okay.

The word stares back at you… Simple, but heavy. Sending this message without talking to Rafe first… what am I thinking? But, in a way, it wasn’t just you and Rafe anymore. Rafe had opened that door… And you weren’t ready to close it.

I can’t. You toss your phone down on the couch cushion beside you, heart banging in your chest. Walking to your room, you gather your things, desperately needing to get out of the house and clear your mind. Maybe time is exactly what I need; you think to yourself as you grab your keys and head toward the door.

You bite your lips, guilt creeping in as you come to terms with the fact that Cam is Rafe’s brother… If I don't say anything at all, he’d come regardless. Rafe takes what he wants, and he doesn’t go down with a fight. Hopefully, that runs in the family.

You look down at your phone, the message still sitting there unsent. Your stomach twists as you think about Rafe’s admittance last week in the bedroom. How blindsided would he be if he knew you had been thinking about this as much as you have–letting it affect you the way it is?

Again, you set your phone down and roll out the tension in your neck, weighing the pros and cons and analyzing the risk. As you tip your head back on the couch, you hear your phone buzz. You grab it off the couch cushion, half-expecting another text from Cam, until you see Unkown.

“Hey,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but you can hear the waver.

“Hey, princess,” Rafe replies, his voice warm and familiar, helping ease your tension. You can hear the commotion of the hotel lobby in the background, the faint hum of noise as the boys gear up to head out to the stadium. “What are you up to, baby?”

You glance at the TV ESPN College GameDay, already loaded. It should be a simple answer… But your mind is a mess, making it hard to wade through your thoughts.

“Baby?” He tries in a gentle voice. “You there?”

“Mhmm…” You hum, pushing the utterance past your lips. “Just scrolling Tumblr, waiting for the game to start; relaxing.”

“Good,” he drawls, his voice warm and smooth. “Just wanted to make sure you got the game to load.”

You pause and close your eyes, feeling the weight of your messages from Cam pushing down on your chest. The words are already forming in your throat. “Rafe,” you blurt.

“Yo,” he laughs nervously. “Uhh… You good, baby?”

You clear your throat, feeling heat pool in your cheeks. “Yeah… I–I got a text from Cam.”

The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening. You listen closely, hearing the lobby noise come through a little louder. “Uh, what? What did he say, baby?” He finally asks, keeping his tone calm.

“He said he wants to see me,” you whisper, met with more silence from Rafe.

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles. “He’s my brother… ‘Course he can’t stay away.” There’s a lightness to his tone as if he’s not at all surprised. The tension in your shoulders falls slightly at his response. Unsure of what his response would be—anger or jealousy—no part of you expected this. “You’re fine, princess. Just got in my head a little bit last weekend. It’s not a big deal, aight?”

“Okay…” You breathe, the nagging want to ask if it’s okay if he can come over replacing the previous discomfort. “Is it alright if he does?”

“Yeah, baby. I'll give him a quick call when we off.”

“You sure?” You ask uneasily.

“You gotta relax, baby. I wouldn’t have introduced the two of you if I was worried… I never worry about you.” You take a deep breath, pressing it out slowly, listening to Rafe’s light laugh on the other end. “Stop worryin’, pretty.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“C’mon... You’re my girl. I need you happy before I go out on the field or I'm not gonna be able to concentrate on shit.”

“I’m your girl,” you answer sweetly. “I’m fine. Just fine baby. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Rafe adds.

“I’m excited to watch you play,” you smile.

“Mmm… That’s my girl,” he hums. “I’ll call you when I get back to the hotel tonight. Shouldn’t be too late, aight?”

“Sounds perfect,” you reply.

The phone clicks off, leaving you with your thoughts in the apartment's quiet. Rafe’s trust was absolute, making everything much more complicated when you knew you were about to step outside your relationship without him knowing—especially now, discovering he had been okay with it all along.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the storm inside you. Looking at the screen, you try your best to relax, smiling as you see your boyfriend’s face pop up.

After a while, the game was on, and Rafe was playing like a star. The commenters praised Rafe, his name coming through the speakers repeatedly, leaving your thoughts ping-ponging between both boys—back and forth, back and forth–the grip on your phone getting tighter by the second.

Buzz.

Cam: Out front

Your eyes widen as you see the notification, making all of those thoughts come to a screeching halt.

Just like you had guessed, Cam didn’t wait for your response, taking the Cameron approach to the matter, leaving you relieved and nervous, stressed and elated, completely fuckin’ torn as you walked to the door. Your body trembles with adrenaline as you grab the handle.

Rafe said it was ‘okay.’ So why am I still so nervous? You feel a familiar rush as you look into his beautiful eyes–that same feeling bubbling just under the surface as it had been night one.

“Hey, baby,” Cam smiles, his voice deep and warm. “M’sorry for just coming. You can tell me to fuck off. I just–I couldn’t wait any longer.” You swallow thickly as he steps closer, waiting for a response.

“It’s fine,” you whisper. “I’m sorry I didn’t respond. I just didn’t–” Your words get swallowed in a deep, uneasy breath.

“You didn’t know if Rafe would be okay with it,” he answers for you. You look up at him, feeling overwhelmed.

“Yeah…”

“I didn’t think he’d agree either, but he came around,” he assures you as he wraps his arm around your waist. You draw a sharp little breath, and before you can speak, he captures your lips in a tender kiss.

He chuckles breathily against your lips as he feels you tremble in his arms.

“You’re good, alright? We got you.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, looking up at him, your nails scratching into his tight buzz cut. “Okay.”

“Atta girl,” he soothes as his lips travel along your cheeks and neck, pressing gentle kisses on top.

“I missed you,” you whisper. He lets out a delighted groan, squeezing you as he lifts you off your feet into a hug.

“Fuck… I missed you too, sweetheart. Haven't stopped thinkin’ about you.”

“Neither have I.” You bury yourself in his arms for a few more moments.

“… Relax,” teases again, and you melt in his arms a little more. You let out a laborious laugh before drawing a deeper breath than you have in days. “Now let’s watch this jackass play ball, huh?” Cam sets you down on the ground, walking into the living room. His fingers stay laced in yours, eyes tracing your body as he follows you. “You look good. Fuck, you look pretty, baby,” he hums.

You let out a little gasp and a laugh as he crashes down on the couch, pulling you on top of him as the second half starts. He wraps you up in his big arms, your head resting on his muscular chest.

You listen to his level breathing and the steady beating of his heart as the game goes on. His big, rough fingers trace your spine lazily during commercial breaks, making your entire body feel electric from that simple touch alone.

You watch proudly as your boyfriend stands with the other team captain for the post-game interview, grinning ear to ear. The interviewer kicks it back to the ESPN studio, leaving Cam with your full attention.

The corners of Cam’s lips curl into the prettiest smile, making your stomach flutter. “Princess…” He mumbles as you rest your chin resting on his chest.

“Mhmm,” you hum.

“I don’t think I could have stayed away even if Rafe said ‘no,’” he whispers, his voice just above a hush. You can tell those words hadn’t left his lips easily— like he had been thinking about them since he left. And, like you, he knew that feeling that was wrong, too.

“Me either,” you breathe, answering honestly.

“We don’t need to tell him, alright?” He asks. “Can you keep that between you and me? I just don’t wanna have him get in the way of this– you and I. Of course, you two still have each other, but I think what we have is different.”

“I think so, too,” you whisper.

The post-game show droned on, and then the highlights of the day’s games, all just background noise as the two of you fell into a steady rhythm together: talking, joking, and snuggling as the warmth of his body pressed against yours. You could feel the connection between the two of you growing stronger, a bond you hadn’t anticipated this early hitting you hard and fast–absolutely impossible to forget.

Buzz.

You watch as your phone trembles on the coffee table with a new message from Rafe, letting you know he is back at the hotel and waiting. “It’s Rafe,” you beam; Cam’s expression softens as he brushes some hair off your face.

“Sounds good, baby…”

You step off the couch and walk toward the bedroom. Pulling open the laptop, you look across the room, fixing your hair and outfit in the mirror as Skype loads.

“Babygirl,” you hear Rafe cheer. His loud voice breaks the speakers a little, crackling in the feedback with his post-win excitement. You swoon, looking at the pretty boy on the other side of the screen. “Get the fuck out, Maybank,” he scoffs.

“What, you’re not gonna let me watch,” JJ smiles and winks as he sees you on Rafe’s end. Rafe shoves him out of focus–the two bickering back and forth, getting their jabs in between laughs. “Goodnight, sweetheart,’ JJ calls to you.

“Yeah, you too, bitch,” Rafe smiles, flicking off the cornerback as he continues to accost Rafe ‘til the door shuts, the room falling silent.

“Hey, princess!” Rafe hums in a deeper tone, glowing with pride and excitement.

“Fuck, baby. That was a good game,” you smile as you crawl closer.

He gets easily distracted, seeing you in his jersey, making your excitement rise as well. “Look at you,” he praises as he leans in a little closer.

“You look good too, baby. Is that new?” You giggle and wink, the man already knowing where you're going as you eye up his new sweatshirt.

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s all yours, baby,” he chuckles and his plays with the strings a little before pulling off the hood. “N’thank you, sweetheart. We did alright.”

“Alright?” You puff. “You were amazing.”

He laughs that laugh, running his fingers through his hair. “I wish I had you here to celebrate with me, pretty.” His tone softens as he looks at you; you can tell he means every word. You look over your computer, watching as Cam walks into the room and takes a seat atop the dresser. “Hate leavin’ you alone on a Saturday night,” your stomach falls, eyes fluttering at his words.

“Oh…” Your heart and mind start to race. “I wish I was there too.” Your voice breaks with adrenaline as you try to explain it away in your mind… Maybe he just means without him? Alone… without him?

“You should go out or somethin’... Get some air, have a little fun, get a drink for me. I’ll be home tomorrow, and we can celebrate then, okay?” You nod quickly, trying to push that uneasy feeling aside.

I mean, I got a call from him before the game… I talked to Rafe. Am I going fucking crazy?

“I’ll be fine,” you smile, feeling your lips tremble.

“Missed our pregame chat… And our post-game shower for sure,” he chuckles sleazily.

You look at Cam, he holds your gaze for a moment before burying his face in his hands. No.

“You doin’ okay, baby?” Rafe asks as he cocks his head slightly, looking back at you. “After last week n’all? Seems like you've had a lot on your mind.”

“Mhmm… m’fine,” you answer far too casually for how uneasy you look now.

“Good, baby. That’s good,” he smiles. “So, uhh... You still up for a little fun tonight, princess?”

Cam looks up to the ceiling, fighting his own internal battle. I mean, he lied… He pretended to be Rafe–his own brother, the man who told him to stay away. He throws his gaze back down to the floor, nodding to himself as he pulls himself to his feet, and right when he goes to step toward the door, you reach down, pulling Rafe’s jersey over your head, leaving you in nothing but a lace bra and panties, acting before you can even think it through.

His head turns toward you, and the man draws a deep breath as his eyes fall down your body, taking you in like the first time. Your eyes return to the computer screen, watching Rafe do the same. A deep moan comes through your speakers; his pretty blue eyes rolling back in his skull.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighs blissfully, tearing himself out of his shirt. You settle back down on the mattress, thighs spread wide as you look back at Rafe, watching out of the corner of your eye as Cam walks back, taking a more comfortable position on a chair as his darkened eyes lay set on you.

“Why did you stop, baby?” You ask Rafe, letting your eyes flick up to Cam’s as well, running on pure adrenaline. “Strip.”

Rafe chuckles darkly, and Cam smiles and bites his lip, catching the direction meant for both of them. Cam quickly pulls himself out of his shirt as well, making your mind swirl. You feel yourself growing wetter by the second, the chill of the wet lace clinging to your hot skin. And just like clockwork, the two boys pull down their pants, crashing back down onto the seat and the bed, their boxers tented out by their big cocks.

You bite your lip and smile as you reach behind your back, unclasping your bra and holding the lace to your chest as your hand shakes like a leaf, but you can’t stop. “You gonna be a tease, princess?” Rafe asks through a laugh. “M’not there to discipline you. You gonna test me, or are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Always a good girl for you, baby,” you whisper as you flick your bra to the floor.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans as he paws off his last bit of clothing, his long, thick clock hitting his tight abs with a smack as Cam quickly does the same. Goosebumps bloom across your skin and your body, riding an indescribable high. “Got that video, baby?” Rafe asks.

“Mhmm…” You prop up your phone on your computer, pushing play, listening to your soft giggle and Rafe's low moan swell through the phone’s tiny speaker.

“Do you have the video, baby?” You ask as your right-hand drifts between your thighs, rubbing your clit lightly through the fabric. You see a flicker of movement out of the top of your eyes as Cam licks his lips hungrily.

“‘Course I do, princess… I’ve been thinkin’ about it all fuckin’ day.”

Cam straightens up a little, his view obstructed by the laptop, desperately wanting to watch you play with your pussy. He stands up from his seat, his fat cock standing straight–his swollen head already leaking with precum sheened at the tip as he walks to the edge of the bed, taking a seat.

Your fingers work a little quicker, teasing both boys with what they can’t touch. Your head falls back, a soft moan leaving your lips with every even breath. You look down at Rafe, watching his big fist wrap around his thick cock, stroking slowly.

“Take off your panties, baby,” Rafe mumbles. You drag the wet material down your thighs, flicking them to Cam, making the beautiful boy take his bottom lip between his teeth as he runs the material through his big fingers. He rubs this thumb across the wetness, lifting it to his lips to suck it clean with his eyes on you.

“You look so pretty on camera, princess… Tell me why I’m takin’ my eyes off you again?” Rafe chuckles, his eyes dancing between you and the home movie on his phone, the man on Cloud 9.

“I love having your attention, Daddy,” you smile as you glide your fingers wet through your slick folds, “gets me wet,” you tease as you bring them back up to your clit hating yourself for how comfortable you feel—not hating yourself enough to quit.

“So fuckin’ dirty, princess. I love it,” he hums as he starts to stroke his dick a little faster, getting off at the sight of you, spitting on his cock for lube.

Your eyes shift slightly, biting back as you smile as Cam wraps the pretty lace around the base of his thick length, hissing at the contact as he wraps himself tight. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, the boys holding back their sounds just to hear more of it as they watch you close.

You lean out of the screen, reaching into the nightstand, pulling out a vibrator, showing it off for the camera. “Fuck, baby,” Rafe hums as he adjusts slightly, forgoing the video altogether as he catches a glimpse of your toy, “you’re killin’ me.” You look up at Cam, the desperation in his eyes, fighting back his praise and pleasured sounds with his life.

“Babygirl,” Rafe murmurs as his eyes rake over your naked body, the tip of the vibrator replacing your fingers on your sex. “Stop fuckin’ with me.” Chills fall down your spine as you hear Rafe’s deep, commanding voice.

“What do you want, Rafe?” You ask breathily as you push it a little deeper between your thighs, tracing your slit before showing it to the boys; the head drenched with your wetness.

“Shittt… Turn it on,” he mumbles as his breathing quickens, the gold chain on his chest catching the light.

“Yes, Daddy,” you turn it on, making a show of it as the length of it twirls and shakes. You can feel how drenched you are, your drooling hole leaking down your inner thigh. You gasp as the silicone tip meets your plush skin, tracing through the mess before lifting your eyes to Rafe.

“Push it in, pretty.” You gasp as the vibrations hit your clit, muscles jolting from the contact, that shock quickly turning into pleasure. Your thighs tremble as you ghost the tip over your puffy clit, pussy clenching around nothing. “Fuckin’ push it in,” Rafe moans. “Damn, you’re evil for this, baby. Shit… Just wait for tomorrow night I fuckin’ swear-”

“Shit!” You squeal; both boys’ moans cancel each other out as you stuff the toy inside your aching core. Your eyes shift between Rafe and Cam as they work their fists over their throbbing dicks.

“Play with that shit. C’mon, baby. C’mon,” Rafe pleads through a deep groan as he watches you close.

“So pretty, baby. Shit, you look so damn good,” Cam mumbles under his breath as he watches the toy fuck in and out of you, keeping your pace with your strokes.

You let out a hoarse cry as you find your g-spot, the little vibrating nub pressing against your clit perfectly. Your breathing starts to quicken with your heart, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Your eyes clamp shut as you feel yourself about to near your peak.

“Open your eyes, baby. M’gonna cum… Fuck. I’m gonna cum for you,” Rafe hums. Your orgasm hits you fast, washing over you like a wave. You watch the screen as Rafe strokes a few more times before letting his thick cock go, pulsing as he cums in ropes landing hot on his abs as he pants like a dog.

Cam bites his lips, wrapping his fist around the delicate lace, pulling it down to his tip. His head falls back as he empties himself into the lace. His ab muscles clench as his heavy load dirties your panties, making an absolute mess of the fabric.

The three of you breathe heavily, coming down from your highs together. A broad smile spreads across Rafe’s lips as he tilts his head back, hitting the hotel headboard with a soft thud. “Mmm… Get on your back, baby,” Rafe hums. “You're cummin’ again.”

“Yeah?” You ask with a breathless laugh as you look between Rafe and the video playing on the phone, watching Rafe throw you to the mattress and plunge back in fast.

“Yeah, princess. Wanna hear you cum with yourself. Better hurry up, sweetheart. Sounds like you’re close,” he smiles smugly as you lay down on the bed, starting up the vibrator, your thighs, pussy still quaking from your first orgasm.

Your eyes widen as you look between your thighs, watching Cam take it off your hands before pushing it inside for you. You cry out, back arching off the mattress as he works it in at the perfect angle, the head of the vibration swirls against your g-spot, vibrator flicking at your clit.

“Fuck, you can take dick like a pornstar. Can't you princess?” Rafe praises—his cock still hard, as he shifts his focus between the old video and the pleasure on your face, the rest of your body cut off from the lens as Cam works the toy in and out.

Your bottom lip pouts and trembles in overstimulation as fat tears roll down your hot cheeks. You look down at Cam, scratching your nails into his buzzed hair. His eyes rake up your body, landing on your lips, licking his own—no doubt thinking about his dick sliding in and out and your lips on him.

He turns up the speed to the max, making you fight against him slightly, but he grabs your body, pinning you to the mattress.

“Are you gonna cum, princess?” Rafe drawls, and you nod rapidly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Give it to me.”

“Mhmm,” is all you can muster. “Fuck!” You whine as your damn breaks, pleasure coursing through your body as you flutter around the vibrator, cumming in tandem with the video of yourself.

Cam pulls out the vibrator, making you gasp. He flattens his tongue, licking a line up your silk, causing you to whimper pathetically as he works you through your high. Cam curls his arms, forcing you closer as he locks onto your puffy clit, sucking and flicking his tongue; feeling yourself close to a third release but you trap him between your thighs, throwing him daggers with your gaze.

“Fuck–Fuck, JJ. What the hell?” Rafe calls as you hear the door push open on Rafe’s end, making all three of you jump. Your hand clamps over your lips, as you watch your boyfriend, do his best to cover himself up while his teammate cackles. “Knock on the goddamn door,” he barks.

“Forgot my wallet,” JJ says, his voice on the edge of laughter.

Rafe covers himself more, putting his big hand up to the camera as JJ pops his head in, grabbing his wallet off the nightstand. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” Rafe hisses, only half-kidding, but you’re already covered up with a blanket anyway. His eyes track JJ as he walks away, heading out the door.

“Goddamn…” Rafe mutters as he pulls back the dirtied duvet, eyeing the mess. “How many more guys am I gonna have to fight off you today?” He huffs.

Cam looks over his shoulder slightly as he pulls back on his sweats. You can see it in his eyes, Cam hit with the bitter taste of guilt. Rafe smiles at you lovingly, utterly oblivious to the war in your mind and his brother in the room.

“Rafe-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, princess. I love you,” he cuts you off before you go to speak, seconds away from spilling your guts. Maybe it’s for the best…

“I love you too,” you whisper, hearing the slight crack in your voice.

You grab the top of your laptop, pulling it shut, your heart banging in your ears as the weight of the situation starts to pile on you. You felt a rush of panic flood through you—not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

What the fuck did I just do?

⭐part 4 coming soon⭐

tags: @rafesthroatbaby @littlelamy @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy @rafestoothbrush

[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹 | Jonathan Crane

𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢.

𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 — Hello my angels! I haven't posted in a while & I was on a little writing hiatus due putting my mental health first, but I am slowly coming back to writing! I'm not sure when I will write another fic/have the time to, though! Also sorry in advance for any grammar errors as I barely proofread thiiiiiis!

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — Your mentor, Doctor Jonathan Crane, coerced you into making a sex tape as a means to keep you silent about what you saw, and for the night, you become a star on camera for him.

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 — 2.9k

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 -> 18+ ONLY DUBCON, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), creampie, sex tape, drugging, stockholm syndrome(?), blackmail & coercion

𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You stared at him silently from the bed, unsure what to say next. The atmosphere wasn’t tense by any means, but it was heavy. The air – the air was heavy. Jonathan silently stared you down in his suit, standing beside the blinking camera on a tripod. 

This wasn’t your idea. You’d have never agreed if he hadn’t forced you to.

But somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if you’d made the decision long before he even mentioned it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jonathan Crane was your colleague – or rather mentor. You had been offered a position to work under the renowned Doctor at Arkham Asylum at the beginning of your practicum last month, and although most people would shiver at the thought of working with the criminally insane, you jumped at the opportunity. This would most definitely advance your chances of getting a coveted job post-graduation, and you were willing to do whatever it took. 

The last few weeks had been chaotic but thrilling; you’d shadow Crane around Arkham as he treated his patients and wrote down evaluations — whatever he was doing for the day. However, one evening, you went to his office to ask him a question you’d had, only to walk into a scene that caused your jaw to drop. 

Lay slumped over on Jonathan’s office desk was a patient – patient #20373 to be precise – who appeared to be…not breathing. Your eyes darted from the patient to Crane himself, who was now rushing to slam and lock the door to his office behind you. You don’t quite remember everything that happened after that. 

One thing you do remember though – and you doubt you’ll ever forget – is waking up in a cushiony room on a bed, groggy and half awake until Jonathan came into your line of vision. You tried to cry, or sob, or do anything, really, but your mind was going four ways and you couldn’t seem to process what was happening. 

“Did you drug me?” You rasped with watery eyes, your hands reaching to your throat out of instinct. 

“I did what had to be done. What you saw – what you think you saw…” He corrected himself, “I can’t risk anyone finding out about that.” 

“I- Okay, I won’t tell anyone, just please–”

He shushed your panicked voice as he eyed you down the way a predator would do to its prey. “I want to trust you, I do — but I can’t.” 

You watched as he stepped closer to you, and you noticed that even though you wanted to run, your body was seemingly too weak. Too heavy.

“I’m working on a clinical trial,” he informed you. “I’m observing the neurological patterns of patients exposed to their deepest, darkest fears. Unfortunately, like with all clinical trials, there are sometimes…flukes. Accidents. Some patients don’t react properly to the medication in the way we want them to. Dosage errors, genetic factors, allergies…the list goes on. What you think you saw was just that — a medical error.” 

You tried to talk, but for some reason, you couldn’t – you were floored, to say the least. He seemed to take notice of this, and he cooed softly as he came to pet your head gently. “I know,” he feigned sympathy, “you must be so out of it.”

“What did you do to me?” You choked out, failing to swat his hand away from you. “How–?”

“A fast-acting sedative and a small syringe,” he interrupted, before letting out a soft chuckle. “Poor thing, you were out cold before your brain could even register what was happening.”

“You…God, you’re fucking sick.” You let out a choked sob as he smirked at you, clearly amused. 

“I’d like to return to our previous topic of discussion.” His tone shifted back into his usual, clinical one. “Although I'm quite certain you won’t speak a word of what you saw earlier to anyone, I need something from you. Think of it as an eye for an eye — that sort of thing.”

Blackmail, you thought to yourself, he wants blackmail so that he can have something to hang over my head. 

At that very moment, you noticed a camera propped up on a tripod in the corner of the room, causing your mouth to go dry. 

“You– Doctor Crane, you don’t have to do this…” You almost whispered as a tear ran down your cheek at the realization of the type of blackmail he had in mind.

“Jonathan,” he corrected, “I’d like to believe we’re on a first-name basis by now, wouldn’t you?” He sighed, looking at you through his glasses with his steel blue eyes. You’d be lying if you said you never found him even slightly attractive, and sure…maybe you’d fantasized about him once or twice in bed all alone at night, but what you had in mind was different – innocent. It was just that; a fantasy. 

“I–I don’t know what you want from me,” you stammered, feeling your stomach twist in knots. 

“What do I want from you?” His voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Simple. You and I are going to make a little…project. Something personal. Something memorable.” You felt sick as you failed to form a response. “You’re awfully quiet, sweetheart. I thought you’d have more to say, perhaps even put up a fight.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you spat, finding your voice again. “I’ll never—”

“You will,” Jonathan interrupted, his tone sharp and menacing. He smiled softly at you, a juxtaposition to his cruel, mocking tone from mere minutes ago, and he was eerily calm. “Because if you want to keep even a shred of your dignity, your reputation, your job, or your life—”

“Fine,” you panicked as he went on with the list and gave in as your voice dropped to a whisper, “just…just don’t hurt me.”

He smiled faintly. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He didn’t bother waiting for you to reply before moving the camera and tripod to the edge of the bed, watching you like a hawk to make sure you didn’t even dare to attempt to get up or do anything that would indicate you would try and fight back. 

Once he set everything up, you looked at him with watery eyes, which caused him to feign worry and coo mockingly at you. He towered over you as he stood at the edge of the bed where you sat, and he took your face into his hands, forcing you to look up at him. 

“I want to hear you talking dirty.” His words sent a chill down your spine, and even though you’d tried to break eye contact, he forced you to look at him once more. “I want to feel you put the work in.” 

“Please—”

“I want to watch you entertain.” 

You watched as he turned his attention back to the camera and tripod. He toyed with it momentarily before it made a small beep sound, and a flashing red light started to blink. 

“Is it on?” Your voice noticeably trembled.

“Yeah, it’s on.” His voice was eerily relaxed.

Your hands were shaking – which you hadn’t even realized until now – and you nodded, unable to do much more. He didn’t say anything yet, but he looked at you with a menacing stare, causing your blood to run colder than it already was.

You weren’t even sure you had a pulse at this point.

“Strip,” he suddenly ordered, causing you to grimace. “Fucking strip.” 

Scrambling on the bed with your eyes darting from the camera back to Jonathan, you do as told with trembling hands. Hastily, you attempted to rid yourself of your clothing before you choked on a gasp as you felt Jonathan yank you back by your hair with a harsh grip. 

“Slowly,” he purred, knuckles going white with how hard he was gripping onto your hair, before letting go after what felt like a lifetime. “I want you to savour the moment you gave yourself up to me.” 

You didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth – that, yes, you’d given yourself to him long before this moment. Not with your body, but with every line you let him blur until you could no longer tell where you ended, and he began. 

You gave yourself up to him unknowingly when you caught him “treating” his patients with his fear toxin on countless other occasions and yet, you didn’t say a word because you were blindsided by how pathetically attracted you were to him. 

This time, you just happened to get caught, and he acted on impulse, forcing you to surrender.

But this wasn’t really surrender. This was inevitability.

Once you were left in just your underwear, you were a shivering, doe-eyed mess. Although, it seemed Jonathan preferred you this way. “You’re such a good girl,” he cooed, hands coming to brush up against your neck gently. “God, you truly are pretty.” 

His words were sickeningly sweet; as if he wasn’t keeping you here, forcing you to film a sex tape as blackmail for yourself. 

But was it force when you’d handed him the reins so long ago, piece by trembling piece?

“You're so soft,” he mumbled, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek as he moved your hair out of the way, exposing your neck, to which he placed another kiss.

“...Jonathan, please.”

Your voice came out soft – quiet – and it had this tremble within it because you were free-falling. One moment he had you quivering in fear, and the next, he was the same soft-spoken, intellectual, kind mentor you had found rather endearing before all…this. Perhaps it was your mind playing tricks on you, maybe it was even a coping mechanism – but if it helped you believe that you didn’t somehow allow yourself to let him do this to you, then you welcomed that idea. 

Psychology is interesting. Human behaviour is interesting. 

“I know you better than you know yourself,” he whispered against your skin, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up as you shut your eyes. “Don’t lie to me — you love this. I’ve seen you snooping around my office, I know you’ve looked in my file cabinets…”

He continued speaking softly – not in a menacing way – but rather in a reassuring way, like he knew who you really were underneath this facade you put up. “I know that you know what I do within the walls of Arkham when nobody is looking — well, nobody except for you.”

“You’re so vile,” you whispered, leaning into his touch as you let his hands roam your body in front of the camera, not even attempting to deny it. 

“You’re just as vile for letting me do this to you,” he nipped your neck, causing you to let out a startled moan. “You know whose blood is on my hands, yet you let those same hands touch you.” 

The lines between sex, lies, and the ugly truth blurred in an instant as your hands found his shoulders. With a sharp pull, you placed your lips on his. Before he could react, you tugged him down onto the bed, the weight of him pressing against you like the inevitability of everything you’d already surrendered.

“Show me who you are,” he whispered, getting just enough distance between your lips in his to get the words out, and you didn’t need to be told twice. 

You pressed your lips up against his once more, feeling him intertwine his hands into your hair this time around. Your nails dug into his suit as you desperately tried to tug him out of it, falling deeper into the unholy temptation that was Jonathan Crane. He continued to kiss you as you rid him of his clothes, and in between kisses, you straddled him as his hands found purchase on your hips. 

You pulled back momentarily, glancing at him and noticing his glasses were slightly fogged up, but his eyes were still ever so blue through them. You smiled slightly before you started to unbutton his white, collared shirt that was under his suit jacket, while simultaneously trying to remove his tie fully.

Jonathan had no objections – he wanted to see how dirty you were willing to be. How filthy you would get on film…and that sparked an idea in his head.

Jonathan suddenly slammed you down onto the mattress within seconds, his shirt half undone and his tie hanging off his neck lazily before he was tugging your lace panties down your thighs. This was the moment that he decided even if he was supposedly blackmailing you, he needed to have his face buried in between your legs. 

“Jonathan,” you panted, looking down at him between your legs, his brilliantly blue eyes now much darker. “Wh-what are you doing?” 

He tossed your underwear to the side, offering no response before diving right in, devouring your cunt skillfully as his tongue darted through every single inch of you. You let out a sharp gasp before it turned into a moan. It was almost disgusting how good he was with his mouth. 

“Fuck,” you whined, hips arching upwards so that he could taste all of you, down to the last drop. 

“Delicious.” 

His voice was muffled as he ate you out, savouring the taste of you against his tongue. He knew exactly what he was doing, but it was too late to try and save yourself now – not that you really made any attempt before because here you were; getting eaten out by a man who supposedly drugged you and forced you into getting fucked on camera but hey,  it happens to the best of us... 

He licked your folds, gently nipping on your thighs or pressing kisses to them, before diving back into you as he lapped you up. Soon enough, you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach starting to build up as he sucked your clit gently, causing you to let out a rather loud moan. 

“I’m close,” you warned as your back arched off the mattress again, causing his grip on your thighs to become harsher, keeping you there. “God–”

He hummed in acknowledgement as you felt your release hit you all at once. He continued to eat you out as if you were his final meal until you were a shaking mess, begging him to give you a break as your legs shook.

Before you even had a chance to fully recover, you found yourself in yet another position he manhandled you into, this time face down ass up – and looking right at the camera. You heard his belt unbuckle from behind you before you let out a quiet gasp, feeling him line himself up with your entrance. 

You were plenty wet at this point, so soaked you could certainly feel yourself dripping down your thighs. Jonathan pushed himself into you desperately, filling you up fully with one, quick stroke before his hands gripped your hips. Your eyes screwed shut as he stretched you out around his cock, slamming his hips into your ass as he fucked you into oblivion. 

You babbled and moaned into the mattress as you felt yourself soak his length. He then grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at the camera with wide eyes and an already fucked out expression as he continued to plow you.

“Fuck,” he huffed, “you take cock like a professional. Atta’ girl.” 

The way his cock was angled inside of you was perfection. It was that perfect mixture of pleasure and pain that made it feel so good when he was fucking you – ruining you – and rearranging your insides. You could physically feel every inch of him fill you and stretch you out around his thickness, pounding you until you lost your ability to think about anything other than him filling your holes twenty-four fucking seven.

“Jonathan,” you feverishly said his name before letting out a moan so pornographic, that it even caught Jonathan by surprise – a good surprise though, nonetheless. You continued to beg him to fuck you harder and harder, pleading with him for God knows what. “I need— nnghh – need you to fill me, yes—!’

“You’re a fuckin’ natural at this,” he gruffed, feeling himself edge closer to his release. “Look at you go, you’re such a slut, aren’t you, baby? Show the camera what a good girl you become when you’ve got my cock in you.”

“Mmm,” you drawled out a few more breathy moans before neither of you could go any longer. 

Jonathan cursed under his breath before he filled you up with his come, stuffing you full of it as his thrusts slowed down. Simultaneously, you were clenching down on him as you drenched his cock with his hands still intertwined in your hair lazily. 

You stared at the red light which was still blinking before Jonathan finally let his grip on your hair go, making you sigh with relief. He was still buried in your warm, wet cunt as you looked over your shoulder, silently admiring the way his blue eyes pierced through you. His hair was slightly dishevelled and you could’ve sworn his cheeks were a bit pink, but you were soon pulled out of your thoughts as he let out a soft, breathy laugh.

“You’re a fuckin’ star, babydoll.” 

But the difference between a pornstar and you? They know what they’ve signed up for. 

You on the other hand? You’re drowning in a role written for you, simply too blind to see who’s holding the pen.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

[fungateshortcakes]

Personal attention ASMR

Don't ask questions just run with it

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: You use Logan as your ASMR model

Wordcount: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a drabble what happened)

Warnings/tags: none, english is not my first language, fluff, established relationship, reader is gender neutral but is described to wear acrylic nails, sharp or dull challenge, hair brushing, face tracing, nail tapping, face masks, implied that reader wifes Logan up in the future lol

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The cozy glow of a string of fairylights illuminated Logan as he sat in his armchair, a beer in hand, watching you fiddle with your - what did you call it? - ASMR setup? You struggled to get your camera into the right position on your tripod without knocking off the little hypersensitive microphones that extended from each side.

Logan sat there with an amused smile, but as his eyes wandered over the coffee table that was packed with various tools he couldn't name, facemasks that ran too pink and glittery for his liking- in that moment he thought, why the hell had he agreed to this? Your damned puppy eyes and sweet kisses, that's why.

"You're seriously gon' make me do this?" he asked you, standing up from his seat to stretch. "You agreed to it" you pouted before laughing. "Do I have to let you sign something next time?"

Logan rolled his eyes playfully at your words, shaking his head and lifting his hands dismissively "Nah, I'm kiddin'. I'll do it. But just cause it's you" he replied, helping you connect everything. You gave his rugged cheek a biiig kiss "You're the best boyfriend ever"

Logan chuckled and gave you back some sloppy, over the top kisses to your own cheeks until you were grossed out giggling. "I won't take the blame if your lil' fans don't like it though"

You shook your head. "I am sure they will love it. And you have nothing to worry about except being relaxed and looking pretty. I'll handle the rest" you teased him, smoothing out the thick neutral grey coloured blanket on your carpet in front of the couch, adding a matching pillow for Logan to rest his head on.

He shimmied into position on the ground so he looked directly into the camera hanging over his face. You made sure that his face was entirely in frame, fiddling with the contrast controls of the camera. The warm light from the fireplace contoured the left side of his face while the cold fairylights illuminated the right side of it, creating a interesting and aesthetical pleasing scene. This was gonna be great!

After everything was tuned to perfection, you knelt down over Logans head so you had all the access to his face that you needed. You had even gotten new acrylic nails for the occasion!

You rubbed your hands together "So, one of the most important rules of ASMR is no talking, only whispering. Okay? We want the ambience to be nice and peaceful" you explained excitedly to him. You knew that Logan knew what he was getting into - somewhat. The concept of ASMR wasn't too foreign to him. That comes with having a better half that does ASMR content for a living, but you still wanted to make sure.

Logan scoffed, snorting "Right. Peaceful. That's me"

You slapped his chest, shooting him a mocking glare in the process. "Shush now. I want to start" Logan blew a rasberry at you but quickly settled down after you switched on the camera for recording.

You showed your freshly manicured nails into the camera, tapping the crisp acrylic before slightly scraping them over Logans face "Welcome to another personal attention ASMR. My model for today is my beautiful boyfriend. He was kind enough to be of assistance" you whispered into the microphones, your voice soft and quiet.

Logan huffed at your words, only a small smile playing at his lips but he chose to not say anything and let you work. "We will be starting by tracing his face." you cooed gently, tapping the tips of your nails against his cheek with your left hand while your right hand mimicked the movements off-screen on a wooden board "Oh yeah, forgot to mention, he is a lumberjack, so he is more wood than man" you giggled into the mic, making Logans eyes roll at the corniness. But he couldn't deny that it felt nice.

You drew tingly patterns on his face, each sounding like scratching across crisp wood. You poked three dots under his eyes, drew an x on his forhead over and over again, traced over his frownlines and trailed your nail over his face in a continous line until you gently proded at his lips, making it sound like you knocked on them. He gave the tip of your nail a brief kiss, making you sigh out a smile into the mic. You tapped his face a few more times until you decided to switch up the trigger.

"Next, we will be playing a very popular little game" you spoke in a shushed tone, creating a bit of anticipation before you showed the camera two tools. One was a make-up brush, the other a kind of metal dermaroller with rotating spikes. You brought the tools to Logans head after you parted his hair to your liking "I'm going to touch your scalp with different textures. One is dull-" you started to explain, dragging the soft bristles of your brush over his head "-and the other one is going to be sharp like this" you ended, dragging the spiky roller across. "You feel the difference?" Logan nodded at your question, a low grumble sounding in the back of his throat.

"Good. I want you to tell me which one you feel, sharp or dull. Close your eyes for me, baby" you cooed quitely, humming as Logan did as he was told.

You angled his head a bit to have easier access, taking your time to part his hair neatly in a different location than before until you were ready to start. You stippled the brush against his head, waiting for an answer. "Dull" he whispered and for a second, you felt your chest tighten with joy. He was actually playing along and taking this seriously, it warmed your heart. When you said he was the best boyfriend, you meant it.

You switched the tool, drawing a line with the spike roller from the back all the way in front to his hairline, picking it up again and waiting for his reaction. "Sharp" he murmured and wow, his voice was very relaxing like this. You always found his voice soothing, but his deep whispers were another level. "Very good" you praised and a little proud smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. You decided to use the sharp roller again, letting it hit his skin only shortly before stopping. "Sharp" he replied, enjoying the way the tool made strong tingles errupt from the very top of his head all the way down his back. This was nice.

Your fingers raked through his hair, choosing another part of his head to part. You swiped the tip of your brush over him next, nodding as he whispered "Dull" to you in a hushed voice. You took your time to admire his face for a moment. It wasn’t tense nor taught, the usual frown line between his brows smoothed out and barely visible.

Another stipple of your brush "Dull", another turn of your roller "Sharp".

If you asked Logan, you could do this forever. He would prefer to be completely silent, though. And for you to only use the spiky tool.

To tease him a bit, you used both the brush and the dermaroller at the same time, softly giggling at the way his nose scrunched a bit in confusion. "Come again?" he whispered, a gruffness in his tone. You did, watching him lose faith in himself. As you repeated it the third time, he cracked open an eye and tried to keep his reaction as quiet as he could as to not mess up the video "That ain't fair, sugar" he said a little louder than intended, making you softly giggle into the microphone.

You put your stuff away, ready to move onto the next trigger. Your nails found his coarse beard, scratching along the thick mutton chops in circles while you explained what you were going to do next. "Now that we have messed up his hair quite a bit, I think it’s time for a bit of hair brushing" you whispered, cooing at the way Logan purred almost like a cat as you played with his beard. You kept that in mind for next time.

You sat back and got a neat brush, showing it off to the camera, tapping your nails against the plastic backside a little, before letting your fingers glide over the bristles slowly, softly whispering "bruushhh, bruushhh" over and over again.

When you started, Logan fought the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head. Your slow strokes just hit the spot, tingles and shivers exploding on his head. If the little spike tool felt like heaven already, then this was absolute nirvana. Now this was something you could do for the rest of his life.

Your gentle whispers of brushing fell on deaf ears as Logan tried not to hum at the feeling of the bristles scratching over his scalp. You combed through his whole head of hair multiple times, changing out the brushes and combs from time to time to not make it boring for the viewers and to give Logan different sensations.

When you were done, you settled on scratching his scalp with your nails instead, both hands under his head, massaging in deep circles. "Oh wow" Logan couldn’t help but murmur, closing his eyes for a second to stop them from trying to roll back. You could practically see the shudder that went through him at that, his mouth slightly agape.

As you stopped to get your next pieces of equipment, Logans eyes fluttered open, darting around as if he had just randomly woken up in the middle of nowhere, completely disoriented. It was cute.

"Last but not least, I have some face masks prepared for him." you muttered, presenting the camera a glittery, foaming face mask, swirling a brush through the bowl it was in, the soft crackling of the bubbles being picked up by the mic.

"But first, we will lightly prep his skin. Close your eyes for me, love" you whispered to Logan who gladly let his eyes flutter shut. You used a clear face primer, putting it on his face in little droplets all over before moving to get your sparkly water globes. You turned the globes in your hand, a satisfying glug glug glug emitting from them, iridescent glitter swirling inside. You brought them together at the bottom ever so gently as to not make them break over Logans face, a sound you either loved or hated coming from them as they bounced off of each other quickly.

Then you let the round, bulbous sides glide over Logans face to spread the primer and work it into his skin. At first he slightly jumped from the sudden coldness, but it didn’t take long for him to ease into it as the bulbs warmed up.

You were swiping the smooth globes over his skin effortlessly, removing the puffiness from under his eyes, massaging his cheeks in circular motions and easing any kind of headache as you glid over his forhead and temples. He could really really get used to this.

Like with everything else, you ended this treatment far too soon for his liking. And if he didn't know any better, he would actually start to protest.

The next thing he knew, he felt something cold and gel-like being pressed to his under eyes. Nurishing eye patches - sparkling, probably. Then he heard you rub your hands together, before your palms landed on his cheeks. The foam on your hands crackled loudly at the contact, the bubbles bursting and popping on his skin. You massaged it in, cooeing and making sounds with your mouth. His head lolled a little, too relaxed and sleepy for his own good. But he wasn't about to fall asleep, nuh uh, he wouldn’t fall asleep because of some ASMR stuff.

By the time your hands were back on his scalp to let the foam mask really sink in before washing it off, he was gone. Out like a light

At first, you hadn't even noticed, mindlessly scratching and massaging his head thoroughly with your nails and admiring his relaxed face, thinking about how lucky you were to have him. You had boyfriends before that laughed in your face when you asked them to be part of a video. When they realised you weren't joking, they got mad and lashed out, telling you that not even over their dead body would they sit there like a dumbass and have you whispering weird bulshit in their ear. You were disappointed, a simple no would have done it. But they were angry like it was something deeply personal. Not Logan though, he was a sweetheart.

He acted like he didn't want to, that he was only doing this because you batted your eyelashes at him, but deep down you knew he liked doing these things for you, seeing you so happy and excited was enough. If he was truly against it, he wouldn’t be in this position right now.

You liked to think he was secretly actually enjoying this - imagine your face as you realised he had fallen dead asleep, softly snoring as you wiped the foam mask off his face ever so gently as to not wake him up. "He has fallen asleep, guys" you whispered into the mic, the giddy smile could be heard from your voice even though your face wasn’t visible. You couldn't believe it. Your big, beefy teddy bear of a boyfriend fell asleep because of a little pampering.

You cooed softly, rubbing the last oil treatment onto his skin, being extra careful and gentle with him. "If you liked this video, leave a like, consider following my channel and leave a comment if you want to see more boyfriend content" you said in a hushed voice, coddling the face of your sleeping boyfriend. "See you next time, lovelies!" you whispered, booping Logans nose before switching off the camera.

Your boyfriend continued to snooze even after that, laying there unbothered with a glowy face. And it that moment you knew, maybe it was time. Just maybe, a few videos later, you could welcome your fans to another ASMR video with your husband.

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This idea came to me so randomly, i hope you guys still like it. Let me know in the comments please and leave a like, reblog if you want <3 I love to see it🎀

[bwat5-blog]

Well first let me say I actually agree that Vi’s story was given the short end of the stick in terms of the weight it deserved. Her time in the pit especially I think is really important and for it all to be handled so quickly was very disappointing.

Regarding Jinx being lost to her: So what the post says is talking about Jinx being lost to her so she does anything to stay by Caitlyn’s side. So that isn’t the fight in S2E3, its after the season one finale. Which, I mean Jinx just blew up the council after trying to convince Vi to kill Caitlyn and giving her whole “i thought you could love me like before” speech. I think its reasonable to suggest Vi feels her sister is lost to her.

Regarding Jinx being lost to her while in the pit: So like I said that isn’t what they were saying. But speaking on Vi’s disconnect in the pit, Vi FEELS that she has lost everything, and everyone. Her split from Caitlyn is obvious. Regarding Jinx, she spent seven years with the one hope of making things right with Powder keeping her going. It all ended perched over Jinx with Jinx glad Vi was going to kill her. Seems to fair to suggest Vi felt they were done. Jinx shows up at the ring and sees Vi declining physically and mentally and does not step in until Vander is revealed.

Regarding being caught between two cities: The entire opening shows Vi hanging back around corners, hood up, trying to be there for Caitlyn and being yelled at by Tobias. She’s a Zaunite trying to survive in Piltover in the wake of a Zaunite attack. Then we have the entire conflict over becoming an Enforcer. She is being torn apart by her loyalty to her home and her love for Caitlyn until her love for Cait wins out. When she and Jinx are looking for Vander and she sees Jinx’s painting alongside Vander’s face she is clearly upset because it shouldn’t be Jinx up there. But by the end Vi is encouraging Jinx that she can rewrite her story in Piltover as well, and Vi fights alongside a squad of Enforcers. Finding her home in the upper city once and for all.

Be VERSUS provide/protect/blame: So I feel like you are really latching onto that one word when it’s fairly clear thar Vi wants good things for her family as well. She doesn’t just want to be like… sit in a chair with them and is happy to be near them even if they are getting murdered. But recall Vander’s lessons from season one when Vi discusses wanting to fight for more. “Who are you willing to lose?” I think a life time of love and loss have taught Vi the value in a life of just getting to live with those she loves.

Blame-

“Get your filthy eyeballs on me

What else am I wasting for?

Feed me all your woes and pity

I am nothing anymore (Don't trip)

I'm at the bottom, it's a long way down (Don't slip)

I'm on the bend, and it's a long way 'round (I'm sick)

Of who I am and what I'm talking about

'Cause no pretty face can save me now” (Cocktail Molotov)

Vi’s story is in no small part about her learning to stop shouldering the weight of the world and put herself first. She blames herself for leaving powder, what jinx became, for everything when she feels like everyone has left her (see lyrics from pitfighter montage), and then in the cell: “i choose wrong every-time and because of it..i’ve lost everyone”. This moment is huge. After all the progress she and Jinx made Jinx leaves (good reasons but regardless), and no Caitlyn has come. In Vi’s head she lost her sister again, and now she is in the empty cell of the woman who killed Cait’s mom. She thinks its all about to come crashing down. But Cait’s love and acceptance of not only Vi but who she is help her overcome that.

Her Arc in Season Two: so, putting this all together what do we have?

1. Begins the season overcome with guilt and blame about Jinx and the total loss of the world she knew, trying to force herself into a mold to hang onto Caitlyn.

2. After giving away every part of herself to hold onto the woman she loves she is left totally and completely alone. Spiraling into self-destructive darkness.

3. Reemerges and learns to live in the new world, seeing the good in her sister, the worth in herself, finding peace and love in the estate of one of the upper cities oldest families, and finally feeling safe enough to take off her hand wraps.

I understand if you didn’t like it. I understand if you felt it was shorted as I did in some moments. But to say her Arc was non-existent is not something we can agree on.

Violet, my beloved.

I think there's a high chance you're misinterpreting the core tenants of her character.

"Why didn't Vi play a bigger role in the fight for Zaun's independence?"

Because her goals are different from those like Ekko and Sevika, who were true leaders and caretakers of their city. Who lived and breathed for the wellbeing and betterment of Zaun.

Vi lived and breathed for the wellbeing of her FAMILY.

Any qualms she had in relation to Zaun's oppression were always tied to how they negatively affected the lives of her and her family. She may have made side comments to other characters about how their actions affect the citizens of Zaun. Like Caitlyn, when they first meet. Or Jayce, after the attack they make on Silco's manufacturing facility. But she makes the comment to Caitlyn because that's how she's seen the enforcers treat her in her own life. She makes the comment to Jayce because that's just the context of the conversation they're having. Vi gets wrapped up in the bigger politics because of her pursuit of Silco, which she would have never done if he weren't directly tied to her sister.

Selfish? If you think too hard about it, maybe. But it's an incredibly relatable motivation, and one that a lot of us would adhere to. We would do anything for our loved ones.

"Why does Vi become an enforcer? That seems contradictory to her character."

Why does Vi team up with an enforcer to begin with? Because Caitlyn becomes the conduit in which Vi can get back to her family. To the one person she loves more than anything. And Caitlyn is also the conduit in which Vi can seek out those who have harmed her family--Silco, and in relation, Sevika.

And along the way, she falls in love with Caitlyn, because of the quality of character that Cait shows to her.

So what is Vi to do when she's lost everything? Silco is dead, and Jinx is lost to her. What else would Vi do, but do anything to stay by Caitlyn's side?

"Everyone in my life has changed, promise me you won't change." She is BEGGING Caitlyn to stay, to be with her, to be the one thing she loves that doesn't fade away, and she's also afraid that she's abandoned her origins for nothing.

What else is Vi to do but crash out, lose herself to violence and drinking, when she truly has lost everyone?

When she asks Jinx in act 2 to stay in the commune and help them out, she asks because it's something they can do together. It's the way she can be with those she loves.

Vi just wants to be with those she loves. That's all she's ever wanted. It's what has stayed constant for her character throughout the entirety of the show.

Victims of oppressive systems don't always want to be the hero. Sometimes they just want to survive and be with the people they love.

I think if you gathered anything else from her character, or rather, you interpreted her motivations to be anything else, you got lost along the way with what story you were being told through Vi.

[cherryswisherz]

KARMIC BALANCE ✷ CHAPTER III

✷WARNINGS cursing, pining??? idk. mention of the nd game and h*annah h*dalgo

✷NIYAH SPEAKS aye we back! this one is just paiges pob

✦✦✦✦

SENIOR YEAR

We lose to Notre Dame every year. 

Every. Fucking. Year. 

And now that I’m home in Storrs, looking at everyone as they try to mask their disappointment, I feel the loss even more. 

Which is why I’m walking around in the middle of night, the December air biting into my skin. I can’t stop thinking about everything that went wrong. Why everything went wrong. 

I honestly have no fucking clue why, but I know what went wrong. Everyone does. Our defense was lousy, our shots were horrible, we got too tired. I could go on, but that won’t fix anything. 

I find myself at Xavi and Janes house before I realize it. I tell myself that it’s because Yanna’s there, and not because of the wisdom that Xavia seems to have about every aspect of life. 

When Xavia opens the door wearing a smile and a moo moo, I ignore that bubly feeling in my chest and ask to come in. 

Once inside, I see her apartment is almost completely dark. The big lights are off, the living room being lit only by a candle and two lamps in opposite corners. 

“So, what’s up P?” Xavi asks, running her hands down the silk of her moo moo. “It’s almost midnight and you’re usually dead to the world by 9.”

Knowing that Xavia knows my bedtime makes me smile for reasons I don’t want to admit. 

When I first met her, Xavia was like a mystery. She was funny and smart and absolutely fucking beautiful. She’d apologized for making a false assumption about me. It was the first and only time anyone had ever done that and I never forgot it. 

When she and Jane started coming around more, I forced myself to swallow the want I had to learn more about her, to learn from her because I knew that if I’d gotten to the root of who she was, I’d be even more enthralled than I already was at that point. 

Eventually my heart stopped beating so fast around her. I’d stopped avoiding being within 3 feet of her and trained myself to treat her like I’d treated all my other friends. 

Because that’s what she is. My friend. 

It didn’t matter that her not worshipping ground I walked on excited me. It didn’t matter that almost every conversation we had alone rested in the back of my mind at all times. 

Xavia is my friend and that’s all she’d ever be. 

“Yeah I know. I just can’t get the ND game outta my head and I thought Yanna would be here to talk to.”

I’m lying and I know it. Whether Yanna was here or not, I would have found a way to talk to Xavi. I always did. Not because I wanted to be around her, but because she always had the answer to whatever problem that I have. Anyone would do the same if they’d stopped to pay attention when she was trying to get a word in. 

“Oh, yeah, she’s not here.” Xavi pointed a thumb to the back of her house, where Her and Jane’d bedroom’s were. Her locs swayed with the turn of her head. “Her and Jane went to Urgent Care cause she hit her shoulder on the wall and-” She waves her hands anxiously, as if she doesn’t feel like explaining a complex situation. “It was a whole thing. I’m sure you’ll hear about it tomorrow.”

I know I should be worried about my teammate who can’t seem to stay healthy. And I am. I make a mental note to check in on Yanna at some point, but right now, I’m thinking of a way I can stay and talk to Xavi without making it a thing.

“Oh…” is what I came up with. 

“You can talk to me?” Thank. God. “ If you want.”

Of course I fucking want. It’s all I’ve done for the past three years. 

I want to be a better person. 

I want to be 19 again and do everything differently. 

I want to win the championship this year. 

But all those wants are null and void for the biggest want of all. 

I want to get drafted to the WNBA.

And I’ve made  too many shitty decisions to get there to just throw it all away. So what if I’m miserable?

“Uh, yeah. That’s cool.” I play off my desperation and take a seat on her orange bean bag. 

Xavi plops down on the couch in front of me, crossing her legs and folding her hands. All her attention is on me and a part of me feels like I don’t deserve the attention of this amazing woman. But a bigger part is screaming that this is how it should be. 

Me, admiring every part of her, and her, willing and ready for anything I give her. 

Of course, in this situation all she wants is to know what’s on my mind, but I would give her whatever else she could think up. 

“So whatcha thinkin ‘bout?”  She asks sweetly. 

Her voice isn’t obnoxiously high. It’s kinda deep and mellow, just like she is.

“Um… I just can’t get over everything.” I shake my head and look at my hands. Hands that are supposed to get me everywhere I want in life.  “Like, I get why we lost. What we did wrong on the basketball front. But we were off the other day. We’d run those plays over and over again in practice. Studied film. We should have been prepared, but we were just off.  Like no matter how hard we tried, we just couldn’t get there.”

Xavia nods her head like she understands everything I’m saying. 

“Like everything was against you guys?” she questions. 

“No. I don’t think that anything was unfair. I think that our all just wasn’t enough.”

“Well, I know you can’t speak for anyone else, and I’d never ask you to. But why do you think you were off that night?”

She sounds like a therapist. The kind that isn’t just trying to fix you, but trying to understand you. The kind that hangs on to every word, but not to hold it against you.

“I don’t know. I just kept getting madder and madder and it threw me off. I did everything I was supposed to do.”

She looks confused now. “What do you mean ‘supposed to do’?”

“Like everything I thought was right. Everything I've always done.”

“Maybe that’s the issue.” 

Now I’m confused. 

“What?”

Following my routine has taken me and my team to the Final Four, and for Xavi to tell me it’s wrong stings a little. 

“Maybe doing everything you’ve always done isn’t the answer. Paige, you’re a somewhat mature adult. Do you honestly think you’re right all the time?”

What does she mean ‘somewhat’ mature? 

“...No?”

“Right.” Xavi sounds so sure of herself, leaning in and starting to talk with her hands like she does when she’s talking about her coursework or something equally as interesting to her. “It’s impossible to be right in every situation because every situation is different. When you throughout your daily life, do you treat every person the same? Do you go into every conversation with the same mindset, expecting the same outcome?”

I mean most people are the same, so what else am I supposed to do?

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Well that’s no bueno, babe.” She huffs out, pointing at me. Then, she entrances me again with her hands as she speaks. “ Every human is different. They have different pasts, and different views. Even if the difference between one person and another is miniscule, it’s there. And that difference is why it’s so important that we don’t generalize people.”

I know she’s stopped talking but I’m so caught up in her voice, and her hands and her face, and her to contribute to the conversation.

“Are you understanding?” She asks, seemingly genuinely concern with whether I’m comprehending what she’s telling me. 

And the answer is no, I’m not understanding. Whether there’s a differenc eor not, each person want the same thing and should be dealt with the same, based on what they want. 

This is the code fucking live by,a nd she’s sitting her debunking it in the most intellectual, attractive way possible.

“Not really.”

“Okay so like…” She sighs, pauses to think and then continues. “Do you remember when we first met? When I assumed you were a whore like alot of college athletes are?”

The reminder of our first interaction brings a calmness to me. I remember everything abou that night in her dorm. She wore sweats with no bra, and I’m pretty sure she was stoned.

“Yeah of course. You apologized to me that night and it kinda weirded me out.”

“Right.” Xavia snapped her fingers, bringing me out of my memory. “I apologized to you, because I generalized you and made an assumption based on one aspect of your identity. And I think it weirded you out because you’d generalized every person who’d made an assumption about you. I guess it’s rare that people apologize after being an asshole to you.”

It was rare. So rare that she’s the only person who’d ever done it.

“Okay…”

“So. Incourpurating that into basketball. Every team is different.”

I nod my head to let her know I was following. “Of course.”

“Okay and so every player on every team is different too.”

She lost me.

“No.” Now I’m the one leaning forward, talking with my hands. “They all move as a team. Yes, they have differences, but they’re all working together.”

“I see it differently.” She shrugs like she’s the master of basketball and done copious amounts of research on the psyche of an athlet.  “I feel like every player on that court moves individually. Do they play for the same team, and have the same goal? Of course. But they’re all different. They all have different thoughts and concerns and ideas. You said that girl Hannah was the head of the snake, but I think you should see it differently.”

“How so?”

“Instead of thinking of a team as one snake, think of it like… Like cheetahs!”

“Cheetahs?”

“Cheetahs.” She finalizes. “Once the mama cheetah gives birth, she trains her cubs to survive in any situation. To adapt to any surroundings. She teaches her cubs how to kill different animals, to hide, all that. Eventually, the cubs form a sibling group and go out together to execute everything their mother has taught them. Are you getting the analogy?”

When she’s explaining it in laymans terms, of course I get it. She could probably explain thermodynamics to me and I’d understand it fully. Xavia just has a way of making everything in life seem so simple. It’s wonderful, really.

“Yeah. Like the coach is the mother, the players are the cubs.”

“Right. But each cub is different. There’s a more dominant one, there’s submissives and then theirs the runts. Each one has to edit their mothers lessons to make it useful to them individually. Does that make sense?”

I’ve decided that she’s blown my mind enough for tonight, once again by being right about everything. So I just chuckle and dismiss the topic.

“How do you come up with this shit, Xavi?”

She laughs like a seductress and leans back on the couch, “I dunno. I read alot.”

You read alot? Reading alot has given you the ability to break down a sport like you’ve played it your whole life?

“Well thank you for sharing your knowledge with my dumbass, oh wise one.”

I stand up from the beanbag and make my way to the door, ready to take my exit.

“I’m not wise, I just see from a different point of view than you. Sometimes you gotta get outta your head.”

“I guess.” I sigh, then open my arms. “Thanks, Xavi.” 

She steps into me, her head just below my chest and wraps her arms around me. Her body is warm, but the silk she’s wearing cold. She doesn’t hug me tight or aggressively. Just stands there with her arms around my waist. 

It feels terrifyingly comfortable. 

“Anytime P.” she mutters, pulling away and ushering me out of her home. 

The whole walk back, my mind is on her and everything she said. 

How is it that this girl that is the exact opposite of everything I’m looking for, seems to be everything I need?

✷TAGLIST @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @pb524830 @pb524830 @dnftpn @sierrale8ne @numberonepartyanth3m

@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad @lovegalor333 @mrsarnold

@sellasstories @heart4caitlin @avvwritesstufff @st4rrzynight @bueckersp @paxaz535 @thelightknight21 @paxaz535

[laddelulu30]

This is my first ever post. Be kind but be honest

Synopsis: Christmas themed, soft Sylus smut

Tags: small plot, female reader x Sylus (dragon daddy), poc reader implied, cunnilingus, vaginal creampie, foul language, soft(ish) smut

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: This original piece is for @hesprisms I tried to keep this as romantic as possible as my understand for soft smut. I hope you like it, pookie. I also have to formally apologize since I went way passed the closing date. Holidays got a little hectic for me. I did my best despite my... preferences. I hope I did you proud. This work for the Secret Santa Fic Exchange event by @nanamiscocksleeve

Dividers by:@jiyascepter; @adornedwithlight ; @cafekitsune

Sylus image by: IG: @botsandmod.ig

Twinkling Lights

It’s been 2 years since you moved in with Sylus in the N109 Zone. His place was massive, too much room for just two people, well four if you counted Keiran and Luke. But they often came and went. So they didn’t really count. An entire apartment complex bought out because Sylus liked his space and wanted to keep his treasure secure. Whatever that meant.

With a sigh and a shiver, the elevator dinged open. Your arms full groceries, I walk into the penthouse. Sylus comes walking down the steps.

“You know I could’ve just called to have them delivered” his deep voice smooths over my skin like silk. I shiver as I put the bags on the counter. And it’s not because of the cold weather outside. I’ll never get used to the way my body reacts to his voice.

“Baby, it’s fine. I Like going out and moving about,” you defend, taking everything out of the bags. Beginning to put them away. You’re so locked in to putting everything away that when you finish, his arms wrap around you. And it causes you to jump. “Oh!”

“Sweetie” his lips skitter along your neck as he inhales your scent, his voice almost drawing the word out, “Do you miss being a Hunter that much? If you need something to keep you occupied, you can pick up boxing or simply do physical training with me?”

You shiver again, and this time, he notices. He pulls away slightly to get a look at your face, concern itching his beautiful face.

“ Are you cold? You’re shivering,” he says.

“ No no I’m fine,” you defend, doing a double take at his appearance, “Baby, your hair. Your horns are out. What happened?”

He chuckles, “ I know my hair is longer than what you’re used to. I can cut--“

“ No!” you say quickly, swallowing before talking again, “It looks great. I like it”

He smirks, probably picking up how your heart sped up every time you looked at his ashen white hair that was now long enough to stop in the middle of his back. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Your horns. Did something happen?”

“No. it’s nothing to worry about. I promise,” he says, waving dismissively.

Your gaze Narrows but you don’t press.

“Are we putting up a Christmas tree?” you ask, hopeful.

“is that what you want to do?” he says, chuckling.

“ yes, I’d really like that. Even if we don’t have presents to put under the tree, I still want to put one up. You know with the whole tree topper and decoration and everything.”

He wraps his arms around your waist again, resting his face in the crevice of your neck. You do your best to keep your heart from galloping in your throat.

He chuckles, “ Alright, I’ll grab the decorations and we can decorate together, sound fun? ”

You nod, your stomach knotting.

He places a quick kiss on your forehead before disappearing back upstairs. You try to calm down your galloping heart, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

You lay your coat and scarf on the sofa, bending down to take off your shoes and place them by the front door.

You walked back to the bare Christmas tree. A peculiar white tree with red frosted tips.

Leave it up to Sylus to get something almost no one else has in their home.

Moments later, he comes walking down the stairs with two packing boxes.

You jump up to help.

“I’ve got it sweetie just stay by the tree” he says, softly his voice warm like milk and honey, gentle.

You stand by the unique tree, awkwardly. Patient. Waiting.

Anxious energy coils in your stomach again.

“Are you sure you’re okay, sweetie?” he frowns” setting the boxes down in front of the tree.

Hastily, you grab for one of the flaps of the boxes, opening it to start decorating the tree. Trying to find something else for your mind to focus on.

Several minutes, maybe hours of silence pass. As you and Silas decorate the tree you pick up a velvet red box.

One you hadn’t seen before.

“Um....Sylus”

“Open it,” he says gently, abandoning decorating the tree as you become his sole focus.

You open the box and a light, small, eliminates the most breathtaking ring you’ve ever seen, nestled in the foam. A black ring with three big rubies encrusted in the band, surrounded by many small emerald green gems.

You look up, eyes snapping to his face. Your heart sinks into your gut as he looks at you, hopeful.

But he’s observant and picks up the shift in your mood quickly.

“You.. don’t look happy,” he says quietly.

“N-no I am. It’s just..” you start trying to find the words as your stomach knots, and your throat feels like it’s closing up.

“What’s wrong?” he says gently.

“I don’t know.. how to tell you, if you’ll be excited... or if you’ll”

“Sweetie, just tell me” he urges gently.

“Well,” you swallow thickly “While I was out, I went to the clinic to do a quick test because I hadn’t been menstruated in 2 months. I was worried something was wrong. But they told me.... I’m pregnant”

Silas doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink. The silence is deafening except for the crackling of fire in the fireplace.

He finally breathes “You’re pre-- we’re gonna have a baby?”

You nod.

“Do you want to have a baby? Because you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I’ll be sad, but it’s your decision to make. Ultimately it will be your body that has the bare the consequences.. ”

You swallow “I want to have this baby with you. Do you want to..?”

“Sweetie, nothing would make me happier than you becoming my wife and the mother of my children,” his gaze darkens

“Children,”you squeak.

“Only if you’re open to the idea,” he takes the box out of your hand, taking out the ring and placing the box on the sofa.

“Let’s cross that bridge when we get there,”you laugh nervously as he slides the ring on your ring finger.

He nips that finger with his sharpened teeth, causing you to let out a low hiss.

“Kitten, you didn’t answer my question?”

“What was the question?” you blink, momentarily stunned as a persistent fire licks at you from the inside.

“Will you marry me?” he chuckles, his voice deep and husky.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice breathy from your arousal.

“Well wife,” he says endearingly, pulling you into his arms bridal style “As much as I want to ravage you under the Christmas tree, that wouldn’t be good for your back. Nor for the baby. So let’s go upstairs and we can finish the decorations tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you whisper breathless.

“My lovely wife,” he grinned his Ruby eyes bright with happiness “I will savor you tonight, so try not to pass out on me.”

“What?” you squeak.

“My dragon could smell that you were with child. I simply wanted to wait until you were willing to tell me yourself.”

“So, I was nervous for no reason?”

“Not quite. Children are a big responsibility. I wouldn’t have faulted you, had you chosen to wait a little longer. I wanted you to tell me when you felt ready. I wasn’t expecting you to say it right after my proposal though,” he laughs, walking up the stairs to your shared bedroom with you carried in his arms like something precious.

“But I’m happy you told me. Your pheromones were driving me mad,” his voice deepened.

“You could smell that?”

“Darling, I could smell you getting aroused as soon as you saw my long hair and horns. I just didn’t say anything.”

“You jerk,” you laugh, mock hitting his shoulder.

He gets to your shared bedroom and lays you gently on the bed leaving the door open.

“The door. What if the twins--”

“They know better,” he says, his voice rough with desire.

Sylus peels off his shirt, kicking off his shoes and socks. He reaches or your oversized sweater and your hand clenches tightly down on it.

His eyes look to your face, brightening with understanding his gaze and voice soften, “Show me.”

Still hesitant, you hold on to the hem of the sweater, his grin widened and he removes your pants flinging them away without looking

“Kitten, you’ve gone weeks without letting me touch you. Smelling your arousal without letting me help. Driving me mad with desire. Please don’t deny me this. I want to see you. To taste you. Claim you,” he runs his nose against your inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin, making you whimper softly. He begs in a soft voice “Please.”

Relenting, your fingers let go of the sweater and he pulls the sweater over your head, your breasts bounce free. They’re in a larger size bra than they were before and a small baby bump is seen.

“Is this why you wouldn’t shower with me? Wouldn’t share the bed with me?” he plants fervent kisses along the underside of your belly, rubbing the pads of his thumbs softly along your pebbling nipples.

“Yes, “ you whisper, your breath hitching.

“You are beautiful, kitten. There’s no reason for you to be nervous to show me your body. Our baby is growing inside your body, understand?” he says gently, licking and nibbling back down to your inner thigh.

He lifts your legs by the underside of your knees, hooking them over his shoulders. He dives his face between your thighs, rubbing his nose along the damp material of your panties.

“Wait, Sylus--” you pant in protest, but his lips close over your panty-clad core.

You yelp in surprise, your hands flying to his hair as the other hand braces against the bed.

“Fuck. You smell divine, “ he growls, humming after coming up for air, “You taste even better. ”

“Sylus!” you gasp, fire spreading in your veins.

“Sorry, kitten, you deprived me. Starved me of eating this pussy. I’m hungry, and nothing is going to stop me from feasting on you,” a growl rumbles in his chest as he hooks his teeth on your panties and slides them down your legs before diving back to your weeping core.

Lapping at you hungrily like a starved man savoring his last meal.

A string of cusswords rip from your throat as he feasts. Teeth and tongue alternate between which one skates across your folds and your electrified bundle of nerves.

“Sylus, please,” you beg, a climax cresting quickly.

“No need to beg, kitten. I’ve got you,” he pants, doubling his efforts.

“I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be. I’m simply reminding you how much you mean to me and how much I’ll always adore you no matter how much your body changes.”

You explode on his tongue, and he doesn’t change his nor his tempo, dragging you roughly through your climax.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but you’ve climaxed three more times since the first one.

“Sylus...” your voice is hoarse from screaming your release, but it doesn’t seem like he plans to stop anytime soon.

“I’ve got you, kitten. One more,” he says, sucking on your swollen and oversensitive nub as he slowly sinks one finger into your pulsing heat.

“I can’t,” you weep, your thighs shaking from the strain.

“Yes, you can,” he coos encouragingly.

Pulling his fiendishly talented tongue away, he curls that one digit over the spot that makes you squeal. Your world shatters, stars dying behind your eyes, blinding.

“See? You did so good,” he says, slowly pulling his finger from your quivering heat.

You pant, trying to catch your breath. He grasps one of your ankles, kissing and nipping at it adoringly.

He stands, grinning wickedly, whispering, “We’re done yet.”

He carefully, gently, changes your body’s position. On your hands and knees. He rubs your skin, spreading you open.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he groans low, appreciatively, rubbing his hot and hard length through your soaking wet folds.

“Sylus, please..... I’m tired,” you beg weakly.

“I know, sweetie,” he croons, “One more, then I’ll make sure you’re pampered in the bath like the queen you are, okay?” he says.

He doesn’t give you a chance to voice your opinion before he pushes fully into you, seated deeply to the hilt. You scream.

“Already? Wait for me, kitten, ” he smirks, then starts moving.

A determined and purposeful pace. He thrusts deep, desparately chasing his own release through pounding through your squishy walls.

More string of curses from you.

“Just a little longer, kitten,” he encourages, his voice strained, “Ahh, fuck, you feel so good for me, so soft and hot.”

With one more deep and determined plunge, he cums with a groan string of curses and prayers, his hips jerking weakly as he shoots rope after rope of it, his cum coating your walls. His muscles twitch and flinch.

After catching his breath, he slowly pulls out, your body releasing him with a wet and sloppy pop.

“You did so well, kitten,” he says, kissing the back of your head before going to the bathroom to run you a bubble bath.

When the water is done, he comes back to retrieve you. He picks you up and gently places you into the water.

“Is the temp okay?” he says sweetly, his gaze watching for any twitch or frown you may make.

“Yeah,” you whisper, hoarsely.

“Did I hurt you?” he says softly.

“No, you did go a bit overboard but I can’t really complain because it felt really good. I know I’ll be a little sore afterwards though,” you blink, smiling sleepily.

“I’ll make you some hot cocoa, sound good?” he offers.

You nod.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he disappears downstairs to make your drink. He returns a short time later with your hot cocoa in a ceramic mug of a snow man wearing a scarf and mittens with two giant marshmallows floating in the chocolate goodness.

“Here ya go, sweetie,” he hands you the mug.

“Thanks, baby,” you say, taking the mug and taking a sip, “You always make the best hot cocoa.”

He smiles and waits for you to take a few more sips before he takes the mug and then leave the bathroom to sit the mug on the nightstand next to the bed.

You start to protest.

“You’ll get more after I pamper you,” he says, and starts to bathe you with all your favorite smell goods like body wash, body scrub and water safe body oils that you use.

After letting you soak for a while, he let’s the water out and rubs oils and lotions into your skin, pat drying your skin before helping you get into your lavender satin pajamas.

He picks you up and puts you against the pillows, pulling the cover back and tucking you in.

He hands the cocoa back to you, “I’ll take a shower and when I come back, we can snuggle and watch a movie, okay?”

He kisses your forehead and you nod, smiling dreamily.

You drink your cocoa, waiting for him to return, but you fall asleep. The empty mug resting on the small baby bump.

Sylus returns from his shower and smiles at the sight of you.

“Rest well... my wife,” he says, whispering warmly before taking the mug into the kitchen and starting the dishwasher.

He quickly returns to the bedroom, getting into bed with you, nuzzling between your legs so his face rests against your belly. Rubbing circles on the small bump, lovingly.

“I can’t wait to meet you, little one. Try not to stress your mom out too much. She’s a sweat heart and will be a very important person to us both,” he whispers into your skin before gently moving so that he cocoons behind your sleeping body, wrapping his arm firmly around you and pulling you up against him.

His chest presses against your back as he rests his chin in the crook of your neck as you both sleep, relaxed and spent, deep in bliss.

~The End~

copyright: original written by @laddelulu30 this is my only account. If you see my work anywhere else, please let me know. Otherwise, if you made it to the end, leave a like and a comment.

[phantomrose96]

(A Breach of Trust)

[I am putting the rest of the ask under a ReadMore because it IS long [and now super-long with my responses added] but I am biting and chewing this ask I am biting everything it has to say I love this ask I have things to say]

But yes responding to this first chunk! First THANK YOU second I loved writing just the inherent comedy of each chapter being like "[Scene 1] Ritsu spitting blood: I have to save my brother. He's dying. [Scene 2] *Happy domestic montage of Mob petting a kitten and maybe drinking some hot chocolate*" It was a great way to keep some emotional balance in each chapter and also. Funny.

I was crawling the wallllls getting to the makeshift reveal. I think it was about 5 years between coming up with it and getting to the reveal. So I just had to bite my tongue and dodge any suspicion in Makeshift's direction leveraged in the ABoT discord (ABoT discord! BTW! If you want)

I ended up making this to channel the energy somewhere

[Rest of ask under the cut!]

i was nervous for a hot second early on (around when reigen first takes mob in) that it was gonna be the kind of story that would get frustrating because "oh if the characters literally just told each other anything it would all be fine" but i didn't end up feeling that way at all? like yeah a lot of the plot relies on characters not knowing things and technically a lot could have been solved if idk all the characters decided to meet up and sit in a circle to politely explain everything to each other but it never feels like that should happen. even besides them all generally having reasons for lying or not explaining things or not talking to each other it's like. all their decisions feel very natural even when they're bad or unreasonable, and also crucially when the characters do learn things or w/e it usually doesn't fix things (ie when reigen learns mob's real identity and tells mob the truth and it kind of fixes some problems but also adds a host of new ones). in general despite it being a story that hinges on all the characters making bad decisions it rarely gets aggravating bc all the choices they make are understandable and make sense for them -- it doesn't feel like anything is happening simply because the plot demands it. everything is constantly getting worse but that's because the characters are making it worse it's not just Happening. and then the characters have to confront and deal with the consequences of all their actions and learn from them and it's very satisfying

YEAH!!! YEAH YOU GET IT!!!!!!

It is VERY important to me that the story in ABoT is character-driven. There should virtually be no "it happened because the plot demanded it." If it happened, it happened because a character's choice caused it. And if a character made a choice, it was due to their own motivations and not because the plot demanded it.

So, YES, there is this scenario where so much of what is happening comes as the result of each character having, at most, a 20% understanding of what's going on. But the withholding of information, CRITICALLY, cannot be because of Idiot Plot reasons.

Reigen "could" just ring up the Kageyama's and send Mob home, cutting short the first like 2/3 of his and Mob's arc. But he doesn't. And not because he's an idiot. He tried. Mob freaked out. And that was a good enough reason to just delay this until tomorrow, surely. But we watch as Reigen gets to experience was feels like genuine accomplishment, genuine joy, genuine meaning, by helping this kid experience life again. From the very start that's what Reigen wanted--to feel like he mattered. At the beginning this is what drives him to take up the Tetsugami case, despite knowing it can get him killed. (Because maybe Reigen can do something, this time. It's not just another doomed marriage or unsolvable missing person. Maybe he can make a difference. Maybe he can matter.)

And it manifests in what looks like heroics, but in the case with Mob, it drives Reigen to stall... more and more. He knows on some fundamental level it's wrong to be keeping Mob this long, but he can justify it in how this IS what Mob wanted.

And the same extends to the other characters... Tetsuo doesn't tell Reigen about Shigeo Kageyama's link to the Mogami case because he can't bear to admit HE was probably Shigeo's captor. Mob keeps secrets about Mogami because Mob knows he "killed" Reigen's "friend." Ritsu withholds information because it's the only power he has, and giving up information allows other people to stop him. Gimcrack and Slipshod keep quiet about Mob's location because their free lunch would end if they told.

And when these characters make bad decisions instead, it is CRITICALLY important to me that those decisions were the organic result of that character's complexes, goals, misunderstandings, and absent information. It's a train wreck and God Dammit I do everything in my power to ensure each character is their own conductor.

and the Themes. okay first of all i am a huge fan of stories that are like "no, heroic sacrifices are Not the answer, please stay alive so you can actually get better and fix your mistakes and be there for the people you care about", so obviously i adored that. i loved reigen confronting ritsu about this and urging him to stay alive, and i'm also obsessed with how reigen immediately Does Not Take His Own Advice. reigen's self-sacrifice plan makes a lot of sense with his character and given the circumstances it's definitely understandable why he and teru would be willing, however reluctantly, to resort to that, but of course it's not that actual solution because that's the whole point. (shout out to mogami being the one to save him. congrats on accidentally doing one (1) good thing.) reigen, ritsu, mob irt to being imprisoned rather than death -- none of them can just sacrifice themselves and expect that to fix everything and everyone to be fine without them, because that's not how this works. (also i can't wait to see ritsu inevitably be pissed at reigen about him trying to do exactly what he talked ritsu out of and reigen having no excuse except "yes i know, i am a hypocrite, please do as i say not as i do.") the story is dark but it's also so full of hope -- you can live, you can heal, you can move forward from all of this, no matter what you've done or what's happened to you.

YES!!! ANOTHER RESOUNDING YES!!!!

I've talked in the ABoT discord about how Reigen's sacrifice didn't work because it couldn't work. Because, if Reigen intentionally killed himself in order to end Mogami too, and Mob was saved and went home, then that means you DO save what you care about by sacrificing yourself. Which would be fine in other stories, but not this one.

ABoT's message has pretty loudly been "you don't save things by sacrificing yourself. you save them by living long enough to fix what you've broken." And even when Reigen is the one SAYING this to Ritsu... he doesn't believe it for himself. And he does not get to get away with not believing it for himself.

In earlier planning stages of the Reigen sacrifice scene, my plan was to have Reigen's knife slip before he could slice his throat (palms sweaty, grip slipped, parallel to what happened in the struggle-for-the-knife in the original chapter 8 Reigen-vs-Tetsugami scene).

But I thought about that and I said "No, actually." If Reigen fails because his palm slips, that suggests this COULD have succeeded, and Reigen just botched it is all.

So instead, the scorching fire around them (the blaze Reigen set) has dehydrated him to the point that his sweating has stopped. He is salty dusty skin and dry lips and his grip on the knife handle is perfect (anti-parallel to the first struggle for the knife scene). His execution is perfect. Reigen sacrifices himself perfectly.

...And then it's Mogami, who is well-practiced at controlling a maimed possessed body, who snatches back control and cauterizes the wound shut. Mogami (the antagonist of this story) cannot be defeated by self-sacrifice.

There is no "if only Reigen did it right" ambiguity. There is an absolute statement about where the themes stand.

(And yes, I'm sure Ritsu will have only positive emotions about what Reigen tried to do once this is made clear to him. :))

one of the other themes i found most interesting was the theme of lies and people trying to act like something they're not, and how that factors in to all the characters' stories. of course mogami is right there (and the parallels between him and reigen in how they both lie to mob for different reasons are super interesting) but i was particularly thinking a lot about reigen, teru, and ritsu and the different sorts of false lives they live -- reigen the con man playing the part of the confident, powerful psychic, constantly lying about his abilities and his accomplishments; teru keeping up the appearance of being totally in control and untouchable, surrounding himself with friends he can't stand and a girlfriend he doesn't care about; ritsu trying to maintain his reputation as the perfect, model student and constructing increasingly elaborate lies to convince his parents that he's doing fine.

i was thinking especially abt the parallels between reigen and teru -- their identities as liars are both emphasized, literally having teru saying "i was lying. i lied to you. i'm a liar" and reigen saying "i lied to you. i've been lying the whole time. i'm a liar" in the same chapter. both of them have grown accustomed to being alone and having a life that's more an expertly crafted facade than anything with substance, but both find in their respective kageyama brothers someone who they genuinely care about -- and they both doom these relationships from the beginning because they can't let go of the facade they're used to keeping up and their desire to feel important/superior. teru continues to be the same smug, uncaring asshole he's designed himself to be even after he starts to see ritsu as a friend, and because of this ritsu remains antagonistic towards and distrusting of him; reigen pretends to be the "21st century's greatest psychic" with mob even when he's starting to care about mob and want him as a permanent fixture in his life, causing things to fall apart when he reveals the truth. they both say the right things to point mob/ritsu in the right direction, but the way they act does the opposite: teru tells ritsu the dangers of what he's doing and reigen tells mob that they should call his family or the police, but at the end of the day, no matter their good intentions, teru likes feeling superior to ritsu and reigen likes having mob depend on him, and so they're not actually going to do anything that would upset that balance. (and, of course, they reassure themselves with the knowledge that it's not their fault, ritsu and mob just won't listen to them! which isn't technically untrue, but nonetheless frames the situation in a way that ignores their own role in it.)

Aaaaaaaaaaaa honestly I don't even think I have anything to add here because your analysis is already so 🤌🤌🤌. They are Liars they are Liars living through a Mask they are Liars who Say one thing and Do another they are Liars who convince themselves this Lie is fine.

all the characters are so good but my favorite has to be ritsu his whole storyline is fantastic. from the start i was enjoying the fic a lot but it was when it started to really get into ritsu's story and his whole deal that i started being like "oh yeah this is the good shit." seeing him go further and further down his self-destructive spiral, constantly digging himself deeper as he hurts himself and the people around him more and more, is so fascinating and painful. and then seeing him get better and start actually wanting to live as he talks to reigen and later teru! and then in the confrontation with mogami when he decides once and for all that he wants to live and remember and try to find a way to fix his mistakes rather than forgetting them or giving in to them! just. he is thirteen years old and he just has all this rage and grief that he's been holding onto and repressing for so long and he finally gets the chance to do something with it, something he can do to find his brother at the low low price of bleeding himself dry, and so he throws himself into that, tearing himself to pieces and not caring who else gets hurt in the process, until he reaches rock bottom, what should be the point of no return -- but it isn't, because teru saves him, because reigen convinces him to try to stay alive, because mob is waiting for him, because he has people who care about him and he's just a desperate, hurting kid and no matter how badly he's fucked up he can still come back from it. just Such a compelling and painful and beautiful character arc

Thank you for stating exactly the reason I loved writing Ritsu's arc so much 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🥺❤️

When I was about 13, I got really into Naruto and I really liked Sasuke's character. Even seeing him now makes some inner part of me point and go "It's Sasuke!" Brooding, stoic, over-achieving, entrenched in family trauma, is swayed over to the darkside because of the rage and grief he's been sitting on.

And because it's Ninja Fantasy World, Sasuke gets to do this and be really cool the whole time.

Ritsu is... actually just a 13-year-old, with psychic powers which he didn't even want after his brother vanished. He IS smart and he IS a model student and he IS powerful but... he's scared. He's scared, and he's 13. He NEEDS to be smarter than everyone (he's not, and he knows this, and it's scary) and more powerful than everyone (he's not, he knows, he's scared), because he knows that anyone with power over him can control him. And he's at his wit's end being controlled.

So he needs to be COMPLETELY in control and have COMPLETE power. And every instance that proves to him he's actually weak, actually clueless, actually being taken advantage of drives him to panic.

And he finds antagonism on all sides... Teru who loves to pick apart and mock Ritsu for every weakness he has. The spirit horde who eat him within an inch of his life. Isa trying to shut him down. His parents trying to control him.

No one is helping him with his grief... No one is finding his brother... No one is saving him... He does not want to keep living like this. And "no longer living" isn't even an option with how heavily his parents rely on him.

So what does he do. He's so alone. He doesn't have a single soul on his side. Every day is torment. ...And then he has this opportunity that shows up like "if you hurt yourself real bad, kill yourself doing it maybe, you can solve the very thing that ruined your life"

So of course he does it. He grabs onto it like a hot stove or a live wire because he's been wanting to hurt himself, and now he can do it in pursuit of the very thing which will save his brother and fix everything. The risk of dying isn't even a risk. It's an escape. He can do this and he can BECOME more powerful and he can GAIN control and he can USE and MANIPULATE whoever he wants (namely the people who've proven again and again they'll hold him down and force obedience out of him).

Of course he spirals. Of course he hurts people...

And then he finds rock-bottom. Teru chews him out and abandons him. Ritsu flips on Gimcrack and exorcises him out of paranoia (Teru turned on him, Gimcrack probably betrayed him too.) He NEARLY kills Reigen under that same absolute fit of paranoia and fear. ...And then he finds his brother. His brother. Alive.

And grabbing his brother shreds his hand. It does not fix him. It does not save him. It maims him.

And now Ritsu is nothing. Not powerful. Not in control. Not certain. He's someone who just hurts people. He's someone who destroys. He drives everyone away and they're RIGHT to leave him because of how horrible he's been. He can't save his brother, and his brother won't save him. ...So Ritsu wanders back to Reigen. The only person who seems to have a semblance of direction in this whole thing. Broken and beaten, Ritsu joins Reigen because he does not know what else to do.

But there is an up from rock-bottom. As much as Reigen and Ritsu are just The Worst to each other, it's actually that childishness in Reigen that starts to work on Ritsu... This is not a typical adult, using adult-speak and adult-authority to make Ritsu comply. Ritsu can't even fall into his typical masked-up behavior against an adult because Reigen is a fucking nuisance and an irritant and Ritsu, for all his "maturity", riles easily.

This is... really just Some Fucking Guy. A loser, at best. But it's someone Ritsu's brother cared about, and who Ritsu knows gave kindness to Mob where Ritsu couldn't. And it's someone who isn't forcing Ritsu to do anything. Reigen is, in fact, letting Ritsu make these decisions to change on his own. Teru comes back with an apology. Ritsu is staring at the chance to do better, and the chance for some future that doesn't involve killing himself.

And he gets to make that decision against Mogami.

And--here's the thing--Mogami was WITH Ritsu for so much of Ritsu's spiral. He knows what sort of kid Ritsu is. So he "knows" Ritsu will accept what Mogami has to offer...

But when "makeshift" vanished was exactly when Mogami got Mob back, aka exactly when Ritsu went to Reigen. Mogami did not get to see Ritsu's healing. So he got to be blindsided by Ritsu's ultimate decision.

and ritsu's dynamic with teru is just. so good i adored every single scene they had together. first of all they are so fucking funny. they're just these two psychic middle schoolers who both suck so bad and just cannot stop trying to murder each other on the soccer field and i love that for them. ritsu's terrible decision-making reaches new heights every day and teru's just standing there watching him and being right about everything in the most annoying way possible. literally the worsties ever <3

I have, consistently, referred to them as "the two worst middle schoolers ever". Like "you're a horde ghost and you're stuck doing the bidding of the two worst middle schoolers ever."

With huge consistency, the scenes I find funniest end up being Ritsu Teru scenes. Because they are, in fact, The Worst.

but more importantly on a serious note i am obsessed with the complicated mess that is their relationship and the way it and the reader's perception of it change as the story goes on. when they first meet things are seemingly pretty straightforward (mostly. i have thoughts which i will talk abt in a second): teru is the one causing the conflict between them by being shitty, and ritsu's just responding to it relatively reasonably. ritsu's the protagonist, the good guy, whereas teru is a morally gray asshole. them working together is a matter of necessity, with ritsu only going along with it because he needs teru's skill and power on his side and teru presumably having his own secret, self-serving motivations. standard stuff; we all know how this goes.

except then the story keeps going, and it gradually becomes apparent that things are far from this simple. it slowly becomes clear that despite teru's arrogance and callousness, he does have ethical standards and lines he won't cross -- whereas ritsu gets more and more unfettered as time goes on. it also gradually becomes obvious that teru does genuinely care about ritsu and see him as a friend (probably the closest thing to a genuine friend teru has), even if teru himself is pretty shitty at being a friend -- leading to the incredibly striking moment when ritsu himself realizes this, and his main takeaway is just that he has power over teru. by the time they have their second soccer field fight, teru has proven himself the more morally upstanding one, which is pretty wild considering the first thing we ever see him do is beat the shit out of a near-defenseless thirteen-year-old for annoying him. of course, he still isn't supposed to be fully in the right -- one thing i really appreciated about the story in general was that the conflicts between characters are rarely as simple as "this character was Right and this one was Wrong," but rather a matter of all the characters making mistakes at one time or another and then having to deal with the consequences and make amends. ritsu and teru's relationship is a prime example of that with how "ritsu made his own decisions and those decisions were Very Bad" and "teru treated ritsu poorly and never actually did the work to make himself someone ritsu could actually trust or would want to listen to" are facts that coexist and both get addressed. the second fight is a masterpiece of a scene in basically every way, but one of my favorite aspects is how teru is desperately trying to reach out to ritsu but is hit with the truth that it's too late for that, that he should have been doing this the whole time, that all this is partially his fault. and in this scene, he fully accepts that, gives in and decides that ritsu is right: it's too late to make amends, it's too late to save ritsu. but it doesn't end there, because this is not a story in which things are simply unfixable, and so instead teru comes back, decides to make the hard choice and try to fix things instead of turning his back on ritsu for good. during the fight, teru says he wants to help ritsu, to sacrifice for him, and ritsu scoffs at him and rejects the idea -- but then teru actually does it. he puts his money where his mouth is and reaches out to ritsu and offers his own psychic energy to save ritsu's life, along with apologizing to him and offering his help to find mob. like i dunno what else to say that's not just summarizing every scene they have together but god i love their dynamic and its arc. i really hope they manage to become actual friends now because god knows they could both use more (read: any) of those. the text exchange they have at the end of the most recent chapter is delightful i love that they bond by insulting reigen i think that's great for them.

Yes yes yes yesssss. It definitely felt like the most ambitious thing early on in ABoT, where I had early-story Ritsu and early-story Teru, and I wanted, somehow, to pull off "they basically swap moral grounds by their second fight."

It's easy enough to just SAY "Ritsu spirals and does progressively worse things. Teru starts to take objection to these more and more until he's the one who thinks this whole thing has gone too far."

And, harkening back to earlier, this kind of plotline has to be deeply rooted in their characters. There is no "Ritsu becomes evil just because" and there is no "Teru becomes good just because."

So they needed to be consistent in their own characters, but evolving under the pressures of the story. Ritsu I talked a lot about early up, how deeply he fears not having control, how much repressed frustration he has over the ways everyone in his life has failed him. And he's never allowed to speak up, or god forbid lash out, because it is his JOB to be the surviving child. Perfect, mature, composed.

Ritsu takes this WILD leap into something insanely dangerous which he has no understanding of, nor power in. Teru IS his first big painful wake-up call with how summarily Teru curbstomps him. Ritsu goes home desperately wanting to quit.

He pushes through it, afraid and knowing he has so little power and control. Then there's Teru, exacerbating this. Because he loves to point out how weak, clueless, and not in control Ritsu is. He jabs and he teases and he chews Ritsu out and he knocks Ritsu down because Teru cannot pass up the chance to prove he's better.

So... of course Ritsu eats up the first opportunity he's given to improve his power over Teru. Gimcrack offers to train him--Gimcrack who's far more supportive of Ritsu than Teru ever is--so of course Ritsu accepts. Every single tick of power in Ritsu's direction is security. And Ritsu is consistently rewarded. He learns to manipulate, and it rewards him with control. He pushes Teru away and it rewards him with independence. He lets the whole horde possess him and it rewards him with power.

And then there's Mezato in all this, threatening to rip away his control. But he can beat that out easily with possession. And if he possesses people, why should he care? Possession feels nice, to him. That's not even a fraction of a fraction of the pain he's been through. He can do this to other people, because possession is POWER.

And, ahhh, possession was such a great thematic vehicle to spin the Ritsu-Teru face-heel-heel-face turn around.

The first cracks we see in Teru's demeanor are all, subtly or not, around possession. When Ritsu almost blasts the possessed woman (Ritsu, panicked, uncertain how to handle things) Teru tackles him and screams at him. (Killing a possessed woman? Teru oh Teru why might that terrify you?)

So Teru DOES have morals. He does have limits. But of course, his first exercise of this is tackling and SCREAMING at Ritsu for fucking up. Just another tick mark in Ritsu's check list of feeling powerless and antagonized.

And the next time, when Ritsu offhandedly mentions he's had his parents possessed for the night while he and Teru were at the meat warehouse... well it's out of focus, since Ritsu is our POV character and he doesn't notice, but Teru freezes. Teru questions this. Teru, instead of letting Gimcrack phase him through the wall (and he was resistant to letting Gimcrack touch him to phase him in in the first place) Teru instead blasts a hole through the warehouse wall.

But... Teru has a plan. When Isa catches Ritsu in the call center, Teru confiscates Ritsu's spirits and (behind his back) blackmails them into never accepting a command from Ritsu to possess someone. (Teru is also a control-freak, and rather than try to talk to Ritsu directly about not possessing people, he just uses manipulation and threats to make it happen).

So now, Teru can relax, surely :). He invites Ritsu along for the movie. He's mocking and insufferable and cruel to Ritsu but, hey :), that's just Teru proving his place in the hierarchy. He... actually does want Ritsu there. He actually does help Ritsu (cauterizes his wound without asking). (It's still power-plays. Still power-plays all the way down which Ritsu hates.)

And Teru... incorrectly... starts to entertain this idea that Ritsu also thinks what they have is friendship. And after the ice cream thing, is when Ritsu leans into Gimcrack's offer to learn how to start being manipulative like Teru is.

So Teru notices NOTHING is wrong for a long time, because now Ritsu is faking it. He doesn't notice until it is much too late. And, frankly, it was ALWAYS too late for Teru to take the moral high road. And some part of Teru realizes this because what he sees in Ritsu, he realizes, is what it looked like to watch Teru from the outside. Teru was ALLOWED to be manipulative and horrible because Teru, himself, always knew he would stop before crossing a real moral line. (Not that Ritsu knew this.) And now he's staring at Ritsu, a true threat who won't listen to reason and who CANNOT reliably be expected to back down before a line is crossed.

And... to THROW this in Teru's face in the FORM of Ritsu letting every spirit from his own horde possess Ritsu during the fight, giving Ritsu the upper hand.

I always knew, for this second fight, the tables would need to be a lot more evenly matched, with Ritsu coming out ahead more often than not. But I also don't like "some character is morally questionable now, and for some reason that's made them stronger than the master character who pulverized them earlier."

But POSSESSION. The motif that all this conflict is hanging upon, used as a boon on Ritsu's side to smash Teru into the ground, to physically and MENTALLY rattle him to the point that he's lagging on Ritsu's attacks and incapable of subduing Ritsu until Teru puts aside his psychic powers all together...

AND JUST... Teru all the while being forced to realize he IS not blameless in this. That every horrible, callous remark he made to Ritsu was not directing Ritsu to the right path or proving himself cool and powerful. They were all instead only cementing Ritsu's hatred of him.

And Teru does not want to accept this at first. He wants to think he did the right thing, ultimately, and it was RITSU who rejected him. And this is where the scene with Slipshod comes into play. Slipshod, who is shown again and again being good at pressing people's buttons. Slipshod is the one bully bigger than Teru in all this, and behind his dumb demeanor is he really really good at knowing how to get a rise out of people. He does it to Reigen while possessing Mezato. He does it to Ritsu while possessing his mother. And he does it to Teru, for fun, because he loves to rub Teru's face in the mess he created.

Which, on the plus side, was the wake up call Teru needed to recognize how consistently horrible HE had been. How much of Ritsu's spiral (and now, imminent death) happened because Teru gleefully pushed him toward it.

Teru's one and only friend.

After Teru swore off friends and loved ones, because they can be used to hurt him.

So it is a big moment, and a big decision Teru makes, when he chooses Ritsu. chooses apologizing. chooses making himself vulnerable (VERY LITERALLY, with how the power transfusion drains Teru to nothing). Teru chooses to care.

And ultimately, it's not even that Teru went from the bad moralless one, to the moral one. He always had these morals. He had these uncrossable lines since day one. But he hid it behind his horrible antagonistic demeanor and the cracks did not come through until he realized he lost control of Ritsu. Teru's ACTUAL heel-face turn comes in him realizing how awful his demeanor was and making amends for that.

i'm actually not done talking about them though because it's finally time for that tangent about teru and ritsu's first fight on the soccer field now because i just reread it while writing that last section and it's so interesting actually. like okay, like i said before it does set teru up as the problem -- in that scene teru is very much the aggressor; he's being a complete asshole for no goddamn reason, with absolutely no compunctions about beating the crap out of some random kid, and ritsu is the scrappy underdog determined to fight back despite not really having the means to. but then there are the moments hinting at more complexity to teru -- him literally stopping the fight to teach ritsu to use his barrier, giving ritsu the makeup after the fight, and of course his decision to spare ritsu in the end. and then on ritsu's side, he almost actually kills teru -- the only reason he doesn't is that teru manages to break free. (awful awful au idea: ritsu actually does kill teru here. would that be fucked up or what) something that stood out to me when rereading it is that despite teru repeatedly saying he'll kill ritsu, and ritsu's internal monologue being very convinced that he's in mortal danger, teru's reaction to ritsu actually almost killing him -- "you really are trying to kill me. we're done", etc -- seems to imply that his threats were more him just talking a big game, expecting ritsu to give in and surrender eventually, and he didn't actually intend to kill him until ritsu gave him an actual reason to. especially interesting to me is the bit where teru asks ritsu if he really meant to kill him, because ritsu's narration and teru's actual actions are kind of at odds -- ritsu tells teru he meant to do it because he thinks him scaring teru is what's making teru hesitate, and that he needs to make teru think he's dangerous in order to get him to leave ritsu alone, but teru's actual response is the opposite, attacking ritsu more fiercely because "there's no reason for [him] to hold back". in general the scene very cleverly sets up the core difference between them: teru is pretty awful but does have firm moral standards, whereas ritsu is desperate and willing to do just about anything if he thinks it's the only option. also the parallels and contrasts with the second soccer field scene are excellent -- the role reversal with the strangling but also how when ritsu does it both the initial act of starting to strangle teru and the fact that he doesn't end up killing teru are both unintentional on ritsu's part, but when teru does it it's a very intentional choice both to do it and to not go through with it; "we're done" said by teru the first time when he's preparing to kill ritsu and then the second time after he's decided not to. have i mentioned that this fic is good because this fic is good. i'm running out of ways to say that

YES!!!!!! ANOTHER RESOUNDING YESYES YES.

I have slightly pre-emptively answered this question by mentioning it above but Teru demonstrates this hypocritical "rules for thee but not for me" because, internally, Teru knows HE will always stop before the line is crossed.

BUT RITSU DOES NOT KNOW THIS. THERE IS NO REASONABLE EXPECTATION FOR RITSU TO KNOW THIS.

So Ritsu, and we the audience, do NOT know this during the first soccer fight. Teru is going to kill Ritsu is a very reasonable conclusion to draw from the way Teru goes all out on Ritsu. Ritsu is terrified. Out of his depth. He's panicking. This kid is going to kill me and he has every reason to believe it.

We don't know, unless (like you) you look at the smaller details, that Teru is not intending to kill Ritsu. He's talking big. He's trying to force submission in Ritsu. He's not trying to kill.

But Ritsu does go for the kill. Because it is the single break he gets and it's perhaps his only chance to survive (he thinks), and he does, IN FACT go for the kill.

Teru breaks free and he does... even give Ritsu the chance to clarify if that was an intended kill-shot. Teru is giving the chance for Ritsu to essentially say "Sorry, accident, don't escalate to trying to kill me." But Ritsu misreads the room, like you point out, and this is when Teru gets serious.

Strangulation, in the first fight and in the last fight. Exactly as you say. Accidental, by Ritsu, the first time, and accidental in letting Teru live. Intentional, by Teru, the second time, and intentional in letting Ritsu live.

"WE'RE DONE" ECHOED. TWICE. In their first fight and their last. With entirely different meanings.

okay those were my big points but i also had a bunch of smaller thoughts so here's just. a list: - i just think it's really funny that teru saves ritsu by punching him in the chest with psychic power on not one but two occasions. literally their dynamic in a nutshell. (also. the way during the time at the mall ritsu responds by being like "did you cauterize me" really gets to me for some reason. he sounds so offended. like you can't just cauterize someone's wound maybe he liked bleeding all over the place you don't know!) (actually wait that thought is also very funny considering what happens with mogami and reigen later. you really can't just cauterize someone's wounds that's very rude. they worked hard to be that grievously injured) - okay so the burger scene. first of all generally a great scene second of all obviously it's a parallel to the scene with mob and the milk (reigen saying "have mine too" and all that) but also i love the parallels to the scene with isa in the coffee shop (also a great scene btw. have i mentioned this fic is good). they're both scenes in which ritsu has a loud emotional breakdown in a public restaurant (love that that happens twice. ritsu honey can you maybe not) with a major focus on ritsu's insistence on letting himself suffer and refusing any kindness he's shown, but they show ritsu at very different points in his story and have very different outcomes -- isa can't manage to get through to ritsu, but reigen can. ritsu refuses the croissant till the end, but he eats the burger. (sorry to add another side note but i love that that was a very serious sentence i just typed about a very emotional character arc.) also the symbolism in the fact that in the coffee shop scene, ritsu's explosion of psychic powers freezes and then spills his hot chocolate, rendering it undrinkable, but then in the burger scene when he blows up the ceiling the dust explicitly doesn't get on the food, so he can still eat it. good shit - i'm trying to avoid going through every single line or joke i liked one by one but i will say. the "this--" "reigen." "reigen" jokes were both incredibly funny on their own but the fact that they're like 30 chapters apart is what really kills me. the dedication. i saw the second one and was thinking "didn't that joke happen before. when was that. wait was that literally all the way back with tetsuo". countless plot events and several irl years may pass but reigen will never catch a break - the "FUCK OFF" tag reigen made being the one that they exorcise mogami with. perfect - love that ritsu is indirectly responsible for teru's girlfriend breaking up with him (good for mei honestly. sure teru wasn't actually cheating but his ass deserved to get dumped) and i like to imagine that teru never lets this fact go. he's not particularly upset about the breakup but he WILL bring up that ritsu ruined his relationship at every possible opportunity purely to annoy him

I THINK YOU MAY PERHAPS BE THE FIRST PERSON TO RECOGNIZE THE DOUBLE-CAUTERIZATION, and the intentional joke in Ritsu, the first time, declaring "Don’t… perform psychic medical procedures on me without my permission, okay?!" Like sorry bud, this is not the last unauthorized psychic medical cauterization Teru's gonna perform on you.

But not every unauthorized medical cauterization can be a win. Turns out when Mogami does it it's kinda mean >:(. But also necessary, for a not-dead Reigen, so actually thanks Mogami.

ABSOLUTELY THE "HAVE MINE TOO" INTENTIONAL PARALLEL BETWEEN THE MILK SCENE AND THE BURGER SCENE. I'm always glad when someone notices the repeat phrasing that ends both those scenes.

And aaghhhhh I could write a whole other essay about the symbolism that food plays with Ritsu's plotline, but in the smallest nutshell how it tends to represent someone reaching out with care and how often Ritsu rejects it. One public restaurant psychic outburst rendered the offered food unconsumable and the other one intentionally points out the way the food (burger) avoided the destruction :')

THANK YOU YES. "This--" "Reigen." "Reigen." as a repeat joke tickles me so much. Just Some Guy energy. Could've played the most pivotal role all night but he'll still end up somewhere next day where someone needs to figure out who he is. Reigen is here too, btw. His name is Reigen, btw.

Fuck Off tag was delightful... It started as an inside joke for a very early comic that @sandflakedraws drew (and then later redrew), of the (chapter 5 or 6) Reigen Tetsugami confrontation. The ineffective tag Reigen sticks to Tetsugami's cheek has, in katakana, "fuck off" written on it. Hilarious enough joke for me, years later, to incorporate it into the story.

Re: the girlfriend thing. I've joked before "if I had a nickel every time evil spirit possession was mistaken for an affair in ABoT I'd have 2 nickels. Which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened twice." But yeah, Ritsu, you asshole. You cost your bro his girlfriend.

i could just keep going but at this rate i'm going to be going back through the entire fic and just talking about every single scene so i should probably stop before this gets any longer. basically what i wanna say though is that the fic was very good, thank you for writing it, it has given me brainworms. once again i am so sorry for the length of this ask

THANK YOU!!! I think I just spent like 2 hours writing this response because, as you can see, I REALLY LIKE talking about this stuff haha!!

[azelsdoormat]

Azel Radwan Main Story

► Chapter 0

This translation is fanmade and strictly for entertainment purposes only. All media and original content belong to Cybird. Do not use, claim as your own, repost or reupload onto other platforms, reblogs are welcome.

Content Warning: mentions of child abuse, graphic descriptions of violence, gore?, generally disturbing content.

True love — to me, is the most evil of curses that must never befall me.

…

Azel: High Priest… please… stop

The whip tore into human flesh, and the blood-curdling screams of my beloved brothers rang through the air.

The cold, hard floor was stained bright red with the blood dripping from their torn fingernails. It was an image burned into those so-called “divine eyes” that would never fade. 

The grotesque sight, as horrifying as every nightmare in the world combined, unfolded before my eyes.

And I, this powerless god, could do nothing but scream and cry until my voice went hoarse. 

Azel: I beg of you. I’ll do anything you say. 

Azel: It’s all my fault for being a bad boy, it’s my fault for not behaving well. 

Azel: Please stop. I promise I won’t run away again. 

Azel: Please, I beg of you, please, please, I beg… 

I clung pathetically to the High Priest’s robes, desperately repeating my pleas.

While people revere me as a god, the reality was far from that. 

High Priest: Your Holiness… I sincerely apologise. I have no desire to cause you harm. 

The High Priest stroked my head with pity, smiling tenderly. 

In the middle of that nightmarish scene, he was the only source of kindness. 

High Priest: This, too, is love.

Azel: … Love?

High Priest: You are an extraordinary being, Your Holiness. If anything were to happen to you, it would be too late.

High Priest: To ensure that no mishaps occur to your sacred body, I must mete out severe disciplinary actions as such. 

High Priest: This is all for your sake. Please understand. 

The whip was swung once more.

My brothers, hung from the ceiling, gradually lost the light in their eyes and were reduced to nothing but mere empty shells. 

If this is what people call “love”— then I despise this monstrosity with every fiber of my being. 

Azel: … I… understand…

Azel: I understand, so… stop it already.

Azel: I’ll listen to everything you say.

Azel: I’ll work hard, I’ll become a proper god.

Azel: … Please… 

…

<< Fast Forward Many Years Later >>

Matias: Have you two heard about the romance novel that's become popular in Rhodolite lately?

The princes of three countries held regular meetings in different locations, and they would occasionally stray into idle chatter. 

The topics varied, but today, of all things we could possibly talk about, it had to be the one topic I didn't want to hear about the most. 

Kagari: Don't know.

Azel: I have no interest in such items. 

Matias: I can lend you my copy of the book. 

Azel: Please only offer it to Kagari. 

Kagari: No way. Matias is impossible to handle when it comes to these topics. 

Azel: Unfortunately, I am deathly allergic to anything related to romance. 

Matias: Is there such a thing?

Azel: Yes, and therefore—

Matias: Then I’ll read it aloud for you. 

(... This hell just became even hotter. Someone spare me.) 

Matias didn't look like he was about to back down any time soon and placed the book on the table.

The book’s design was boring and unremarkable. 

Matias: This book is so detailed in depicting the process of love developing, it’s known as a bible for beginners to romance.

Matias: I’ve read through it myself, and it’s truly a treasure trove of information.

Matias: Take the first date scene on page 32 for instance. According to this bible—...

Ignoring Matias’ rambling, I pulled the book toward me and haphazardly flipped through the pages. 

(Ugh… what is this nonsense?)

As expected of something that received such high praise from Matias, the contents of the book were revoltingly vivid portrayals of romance. 

Most of the story was filled with unnecessary trivial chattering between lovestruck men and women. 

Kagari: So you lied about being allergic.

Azel: It was not a lie. Please have a look at these goosebumps on my skin. 

Kagari: Looks like the real deal.

Azel: While Matias yearns for romance, I am the complete opposite.

Azel: Merely hearing the words “love” and “romance” gives me the chills. 

I recalled the day “love” was defined to me with a merciful smile. 

Even now, seeing that word made me sick to the stomach. The very thought fills me with so much disgust, I felt dizzy. 

(Apart from that hag, there were plenty of other people who preached about love with equally ridiculous reasoning.) 

(I can never understand how Matias can so purely believe in love…)

Matias: You’re weird. Is there really anyone who hates being loved?

Azel: Perhaps it is because I am a god and different from ordinary mortals. 

Azel: … At the very least, I neither want to love nor be loved.

Azel: I’ve learned firsthand that love is nothing but misery.

I shut the book and shoved it back at Matias.

I knew without a doubt that I never wanted to open a book of that genre ever again.

Matias: No need to return it. This book is my gift to you.

Azel: No, thank you. I refuse.

Matias: Don’t say that. While you may despise love and romance now, your thinking could change someday.

Matias: You could meet your ideal queen in the middle of a scorching desert where she’s on the verge of collapsing, and after you nurse her back to health— 

Azel: Matias, back to reality, please. 

Matias: Ahem. Anyway, it won't hurt to have the beginner’s bible with you. 

Matias: It covers everything from how to invite someone on a date to spending the night together. Study it well. 

I glared at the book Matias pushed back at me.

(Arguing any further is too much of a hassle.)

(Whatever. I’ll simply not open it ever.) 

(Or maybe… I could sell it to Akatsuki instead.)

(I’ve had more than enough of being loved.)

…

(... Hm?)

I suddenly regained consciousness and found myself in an unfamiliar setting.

(Is this a rose garden? It looks rather neglected, though.)

The feeling of entering “another person’s dream” was one I had experienced countless times before.

While I didn't remember every instance clearly, I was certain I had never experienced entering the dreams of someone who owned a rose garden. 

(This isn’t a dream someone who lives in the desert would have.) 

At the junction where several paths intersected, was an oak table with a single book on it. 

I casually picked it up and read through the contents, the owner of the dream’s life story started flowing through my mind.

The story was incomplete, but the owner’s “wish” was clear.

Azel: I see, I see…

Azel: How utterly laughable. 

(A strong yearning for love… they belong to the same category of people as Matias.) 

Someone approached me.

I shifted my gaze to the side and saw an unfamiliar woman standing there. 

???: What’s… laughable?

Azel: I have some unfortunate news for you, who yearns for love and thirsts for knowledge of what it is.

Azel: Love is not the grand blessing it is often proclaimed to be. 

Azel: Sometimes, it would serve you well to remain ignorant and pure for your entire life. You would find far greater happiness that way.

(Not that I intend to force my beliefs onto others…) 

The woman looked like a personification of virtue, and someone who would fall prey to the first con artist she encountered.

It was because of that first impression that, for once, God chose to be merciful.

Azel: I have witnessed many examples of “love”. Not in fiction… but rather the raw, unvarnished love that exists in reality.

Azel: Far too often, people use “love” as a means to justify their otherwise unjustifiable actions.

Azel: It is truly tragic to see people driven mad by love.

Azel: Even the most rational people become unable to live without it.

Azel: Like a curse. 

(There's a chance that this woman, who knows nothing about love now, will become a changed person once she experiences it.) 

(... I can only hope that doesn't happen to her.)

May that ugly curse called “love” never turn her into a beast—

This powerless god could do nothing else but pray for her, just like I did on that one fateful day. 

[shy2-29]

𝘼 𝙏𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙨 | 𝙡.𝙝𝙨 [𝙢]

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: there are 4 more days until Christmas, and both you and your boyfriend Heeseung are invited to Jake, (Heeseung’s friend)’s early Christmas party. Everything seemed to go smoothly until a certain someone shows up, causing you to storm out of the party, away from Heeseung. It’s been 3 days, and Heeseung hasn’t talked to you since. Tomorrow is Christmas and all you’ve done is lay in your bed. Will Heeseung do anything about it? Will your Christmas be saved?

word count: 4.6k

theme: angst, fluff, sfw

authors note: yes I know Christmas passed but.. ugh I just couldn’t resist🙃 anyways this took me two days so pls reblog to show support :) e/n stands for “exes name” btw. Sunoo and Jake are side characters in the story. Reader calls Heeseung ‘Hee,’ sometimes. First fanfic and im new to tumblr so gimme some time 😭 sorry I posted it earlier than intended, I have 0 patients 💀

warning: ‼️ not proof read, crying, swearing, cheating kinda, pet names, reader starves herself, but that’s rlly it but if there’s anything I missed, please lmk ‼️

requests: open

As you walk into the party with Heeseung, you can feel the stares coming your way. Jake, Heeseung’s closest friend, eyes your matching Christmas sweaters with a smirk. "Looks like the couple of the hour has arrived," he teases, noticing the red, sparkly antler headbands you are both wearing. "You two make a pretty cute pair with those holiday outfits."

Heeseung rolls his eyes at Jake’s teasing and tries to defend himself. “It was her idea, not mine,” he grumbles, motioning towards you. “She’s the one who picked out these ridiculous sweaters.”

Jake chuckles and leans against his table, looking you up and down. “No kidding?” he says with a smirk. “Looks like your girlfriend has good taste. I like the antler headbands.”

Heeseung let out a frustrated sigh. “Can we please change the subject?”

“What, do you not like it?” You pout, clinging onto Heeseung’s sweater, seeking his reassurance.

He shakes his head, a small smile forming on his face as he looks down at you. “Of course I like it,” he assures you gently, patting your head. “I was just annoyed by Jake’s teasing. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

As the knock on the door echoes, Jake quickly opens it to reveal a stunning figure - e/n. She exudes elegance with her long, silky black hair and flawless skin.

Heeseung's heart skips a beat as he lays eyes on her. It has been quite some time since they've seen each other in person, and despite the occasional texts, his heart does a little somersault. He quickly tries to hide his reaction, but he can feel the curious gazes of both Jake and the others, who clearly notice his change in expression.

You on the other hand, remain blissfully ignorant of who she is and the history she shares with Heeseung.

“What are you guys so shocked about?” you ask, noticing the mildly stunned expressions on both guy’s faces.

Heeseung takes a deep breath, a mix of nervousness and determination in his eyes. "e/n is...someone I’ve known for a while," he explains hesitantly, his voice betraying his emotions. "We go way back."

“Oh!” you say cheerfully, perking up a smile. “Then we should go say h— “

Heeseung quickly interrupts you, his heart pounding in his chest. "No, no." he says, his voice edged with anxiety. "You don't have to greet her."

“No Heeseung,“ you try to protest, taking his hand in yours. “A friend of yours is a friend of mine!”

Jake lets out a scoff, raising an eyebrow at your innocent demeanour. He shakes his head and scrolls through his phone.

Heeseung hesitates for a moment, his heart conflicted. Part of him doesn't want to let you approach her, knowing that seeing e/n would bring up a maelstrom of emotions for him. But at the same time, he didn't want to upset you, so he eventually gives in.

"Okay," he says reluctantly, his grip on your hand tightening. "Let's go greet her then..”

You both make your way to the entrance, slowly approaching e/n. She looks more beautiful than ever, her long black hair cascading down her shoulders. As she spots you both, her face lights up in a warm smile.

“Heeseung,” she says, her voice soft and honeyed. “It’s been so long.”

He smiles weakly, his heart thudding in his chest. “Yeah, it has,” he responds, trying to support a cool exterior. “How have you been?”

She looks at him for a moment, her eyes lingering on his face before shifting to you. Her expression softens and she smiles warmly. "And who is this?" she asks, eyeing you up and down in a friendly manner.

“I’m y/n, his girlfriend,” you reply with your usual warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you! Heeseung tells me you’re an old friend of his?” you inquire, tilting your head to the side curiously.

E/n smirks, her tone laced with an undercurrent of amusement. "An old friend, huh? Is that what Heeseung told you?"

She looks at you, her eyes flicking over your body before settling on your face again. "You're cute," she says, her voice still tinged with humour. "Heeseung really lucked out with you."

As you let out a happy squeal, Heeseung feels a pang of guilt, his smile faltering. Your innocent joy contrasts sharply with His burdened knowledge.

"Heeseung, have you been keeping secrets from your pretty girlfriend?" e/n asks.

Heeseung glowers at her, his jaw clenched. "No, I haven't," he snaps, trying to maintain his composure. "I've never lied to her."

E/n smirks, her tone suggestive. "You sure you've never lied to her, Heeseung, even about a certain ex-girlfriend?"

E/n interrupts, her smirk still in place. "He still has feelings for me," she declares confidently, her eyes flickering to Heeseung’s tense face. "Three months ago, he personally reached out to me, confessing that he still has deep feelings for me and desired to reconnect. Yet, he mysteriously omitted to mention that he was in a new relationship with you."

Heeseung can't tear his eyes away from you as you try to downplay the situation. You're being so sweet and understanding, and it only makes him feel even more guilty for lying to you. He can’t bring himself to meet your gaze, filled with shame and guilt. The room is eerily quiet, the party guests watching the tense exchange with bated breath. You can feel your heart sinking as you release his hand. “Is that true, Hee…?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung looks down, unable to meet your eyes. “It’s true,” he mutters, his voice heavy with remorse. “I haven’t been completely honest with you. I’ve still thought about e/n…even though we’re together.”

The revelation hangs heavily in the air, the room still eerily quiet. You stand there, absorbing the weight of his admission, the party still going on around you but feeling a world apart from the festivities.

The others gasp in disbelief and disapproval as Jiwon chuckles smugly. You, meanwhile, remain silent, absorbing the weight of my confession. Heeseung can't bear to look at your face right now.

You break the silence with a frustrated remark, "This is stupid." You take off your red sparkling reindeer headband and placed it on a nearby table, not wasting another moment before walking out of Jake's house.

The room is still, a heavy silence hanging in the air after the reader’s frustrated remark and their departure. The people at the party watch on with looks of judgment and disappointment, although Heeseung is too focused on the door to pay them any mind. He wants to go after you, to explain himself and try to make things right.

Jake shakes his head in disbelief, shooting Heeseung a disapproving glare. “Seriously man?” he mutters. “You better go catch up to her.”

But e/n, still firmly holding onto his sweater, has other ideas, her voice laced with a hint of possessiveness. "Don’t go after her," she says, her grip on his sweater growing tighter. "You’re not over me, Heeseung. It’s pointless."

"You're just going to hurt your little girlfriend even more," e/n continues, her voice mocking. "You shouldn't be with her if you're still not over me."

He turns to e/n, his expression hard and filled with frustration. "This isn’t about you," he says firmly, his voice low. "This is between her and me. You have no right to tell me what to do."

He can feel his anger growing at her words. But he can't deny the truth in them.

—

It has been 3 days since the incident at Jake’s early Christmas party, and Heeseung hasn’t spoken to you since. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s busy with e/n, or he’s just waiting for the write time to apologize.

Three days have passed and Heeseung hasn't spoken to you since. You're not sure if it’s because he's busy with e/n, or he's just waiting for the right time to apologize. You, on the other hand, have been inside your apartment all day, moping around miserably. You've also stopped eating as well. Sunoo, your roommate, tries cheering you up, and you still have not left your room. Sunoo knows it’s not like you to be so down on Christmas—after all, it’s your favorite time of the year.

“Come on, let’s finish up decorating the apartment,” Sunoo begs, “pleaseee, forget about that jerk! Ever since that incident happened, you stopped helping me decorate the apartment and Christmas is in less than 24 hours!”

Sunoo knows it’s not like you to be so down on the holidays, especially your favorite time of the year. Even the thought of Christmas failed to lift your spirits this time.

"Fine," you sigh, finally emerging from your room to help Sunoo decorate.

You take a moment to freshen yourself up, putting on your favorite hoodie and combing your hair. With a renewed energy, you join Sunoo in the living room.

"Hey, Sunoo," you start, looking at the growing pile of decorations. "Can we bake some Christmas cookies?"

Sunoo's face lights up at the suggestion. "Definitely, you could use something sweet huh?” His cheerful mood drops when notices your usual cheerful mood still lacking, even after getting out of your room. "Still haven't heard from Heeseung, huh?" he asks, watching you sink into the couch.

"No," you reply, pouting. "I didn't expect him to be such a jerk. Not even an apology."

Sunoo sighs at your words, a sympathetic look on his face. “I’m sure there’s more to the story than just that,” he says, trying to reassure you. “Maybe there’s a reason he’s still hung up on her, a reason he can’t move on.”

You look up at him, a bitter expression on your face. “Like what? Nothing justifies still wanting his ex when he’s with me.”

Sunoo contemplates for a moment before speaking up, a hint of curiosity in his tone. "Well, have you ever asked him why he still had feelings for her?"

You shake your head, a mixture of anger and frustration. "No, why would I ask that? It just hurts more to hear the answer."

Sunoo nods, his expression understanding. "But don't you think it's important to understand why he still carries feelings for her? Maybe there's a deeper explanation behind it."

You hesitate, knowing deep down that Sunoo has makes a good point. "I...I suppose I never considered that," you admit. "But it still doesn't make me feel any better knowing he still has feelings for her. It feels like our relationship was a second choice."

—

“You fucked up dude,” Jake sighs as he watches Heeseung throws himself onto his bed. It’s been three days since the incident, and Heeseung being the pussy he is, he can’t bare to speak to you. He knows he messed up, and he keeps telling himself he’ll never be forgiven.

Heeseung groans and sits up to face Jake. "Yeah, I know," he replies, a look of guilt on his face. "I just can't bring myself to talk to her. I know I messed up bad and I'm sure she'll never forgive me."

"Come on, at least give it a try," Jake urges. "Christmas is tomorrow. Maybe you can explain the whole situation to her and tell her it was just the beginning and that you never kept contact with e/n. I’m sure she’d forgive you; you know y/n is a caring person.”

After minutes of persuading, Jake finally convinces Heeseung to call you. Heeseung hesitates, looking anxious.

"But what if she-"

"Just do it," Jake interrupts firmly, pressing the call button under your contact name on Heeseung's phone, y/nnie 💗.

—

Buzz

And another.

Buzz

"Y/n!" Sunoo calls from to you from the kitchen. "Heeseung is calling!"

Your heart skips a beat as you hurriedly finished your business and rushed to the kitchen, where your phone is lying on the counter. You grab it, nearly dropping it in the process, and motion for Sunoo to leave the kitchen. He side-eyes you before leaving, carrying freshly baked christmas goods with him.

You bring the phone to your ear. "Hello?"

"Y/n," Heeseung's faint voice came through the other end. "Can I come over tomorrow? We need to talk."

Your breath hitches at the sound of his voice, heart thudding heavily in your chest. What could he possibly want to talk about?

—

You lay in bed, rolling over to the right side, and let out a weary yawn. The clock on your bedside table reads 8:21 am. You and Heeseung had agreed that he would come over around noon, so you still had plenty of time to prepare.

As you choose an outfit, your mind keeps returning to the same thought - did Heeseung and e/n ever meet up? Did he really have feelings for her? Your gaze lands on the hideous Christmas sweater you both wore at Jake's party. "Fuck Christmas," you mutter to yourself, heading to the bathroom to comb your hair and apply a decent amount of makeup.

You hurry out of your room, admiring the festive decorations Sunoo and you had spent hours putting up yesterday, and the Christmas sugar cookies laid out in the kitchen. Your gaze drifts to the window to see it snowing, making you squeal in excitement. "Sunoo! Sunoo, it's snowing!" you exclaim, rushing to his cozy room and shaking his tired body.

Sunoo turns to face you with a sleepy expression, his blonde hair tousled, his flawless skin illuminated by the morning light.

"Wha...?" he mumbles, rubbing his eyes and looking out the window at the falling snow. "Oh, yeah, it is." He turns back to you, a sly smile forming on his lips. "Someone looks excited. Is it because you haven't seen Heeseung in almost a week?"

Before you can respond, the doorbell rings, making you jump a bit. You glance at his alarm clock—it wasn't even 9:00 yet. Was Heeseung early?

You quickly rush to the door, Sunoo behind you. The doorbell rings again as you reach the door, and you can feel your heart starting to race. You take a deep breath and open the door.

Heeseung stands hesitantly on the doorstep, looking a bit nervous and discomfited. He clears his throat and asks quietly, "I know I’m early but... can I come in?"

You open the door wider, indicating that he can enter. Sunoo, standing next to you, observes Him with an unreadable expression.

As Heeseung takes in the cheerful decor, the view of white snowflakes drifting down from the early morning sky, his eyes widen, clearly impressed. He glances down at the two bags in his hands, realizing that you and Sunoo probably hadn't anticipated him bringing gifts.

"I got you both something." He says awkwardly, holding out the bags to you and Sunoo. "Merry Christmas."

Heeseung shuffles awkwardly in place, feeling somewhat out of place as Sunoo accepts the bags and places them beneath the radiant, lit Christmas tree. Sunoo then gives you a knowing wink before disappearing into his room.

"So.." you begin, perching on the plush leather couch, your body tingling with the warmth radiating from the fireplace. Heeseung takes a seat next to you, keeping a close proximity, allowing you to feel the heat of his body. The fire in the fireplace crackles and pops as the two of you sit in a thick silence. The atmosphere is beginning to feel suffocating, so you take the initiative.

"Are you going to explain yourself or what?" you mutter, avoiding his gaze. It is difficult to look at him after the incident at Jake's place. Yet, you know you owe it to yourself to listen to him. He sighs deeply, staring at nothing in particular, clearly uncomfortable. He, too, refuses to make eye contact, well aware of the nature of the upcoming conversation. A cocktail of emotions fills him, with embarrassment and shame at the forefront.

"It's true," he begins, his voice soft and filled with remorse, "I wasn't over e/n. But I am now."

He then lifts his chin up to look at you, finally ready to speak. "It was when we first started dating. I was browsing through social media and stumbled upon her Instagram. I decided to send her a message, flirting with her occasionally." He pauses, hesitating, before continuing. "However, as I got to know you better, I fell head over heels for you. So, I completely shut her out of my life."

He’s looking at you intently now. His gaze is fixated on the side of your face, hoping that you will turn around and look at him. He hates that you aren’t looking at him, he wanted to see your expressions so he can read you like a book. He continues to speak in a soft tone, as he knows he is treading on thin ice with you.

“I swear that I wasn’t even thinking of her, and I had no intention to ever do anything with her...” his voice was even softer now as he reached out towards you. He touched your knee gently, hoping to get you to glance at him. “Please come back to me, I miss you...”

Your heart is conflicted—a part of you longs to forgive him, but deep down you know that what he did was inexcusable. Unable to admit how much you actually miss him; you utter words to mask your true emotions. "What you did was wrong… even if it was at the beginning of our relationship."

He can start feeling himself deflate with every word you say, desperation becoming apparent in his voice. “Please forgive me...” he moved his hand from your knee to your arm, gripping it gently. “i’ll do anything you need me to do... just please forgive me...”

He moved closer to you, pleading silently for you to look at him. “Please look at me. I need to see what you’re thinking and feeling. i’ve missed you so much these past few days...”

He grabbed your chin suddenly and made you look at him. He searched your eyes, desperately looking for a sign that you still had some kind of feelings for him. “don’t pull away from me please..”

The sight of him, so distraught and vulnerable, tugs at your heartstrings and tears well up in your eyes. You struggle to hold them back as you force out, “I…I’m willing to give you another chance.”

His eyes widened at your words and a look of relief washed over his face. He began to tear up himself and a small smile formed on his lips. He let go of your chin and hugged you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “do you mean it? you’ll give me another chance..?”

You hum in response, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him in closer, the tears you’ve been holding in finally spilling out.

He buried his face even deeper into your neck, his hair tickling your face. He felt your tears hit his neck, and he began to cry as well. He was finally going to have you back in his arms again, he wasn’t letting you go this time.

“As hard as it is to admit,” you say between sniffle, “I missed you so much Hee..”

He squeezed you slightly against him at your words, as if he was reassuring himself that you were really there in his arms. “I missed you a whole lot more..” he mumbled into your neck.

—

After hours spent reconnecting, catching up on the four days spent without each other, Sunoo eventually emerges from his room and joins you. The three of you settle down to watch the film, "Home Alone," as the night falls, the dark sky contrasting beautifully with the sparkling Christmas lights.

Throughout the movie, Heeseung unconsciously makes sure to physically touch you in some way—leaning his head on your shoulder, holding your hand, or resting his knee against yours. It's as if he's trying to make up for the lack of contact over the last few days.

"Hey, let's open the gifts under the tree now," Sunoo suggests, a hint of eagerness in his voice. "I've been waiting for centuries."

Heeseung laughs at Sunoo’s exaggerated statement, and he leans back from where he was leaning on your shoulder. “Alright then let’s go,” he says, standing up and holding out his hand to you.

He practically jumps off the couch and onto the floor by the Christmas tree.

—

After many minutes of unwrapping and laughter, the only presents left to be opened are the ones you prepared for Heeseung and you.

"Heeseung, it's your turn," you grin, handing him a rectangular box wrapped in red and white wrapping paper. Seeing the excitement in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat.

Heeseung eagerly takes the box, his expression filled with anticipation. He carefully peels off the wrapping paper, slowly revealing the contents inside. You watch as his smile grows wider and wider, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of the brand-new fancy keyboard, a cool-looking mouse, and gaming headphones. You chuckle as he gazes at the gifts in wonder, clearly thrilled with his presents.

"You play a lot of games, Hee," you laugh, taking in his astonished and embarrassed reaction. You remember the times you’d just sit there in his room, listening to him game with his friends as you help clean his room, paint your nails, or whatever it is that you fancy.

Heeseung was a bit stunned at your gift, speechless for a few seconds as he just stared at the box of gaming accessories. He knew those things were expensive, and his mouth was still slightly open in shock.

He looked up at you with a smile and a slight embarrassed blush crept across his face. “You really didn’t have to, Y/n..”

Holding the box gently in his hands, Heeseung runs his fingers over its smooth edges, still unable to believe you got all these fantastic gifts for him. His heart races and he can't seem to wipe the wide smile from his face. "Okay, now it's your turn to open the gift I got for you," he says, reaching behind him to grab a medium-sized box wrapped in black and yellow wrapping paper. His smile has a hint of nervousness as he hands you the present.

Heeseung shoots Sunoo a glare, but quickly forgets about him and turns his full attention back to you as you open the envelope. He’s watching your every move intently, waiting for you to read the first card.

You happily accept the box, and your fingers begin to unwrap the paper with careful precision. Heeseung watches you intently, his gaze shifting between your face and your hands, filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. His eyes flicker back and forth as he waits in anticipation for your reaction.

As you remove the wrapping from the box, a beautiful silk pink pajama set is revealed. Your eyes widen in awe, but Heeseung tells you there's more, pointing to a small envelope inside the box.

You carefully take the pajama set out of the box, revealing a small envelope with the words “100 reasons why I love you" written on it. Sunoo tries to catch a glimpse, rolling his eyes at the sight. "Ew, you cheesy fucks," he mutters, giving both of you a playful side-eye.

Heeseung gazes at you intently, carefully observing your facial expressions as you progress through the list. He notices the surprise, then a subtle smile, and finally, a full grin once you finish reading the last reason.

Tears fill your eyes, welling up to the point of spilling over. You scoot closer to him, nuzzling your head against his chest.

"It means so much to me, Hee," you say softly.

Heeseung wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you nestle your head against his chest, tears soaking into his shirt.

He gently rubs your back, comforting you, with one hand resting on the small of your back and the other running through your hair. "Of course, baby," he whispers, his voice filled with affection. "I love you so fucking much."

Sunoo rolls his eyes at the intimate moment and quietly takes his cue to leave, giving Heeseung the ‘you stole my best friend away from me’ look, leaving you two alone under the flickering lights of the tree.

The rest of the night was spent talking and laughing, enjoying each other’s company. And when the sky completely darkened, he carried you to his room and held you all night.

You nuzzle your head further into his chest, relishing the feeling of his fingers running through your hair. You can hear his heartbeat through his shirt, and you find the steady rhythm comforting.

Heeseung moves his other hand to your waist, intertwining your legs in his. He let out a soft sigh, feeling completely content as he held you close.

“Merry Christmas y/n.”

—

Omg I had so much fun writing this😭 lmk if you wanna be added on my tag list! My requests are open :) read my pinned post for more info

taglist: @mheretoreadff

[minswriting]

hii, i have a request :) im not sure if you've done anything like it before, but i was wondering if you could write a fic about a fem reader having phone sex with spencer ??

i have definitely written this before but i will indeed write it again because i love phone sex with spencer

nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader | masturbation (m & f), dirty talk, phone sex, etc.

For once, the roles were reversed. Spencer was home after a long case and you were the one away on a business trip for work in California. It was a planned business trip, one that you had put into your shared calendar on the fridge months ago. But it didn’t mean that Spencer didn’t miss you any less. He wanted to hold you, to feel you against him, to sleep next to you, to sleep with you.

Spencer was sitting on the couch with a book in his lap. The book was about quantum physics, a topic he was usually so excited to reread over and over again. And yet, all he could think about was how much he wanted you. His mind kept wandering to you lying on the mattress with his face buried between your thighs, your juices coating his tongue. His cock hardened in his corduroy pants as he thought about you. He tossed his book to the side, not caring about anything else at the moment.

Spencer palmed himself through his pants, his eyes fluttering shut as he sunk into the couch. He let out a soft moan, thinking about everything he’d do to you when you got back from your trip. The way he would worship your body, kissing every inch of your skin. Or the way he would bury his cock inside of you, taking his time fucking you. Spencer unzipped his pants, pulling them down enough to reveal his hard cock. And just as he was about to wrap his hand around his length, his cell phone began ringing on the coffee table, showing your icon on his lock screen.

He answered without any hesitation. “Hey, you,” He said a bit shakily.

“Hey, handsome,” came the soft tone of your voice, causing Spencer’s cock to twitch with interest. “What are you up to?”

Spencer took a deep breath, looking down at his cock as he kept his phone to his ear. “Not much,” He replied, pursing his lips. “Was just thinking about you.”

You paused for a second before replying. “Were you about to jerk off?” You asked with a teasing tone, the sound of shifting coming through the receiver.

Spencer let out a breathy chuckle. “Yeah,” He murmured. “Is-is that okay?”

“Of course, baby,” You replied. “Go ahead and touch yourself. What were you thinking about?”

Spencer swirled a finger over the tip of his cock, letting out a shaky breath. “Kissing you,” he said, licking his lips. “Tasting you.”

You let out a hum. “I miss your lips on me,” You said seductively. “Eating me out.”

Spencer wrapped his hand around his cock, jerking himself off gently. “Want to bury my tongue inside of you so badly, sweetheart,” he moaned, closing his eyes as he thought about all of the times he’d done so. “The way your hands tug at my hair, the way your thighs clench around my face, the way you taste,” he spoke, stroking himself a bit faster. “God, I just want you.”

Spencer heard you moan gently on the other end. “I want you so badly, Spence,” You breathed out. “Touching myself thinking about you.”

“Fuck,” Spencer moaned, pumping his cock. “I want to bury myself inside of you,” he whimpered, swallowing before continuing, “feel how wet you are on my cock.”

“I’m so wet, Spencer,” You whined softly, fingering yourself as you listened to him. “Want you to fuck me so good.”

Spencer let out a choked moan, thinking about all the ways he would have you. “I’m so close, baby,” he moaned, feeling his cock twitching in his hand as he stroked himself.

“Me too,” You breathed out.

Neither of you spoke anymore, just moaning in each other’s ear as you got yourselves off to one another. Spencer didn’t shy away from his noises, moaning and whimpering into the receiver. “O-Oh fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back. “I’m cumming, baby,” he said, bucking his hips into his fist as he came, coating his hand and chest with his cum.

“Spencer,” You moaned as you came, gasping as you did so.

And when you both finished, you were both quiet. The only sounds coming through were the heavy breathing you both were doing as you came down from your high. After a few minutes of silence, Spencer spoke, “How was your day?” He asked, looking up at the ceiling.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips at the sudden change of atmosphere. Then, you began talking about your day, going into detail about business meetings you had attended. And Spencer listened to every word with a soft smile on his face.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

No restraint

Yandere!Steven Grant x fem!reader

Cw/triggers: Nsfw, smut, darkfic, delusional Steven, dub-con, non-con, implied kidnapping, implied captivity, obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of stalking.

Steven knew next to everything about you. And all it took for his obsession with you to start was a simple, normal talk.

He knew the way to your place almost like the back of his hand, how easily he could march in with the right tools.

Of course he knew nobody would even consider someone like himself capable of such cruel things, but his determination for you made him do nearly anything.

Tonight's the night.

Where Steven is going to finally see you up close, to finally show you what you, even if, by accident, made him do for you.

Steven was tired of watching you, he was so tired of jerking off to the thought of you. He wants the real deal.

While you slept peacefully in your bed, Steven managed to break into your home, creeping through the place until he slowly opened the door into your room, revealing you, and stalking carefully towards you.

His breathing almost hitched from all the excitement he felt, you were so close.

It wasn't hard for him to get you immobile in your own bed. Tape around your wrists and mouth did the trick.

He could watch you for hours. You, trapped in your own home with him. Even tied up you looked so stunningly beautiful.

The feeling of a hand on your cheek caused you to wake up, instinctively trying to move when you felt your wrists being tied and tape covering your mouth.

Steven smiled. "Heyia sleeping beauty."

You looked up at him, trying to push yourself away from him, but he held you in place with his hand on your shoulder.

"Nope, not doin' that, love." He scolds gently.

With a soft sigh, Steven straightened up. "Excuse me if I'm a little excited," he slowly started pulling your covers down "but," he stopped once the covers were at your waist "I'm just so happy to finally have you."

He resumed pulling the covers down, admiring every inch he revealed.

After he removed them fully he threw them carelessly to the side and stepped closer.

"You're so bloody beautiful."

Steven grabbed both your ankles, pulling you closer to him.

"I just couldn't satisfy myself with only looking at you from afar. I need you with me."

His fingers slowly trailed up your leg, he catched your gaze with a sharp look.

"You know what I have to do now, yeah?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

Steven leaned a bit close, his hands now moving to undress you.

"Nod if you know now." He demanded lowly, his eyes flicking down between your legs before up to your face again.

You nodded, your breathing intensified as you realized what he is going to do to you.

Steven smiled softly. "Don't you worry, luv." he reassured, climbing on the bed between your legs.

You immediately started shaking your head, trying desperately to get him off the bed, but Steven restrained you quickly with his hands on your hips.

"No no, don't make a ruckus now."

Steven moved a hand to your between your legs, running his fingers through your lips.

"But let's get you nicely wet first."

You tried squeezing your thighs shut but Steven kneeled right between knees and held your thighs open.

"Don't fight it, luv."

His fingers gently pushed against your cunt, dipping two inside, scissoring them to stretch you out.

"Can you already imagine your wet cunt wrapped around my cock?"

You tried to fight it by arching your back and push your hips away, but each time, he simply pulled you back.

"Stubborn little thing, are you?" Steven smirked.

Despite yourself, your hole slowly started getting wet, and even more wet the longer Steven thrusts his fingers in and out.

His fingers were soon coated in your wetness, and he removed them, moving to undo his pants and pulling his cock out, giving himself a few strokes, then leaned over you, supporting himself with one hand at your side.

"You'll enjoy it like I will." He chuckled, positioning himself and pressing his tip against your wet hole and slowly pushing inside.

"Oh fuck.." He groaned, his hips stuttering as he enjoyed feeling your warm, tight cunt wrap around his cock.

Steven bit his lower lip, "God, you feel amazing." he sighed, his eyes fluttering close, "Mmh, 'm so happy you're finally mine.."

You tried struggling again. Steven opened his eyes, his other hand came up to your cheek to cup it.

"Already starting to love it, hm?" He chuckled sarcastically.

A moan escaped you as Steven hit a spot inside you, making you forget about fighting and your eyes almost rolled back, your hips bucking up.

"Now you like it, yeah?"

Another moan came out of you, Steven decided to fasten his thrusts.

Steven admired your pleasure contorted face, "Fuck, look at you... you love gettin' fucked by me, hm?"

He hit your spot again, earning a needy moan from you.

"Better get used to it, love. I'll be the only one fucking you from now on. You're mine."

Your moans grew desperate, your orgasm was fast approaching, and so was Steven's.

His thrusts became sloppy, his breathing heavy, and with a final thrust, your cunt exploded around his dick, covering him in your juices.

Steven cursed under his breath, loving the feeling of your perfect pussy squeezing his cock. He came just seconds after, filling you up with his hot cum.

He held himself inside you for a moment before pulling out, letting your combined fluids ooze out onto the bed.

Steven tucked his softened cock back in, then stood up and straightened his clothes.

He looked at your exhausted form, loving how fucked out because of him you looked. Steven liked it.

Steven cupped both your cheeks.

"You're coming with me now. If you fight me, I'll have no other choice but to sedate you."

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"You're perfect, love. And I will take such good care of you."

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

Tags:

@nekoyin @steven-grants-world @iolaussharpe-24 @buckyssugarchick @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@krakenkitty @mochiitoby @alexio235 @alexxavicry @silvernight-m

Wanna get tagged?

@libblesdoodles @heavydirtysoulsblog @xcherryxmilkx @yeanika @mooksmouse

@tanks606

[queerism1969]

What’s an NSFW tip you know?

Pee after sex, especially for women.

On date night, eat dinner afterwards.

Guys wash your DICK, BALLS, AND ASSHOLE. If we are down there, we can smell EVERYTHING.

Cold water washes cum off way better than hot water does.

If you are eating her out and you get a weird hair on your tongue, just lick the inside of her leg and it will stick there

If we're using a condom, please be part of the process. Keep the foreplay going while we're busy reaching for it and putting it on, especially on first hookups! It's so sexy when you do it and keeps the passion going instead of taking a small break from it.

If you’re older male and you feel like you’re not as strong in the bonerage department anymore, start working out and take care of that heart. I.e. lots of cardio.

If in doubt, rub one out first. Because post orgasm clarity is real, and can keep you from making horrible mistakes.

If you take 10 minutes to poop at work everyday that's the equivalent of a 40 hour paid vacation a year. (50 minutes a week 50 weeks a year is 2500 minutes. 40 hours is 2400 minutes.) it really puts into context the economic cost of say smoking.

To, Men. WE LIKE IT WHEN YOU MOAN AND MAKE NOISES DURING SEX. PLEASE FUCKING MOAN. DON'T HOLD IT BACK.

If you ever get your zipper stuck on… sensitive areas, don’t panic. Grab some lip balm or Vaseline, rub it on the zipper, and it’ll slide right off without leaving you in tears.

Before going down on someone put some hot/very warm water in your mouth and leave it for a bit before swallowing. The warm sensation of your tongue and mouth feels amazing!

Learn dirty talk. That can make a huge difference. But talk to your partner about it. Cause not everyone likes the same stuff.

Listen carefully. "DON'T STOP!" Is not the same as "DON'T!" "STOP!"

Learn to enjoy masturbating. Don't just rub one out. Take your time, edge, experiment. It will improve sexual performance.

Slow sex is often better

Ask your partner if shes ever had an orgasm. It might seem like a no brainer of a question but check. Any answer that isnt a YES, like "i think so", take it as a no.

Nothing gets peoples attention then good oral play. If you can make them cum with your mouth they are yours

If you're not sexually compatible move on. Seriously. You will be unsatisfied in life. If the sex is good it's 20% of the relationship, if the sex is bad it's 80% of the relationship

Eat her pussy. If you want amazing BJs and bomb ass sex eat her out for 5-10 minutes. Will guarantee a good time.

Suck on the clit don’t just lick it.

Let your partner eat your ass. It’s incredible. Or at least use some vibrations on it while they’re going down on you.

Always shower before you plan to have any form of sex. Nothing worse than toilet paper debris, swamp ass or anything else. You’ll ensure you never get head by not.

Antihistamines also dries out female anatomy! Watch out during allergy season and keep the lube around!

[championofdarkland]

Music

"Well well well, is that you old man? Hahahaha, wow you reeeealllly messed up didn't you? That's ok though! I get to have the last laugh!"

Kusef laughed like a hyena nearby as he seemed to have strained to hear what he could from his cell. He had been locked up for a good length of time in the dungeons. Unlike Kilmot Kusef was overly loud, overly annoying, and an overly foolish yellow dressed mage. He was an evoker, a master of elemental magics and able to cause a lot of damage with his pure magicial power. However, despite that he had added clownish parts to his robe to appear more fun much like Bowser's own clown car and one of the king's sons who also had a clownish motif to them.

Most of Kusef's crimes were damage to places around the kingdom most likely while the other mages worked in the shadows as well as being the one to trap Bowser and Karik within a series of painted worlds. He however, was a fan of Bowser and simply was told to trap Karik. Kusef was a talented magikoopa having a bright future. However, the reason he followed the leader was a simple disatisfaction with his teachers saying he still had more to learn when really he was bored to tears. He had no patience to keep learning other spells except the loudest and most visually "cool" spells.

He hadn't been told of the experiments, or anything like that. He was a simple patsy made to be thrown at a problem. He was barely out of his teen years, whereas Kilmot was a much older magikoopa.

"You heard what I said did you now Kusef? You were intended to be left behind, the leader and the others never cared about..."

"Hahahahaha, please it was just as I always assumed. You old men just fail to see my talents! Always bogging me down with too much talk when a simple fireball can fix everything! Why think about these deep disturbing things? I have the power to destroy what I want when I want! Well, mostly anyone Lord Bowser says...I always wanted to be one of court mages like Kamek! But noooooo...you need those other boring spells to be considered! Soooo, when the leader came around and said "Oh I recognise your talents, follow me instead." I toally knew he was up to something! I was never loyal to his stupid plans! Because Bowser is the best! He's so cool and awesome!"

"Please take me to solitary...that is far better than listening to this fool!"

Kusef kept on talking and talking it was hard to really understand what he was saying anymore. Kilmot looked even more dead inside.

Bowser is having Kamek write down every single one. That was a lot to memorize, not to mention the tortuous methods used on them. He has his arms crossed the whole time, a scowl on his face. He'd growl, but he manages to compose himself. That weird blue lizard lady, Reyna, was watching. He would not show weakness here.

"Hmph, you seriously believe that crap still then? Sure, you say your feelings are true. But you only feel them cause you stupidly still want your "leader's" plan to be truly good and better. They ain't your feelings. You're still just feeling what that guy wants you to. Course, for everything you did, you're still gonna have to pay. So, for now, till we decide what to do with you and the others, you'll be in solitary confinement in the dungeon. And we will make sure you live till we say otherwise. You don't get to weasel your outta this by dying." He says, ordering his guards to detain him and take him away.

Saleos won't say a word otherwise, he can't deny Karik his feelings. He just wishes there was some way all of this could have been avoided.

[qprpbj]

everything that happens in the outsiders - on the greasers side - is foundationally because of poverty. like literally everything comes back to the fact that these kids come from absolutely nothing and have to fight and steal and scavenge and indulge in recklessness and violence to live. nobody in the story is inherently violent or vicious. conflating being violent because of your surroundings & where you were born with violent aggressive tendencies being something you’re just like born with and can’t help as if it’s in your bones or your blood solely because they’re poor ppl who have to fight to survive is demonizes poverty!!!

also like the outsiders was written by a fifteen year old who wrote the bare bones but frankly glosses over SO much - it’s a kids book to be fair - that realistically would’ve been ever present in these kids lives. realistically, people who grow up in circumstances similar to them are born in environments chock full of addiction, self harm, mental illness, physical illness, suicide, murder, neglect, domestic violence, rape, gangs, organized crime, not having any healthy or safe food to eat, food stamps, welfare, not having water at home, utilities being shut off, dangerous unsafe houses, no houses, people selling their bodies for money, child labour, teen pregnancy, foster care, having little or no proper education, no healthy role models, few/unsafe job opportunities, being taken advantage of for your work, being underpaid, deeply foundational systemic racism, not having accessible trustworthy healthcare, issues with the court, cps, biased legal systems. the list literally goes on forever. these are all interconnected symptoms of poverty! and they are not things that are inherent to anybody’s existence!! people who are born into these severe types of situations are never given a chance to thrive and all of the greasers know this. they don’t get the luxury of indulging in most things the middle or upper class kids do, and even then, the curtis brothers are some of the LUCKY ones. they had two loving stable present parents and food on the table and lights on and extra curriculars!!! they get opportunities even others in their own gang don’t get!!!

all of this is literally WHY darry fought as hard as he did to get out and why he came home the minute he knew he needed to, why he gave up his whole future of breaking cycles to stay stuck in the poor life he grew up in, because he’s inherently nurturing and caring, and he fights both generally and for his brothers because he has to, not because he wants to. dally is proud of his record because he doesn’t have anything else to be proud of bc he’s been a victim of circumstance his whole entire life. johnny knows he’s never gonna be able to fight hard enough to get out of the cycle he was born into. & the greasers being as cavalier as they are about these kind of things happens when people are so desensitized that they don’t notice it occurring around them anymore, and generally the gang sticks to their own and tries not to cause shit with other people. they don’t fight because they want to, they fight out of necessity. even darry. even dally!!!! & i’d be remiss to mention that breaking poverty cycles and intergenerational trauma and abuse when you’re given nothing to work with is truly one of the toughest things someone can do for themselves

tbh idek where i was even going with all this but i just rly want ppl to know that as obvious as it all might sound these are very very real things and not just like book fiction trauma porn plots nor do people wrapped up in systemic issues like these make them inherently bad or inherently violent or inherently aggressive. both these kids and real life people deserve research and care and careful choices of words and observing internal biases and to be talked about, but talked about correctly!!!

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

★ synopsis: you're not just friends, but you're not more than that either. he's the epitome of unreadable and unavailable, leaving you confused, hurt, and lost.

★ character: xavier

★ cw: first person pov, really angsty, like REALLY angsty (i chose violence my bad), college au, situationship plot

★ word count: 4.3k

★ a/n: before i say anything im so sorry. like i was not expecting it to be this angsty but then it was and...well i couldn't stop it. i will for sure write a happy ending for this if someone would like that!! i think xavier would be a situationship final boss cause bro cannot manage his feelings. also can you tell i really like college au's... anyways, enjoy!!

His hands rest on the curve of my waist, firm and possessive, as if his fingers might weave through my ribs and anchor themselves there. His touch lingers with a quiet desperation, a reminder of everything we’ve shared. Once you’ve seen so much of someone, their fears, their desires, the way their eyes light up in the smallest moments—walking away feels like tearing apart something sacred, like committing a sin against the universe itself.

I stare at his sleeping face. I could protect him, my heart a sanctuary warm enough for him to find peace. He’d never have to wander again, never ever need to leave. The softness of his skin could soothe the ache buried deep within me, erasing the sickness with a quiet, tender touch.

He has my heart trapped like a bird.

Part of me wonders if he knows how he’s holding me, if he finds comfort within his slumber and dreams with my body pressed against his. Or if he’ll stir and realize, turning away and leaving me to stare at the muscles in his back that flex as he sleeps.

I trace circles onto his bicep, like the circles he runs around us.

I had met Xavier a little over a year ago, he was a friend of a friend, and we met at a small house party that a few mutuals of ours had thrown. He was like a star, shining so brightly in the room it drowned out everyone else. He was standing in a corner talking to Jeremiah, a good friend of mine that I shared some classes with. The way Xavier shyly smiled at me when Jeremiah introduced us made my heart feel like King Arthur’s sword, and someone had finally managed to capture it.

We talked the rest of the night, never leaving that spot in the corner. I paid no mind to anyone else I knew in that house, all that mattered was the beautiful cosmic boy I was encountering.

He found me again in the library a few weeks later, lightly tapping my shoulder and asking if he could study with me. Xavier was an astronomy major, ever so fitting for the star-boy who sparkled like constellations no matter where he went. The way his face lit up when asked about space was a vision I wanted to replay behind my eyelids every time I slept.

Xavier quickly became one of my best friends, and every second I spent with him was a second closer to my demise.

With him, I had tunnel vision. It didn’t matter how many guys my friends tried to set me up with, none of them were Xavier.

He was all I ever wanted.

I had never wanted anything as bad as I wanted Xavier. In my eyes he hung the moon and the stars. My love for him was an insatiable hunger that only he could cure; if he was Hades I would’ve taken that pomegranate from his tree, sacrificing my life to spend the rest of my time in hell just so I could spend eternity with him. I’d put myself on display for him so he can play God on judgement day, I’d let him carve his name into me so I’d remember what to say, I’d do anything he asked.

He’s the serpent and I’m Eve.

Xavier was hard to read, it was like trying to understand the plot of a book in pig latin. One moment he’s sitting so close to me I can smell his shampoo, looking me in my eyes and smiling so widely I thought his cheeks would hurt, as he twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. He’ll cut me off mid sentence and tell me I look beautiful, and watch me as if I’m a movie he’s been waiting years to see.

The next moment? I don’t see him for days; I don’t get texts, no photos and complaints about his astronomy homework, no little alien gifs, no hellos or goodbyes. He disappears without a trace, and the only proof I have that he ever existed is the ache in my heart when I realize he’s pulling away again.

I’ve never gotten anything I’ve ever wanted, but once, I got close. Xavier had showed up at my dorm on a storming Saturday night at 1 AM like a sopping wet dog in the hallway, his first appearance in a week. Slurring his speech, blubbering about how Jeremiah and their friends dragged him out to the bars.

“M’sorry I just showed up, I wanted to see you…Just see you…”

Drunk off his ass, the pity for him overcame my anger. I gave him a change of his own clothes, hoodies and sweatpants I had borrowed and never gave back, the only pieces I had of him when he would turn into a ghost again.

Xavier watched me as I maneuvered around the room, grabbing him a glass of water, his eyes bleary and lips mumbling breathless words I couldn’t catch.

“Hey.”

I turned to look at him, his cheeks and ears red from the alcohol. He was sprawled out on my bed shirtless after refusing the hoodie, declaring the room was too hot. Xavier gestured for me to come closer, and as I approached the bed, he yanked my wrist down causing me to collapse onto his bare chest. His half-lidded eyes scanned my face, hand snaking up my waist.

“Is this okay?” He said through breathless kisses on my shoulder. Holding my body very still, I thought if I moved I may wake up.

“Xavier, you’re drunk.” I whispered, my words betraying my thoughts. He stilled, and I internally punched myself. Pulling back far enough I could see his eyes again, he smiled and placed a kiss on my palm. I couldn’t help but smile back, as my heart lurched out of my chest and into his hands for good. Xavier slowly and awkwardly flipped me onto my back, stumbling a bit through his inebriation. He mumbled words of adoration, planting kisses that burned like the fire of a star all over my face and skin.

“Perfect… So perfect… You’re like Venus, so full of love… Beautiful girl…”

Xavier kissed me like I was broken and he was thread, trying to sew me back together. The moment was holy, his heart singing to mine like a psalm. I memorized the movement of his lips against mine, cherishing the taste of cheap beer on his tongue.

“I love you.”

He fell asleep next to me, as I stayed awake staring at the ceiling, wondering what this meant for us.

Nothing, I suppose.

Xavier never mentioned it, and I never felt the courage to bring it up. It was only a fleeting moment, but it stuck with me like a plague, hanging over my head. It left the soft moments with him more confusing, the compliments more intimate, the feelings more frustrating.

I stare at him asleep holding me, face gentle through dreams, and I want to cry. Falling asleep next to me was nothing new, crashing in my dorm after movie nights or study dates. ‘No it’s okay, don’t sleep on the floor. We can just share the bed.’

I am a ticking time bomb, and I’m going to explode.

My heart is trapped like a bird.

-

“Honestly, I really think you should just confront him,” Tara flips through the pages of her textbook, “it’s not getting you anywhere not knowing what he thinks.”

I throw my face in my hands, letting out a groan and tangling my fingers in my hair, “It’s not that easy. What am I gonna say? ‘Hey, we kissed once so what are we?’ Do you know how crazy that sounds!”

“You forgot the part, ‘you also spend the night in my bed a lot’ or, ‘you told me you loved me’.”

“Friends do and say stuff like that all the time!” Shuddering at the thought of rejection, I hold up a finger to silence Tara, “Plus I’m not sure I even want to know. I think staying in the dark is better for everyone.”

She rolls her eyes, slamming the textbook closed, “Right. Okay, fine, that’s fine. Just quit complaining, I’m gonna tear my hair out.” Walking over, she places a kiss to the top of my head, “You know I love you, but I’m gonna kill both of you if I have to hear about it one more time.”

Tara leaves for class, and I’m left alone in the library with my thoughts and an exam to study for. I feel the pads of Xavier’s fingertips against my skin leftover from last night, and the feeling of emptiness when I woke up and he was gone. No text saying he had left for class, just radio silence and his body imprinted in my sheets. It’s moments like this, when I’m convinced I’ve got him right outside my grasp, he’d fall back out of reach.

I’m about to put on my headphones and tune the world out, when I hear a man's voice.

“Are you studying for the exam?”

I look up, and I see the boy who sits next to me in my stats class, Rafayel. His hair is a mess, and his black sweater has a few paint stains on them. I assume he’s just come from the studio, as his satchel is hanging loosely over his shoulder, his portfolio book sticking out. Rafayel’s an art major and never fails to complain the whole time about how the class is required for him, but he’s ‘never even gonna use this stuff’.

I huff, staring at my laptop screen, “Yeah, trying to at least.”

Rafayel slips into the seat Tara was just in, throwing his satchel on the floor beside him, “Oh good, you can help me then!”

I'm grateful for the distraction, as Rafayel is a sweet guy and a good break from the chronic thoughts of Xavier. His glances at me in class while I try to work on a concept with him don’t go unnoticed, or the way he doodles me on the corner of his paper, flashing me a grin when I point to the drawings. He would be so perfect, the artsy goof who showers me in attention, clingy, comedic and kind;

But he’s not Xavier.

“How am I supposed to help you with this if you’re busy drawing?” I tap his sketchbook with my pen. Rafayel looks up from his work with a frown, “I’m getting bored!”

He snatches my pen from my hand to stop my tapping, “Hey, why don’t we go to the cafe for a quick break? My brain could use it.”

“You’ve been studying for fifteen minutes.”

“So? You’re supposed to take breaks after twenty minutes, it’s been like, scientifically proven or whatever.”

He stares at me with a big smile, and I know I can’t say no to him. Literally, I wouldn’t be allowed.

When we got to the cafe, the place was packed and I internally groaned. Looking around the bustling coffee shop, it was uncomfortable just how busy it was. Waiting in line practically squished next to Rafayel, I rested my head on his shoulder as I had done many times in class before. He draped his arm around my shoulder, going on about how one of his professors gave him a bad grade on a painting because he used the wrong shade of blue. I thought about how nice it would be to stand like this with Xavier, but I never felt as if I could get close enough to try.

Trying to shake off the thoughts about him, I thought about Rafayel’s arm around me. The way his finger would poke my shoulder as he talked to put emphasis on his words, or the way his bicep flexed on the back of my neck as he moved. It was comforting in a way, secure. It was protective. Safe.

“Oh my God, I hate that dude.” Rafayel scoffs, looking at a table in the corner. Following his eyes, I caught a glimpse of tousled platinum hair. Meeting his blue eyes, my breath hitched in my chest, body freezing against Rafayel. I couldn’t read a single ounce of emotion on his face, just feeling his stare bore into me.

My first instinct wanted to rip away from Rafayel, let Xavier know I was still his. Yet-

I’m not. I’m not his, and he’s not mine.

I remember the feeling of defeat this morning when I woke up, body tired from staying up and watching the rise and fall of his chest, mind exhausted from the push and pull, chasing after him and never quite catching up.

Leaning farther into the boy beside me, I look away from Xavier and look up at Rafayel.

After all, the key to moving on is finding someone new.

“Which one?” I ask him, not sure if he’s referring to anyone else at that table. It was a group of Xaviers friends, people I had met briefly.

“The blonde one, he’s in one of my gen ed classes and he’s a total prick.” Rafayel stares back at Xavier, and I try to avoid his piercing eyes, focusing on picking at a piece of lint on Rafayels sweater.

“Oh, yeah. I know him.” I don’t want him to be introduced to that part of my world. Rafayel is pure, untainted by the chaos. I didn’t want to drag him into the hurricane.

-

After that, I didn’t hear from Xavier for a while. Though his silence wasn’t uncommon, I couldn’t help but think this time it may have been provoked by the moment in the cafe. I saw him around campus a few times, in his usual spots, but when he’d notice me he’d just look away.

Saying it hurt would be an understatement.

I started seeing Rafayel more to fill the void that Xavier was leaving behind. Every tear Xavier had ripped into my heart and soul, Rafayel was taking bandaids and patching them up. While it was nice, it wasn’t a permanent solution to the wounds.

I felt guilty, like I was using him, doing the same thing to Rafayel that Xavier was doing to me. Though, despite whatever was happening, Rafayel was content. I don’t think he minded the situation I had imposed. From little dates to holding hands, to kisses on my cheek when he’d drop me off at my dorm, I was getting the attention I craved and Rafayel had someone to keep him company. It’s like we had this silent, mutual agreement that whatever was happening was okay, and this is all it had to be.

Rafayel never knew about Xavier, and I would never tell him.

The incident at the cafe was the first, but not the only time Xavier saw us together. Whether it was the library studying, or the student union building, Xavier would see us and almost always stare. Rafayel always had comments to make about it too, muttering things under his breath about him being a creepy stalker.

I was sitting on the floor of my dorm with Rafayel, scrolling aimlessly on my phone as he sketched the fake plants I had sitting on my desk. My phone started to blow up with everyone texting in our group chat, something about a party happening this weekend.

Tara: Please tell me you guys are gonna be there!

Jeremiah: i have to go, one of my friends is in the frat and he’ll kill me if i don’t

Tara: Okay that's 2 of us! Who else???

“Who’s texting you so much?” Rafayel says, clearly annoyed by my phone's insistent text tone going off.

“This group chat I’m in with my friends,” I sit my phone down, “there's a party this weekend and they’re trying to get everyone to go.”

“Are you going to?”

“I dunno, are you?”

Rafayel laughs, “You know better than anyone I couldn’t be caught dead at one of those.” He puts his sketchbook aside, grabbing my hand, “You should go though, you don’t really do much besides go to class and see me, and as much as I'm happy with the attention, this is a really sad look for you.”

I pull my hand away, offended, “I am not sad!”

“Then prove it, go to the party.”

“I’m pretty sure this is peer pressure, hazing even.”

“That’s most definitely not hazing.” Rafayel picks his sketchbook back up, going back to his drawing with a smug look on his face.

I text back in the groupchat, upset that I agree with Rafayel. Ever since I started hanging out with him and Xavier started giving me the full blown silent treatment, I haven’t really gone out much. I see Tara here and there for lunch or a quick study session, but it’s been a while since I’ve taken the time to do something fun.

Me: yea i’ll be there, lmk what time

Tara: OMG YAY!!!! I’ll send you the details

Xavier: I’ll see U guys there

Seeing Xavier text that he was going to be in attendance sent a lightning bolt of anxiety through my chest.

This was the longest we had gone without talking. Usually, his moments of silence only lasted a few weeks at most. With due time he’d come back with a post he sent or ask me to hang out, announcing his presence and waltzing back into my life; and I'd let him in.

Every. Single. Time.

The distance he created between us this time around made me anxious to face him the upcoming weekend. Would he say hi? Ask how I was? Would he look right through me like so many times before?

After Rafayel left, I sat in bed cocooned in one of Xavier's hoodies he had left behind, watching the stars through my window. I thought maybe, if I stared hard enough, they could make a constellation of his face.

-

Friday rolled around faster than I had hoped. Per Tara’s request, we showed up fashionably late, so the old beat up house was packed by the time we arrived. It was the first time in months I had put myself together, doing my hair and makeup. Taking a couple shots of whatever Tara had given me, I was feeling mildly prepared for the night ahead.

Walking in, my hand gripped hers tightly as she maneuvered gracefully through the crowd. Grabbing a drink from the makeshift bar, I cracked open the can and started chugging. I was going to need as much alcohol as I could to get me through this night. We found a couple girls that we knew, chatting loudly over the music, as I pounded back a few more drinks.

Before I knew it, the man I was dreading seeing the most appeared beside Tara with Jeremiah.

“Ladies!” Jeremiah shouted, wrapping his arms around Tara and I. Xavier’s eyes could have burned a hole through my skull with the intensity that he stared at me. Internally I was at war with myself, half wanting to shrink away because of how small his look made me feel, but also feeling powerful thanks to the liquor coursing through my veins and the hot outfit I had on.

One voice on my shoulder screamed, “Get out of here! Go home! Never show your face again!” While the other danced around, “You’re such a sexy bitch, show him what he’s missing!”

I chugged another drink.

“Wait- Tara, I want you to meet one of my friends, come with me.” Jeremiah gestured for Tara to follow him, and I flashed her a panicked look. She shrugged, squeezing my hand before following behind Jeremiah.

I stood alone with Xavier, the rest of the group disbursing where it just left us.

“I’m gonna get a drink, come on.”

I looked at him, “What?”

“I’m gonna go get a drink? Let's go.” He raised an eyebrow at me, like I asked a stupid question.

“Okay, but why do I have to come with you?”

“Because I’m not leaving you all by yourself-” Xavier pressed two fingers to his temple, “nevermind it’s fine I don’t need another one.”

“I was just asking-”

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He cut me off, his question catching me off guard.

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you having trouble understanding tonight or something? How much have you had to drink?” His words were venom, and I was appalled. Not once had he ever spoken to me this way, not even in arguments.

“I just don’t know who you’re fucking talking about, my bad.” I spat back at him.

“The guy who’s always up your ass, where is he tonight?”

I laughed, shocked, “You mean Rafayel? He is not my boyfriend.” I wasn’t sure if it was the liquor or his jealousy, but his attitude was a loaded gun.

“Well I couldn’t tell, seeing as how you both practically eye fuck wherever you go.”

Stunned, my jaw dropped. His eyes softened, and I could tell he knew he hit a nerve. With the blaring music in my ears, and the alcohol coursing through my veins, I was suddenly convinced that if I didn’t get out of that house I was going to fall apart to pieces.

“I don’t have to take this.” I shoved past him, pushing my way through the crowd and out the front door, until the cold air hit my face.

Xavier called out my name from behind, but I continued walking down the sidewalk. I wanted to be so far from that party, from him, that I thought I may just walk back to my hometown and away from this stupid place; to somewhere he didn’t exist anymore.

Calling my name again, he caught up, grabbing me by my shoulder. His face was switching through emotions every second, and I was getting whiplash.

“What the hell is your problem!” I shouted at him, tears threatening to spill, welling up in the corner of my eyes.

“Hey, wait-” His hand that was on my shoulder went to my cheek, and I jerked away.

“No, you don’t get to do that anymore, we’re done playing that game. I give up!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You- This, us! You kiss me, you tell me I’m beautiful, you tell me you love me, you sleep in my bed and I’m in your arms, then you don’t text me for weeks! You don’t acknowledge anything you do, and I don’t know what any of it means,” I don’t realize I’m crying until I taste the salt in my mouth, “You’re so confusing and I don’t know what’s happening, and it hurts so fucking bad and you don’t even care.”

Xavier stands there dumbfounded, my vision blurry and spinning. I think I might throw up, and I’m not sure if it’s from the situation or the liquor.

“Then you have the audacity to be mean to me over some guy that I’m friends with,” I start to sob, my voice becoming weak and small, “you don’t get to do that, you have no right.”

He doesn’t move, and I stop talking. The only sound between us is my quiet crying and hiccups, mixed with the faint music from the party down the block. He says my name, and I barely hear it over the roar of my own ears.

“You’re my best friend…” He whispers.

The words cut through me like a knife, and I think if I look down I’ll see I’ve been gutted. If you could die from a broken heart, I’d already be six feet under. I swallow thickly, and nod. His words were enough, it told me everything I needed to know.

“Can I walk you home?” He asks.

I shake my head.

I started walking down the sidewalk.

He didn't follow.

When he was out of sight, I sat down on the curb and broke down again. Everything I had felt over the past year of knowing him came out at once, my body ejecting all of it. I cursed him, his name, his future wife and family. I prayed that he was destined to stay up at night, regretting that the woman asleep next to him isn’t me. Distraught, because I believe I myself am cursed to love him forever.

I called Rafayel, and asked him to pick me up. I threw up in someone's yard before he did, and when I finally got back home I closed my curtains and locked my window, hiding under my blankets; convinced the stars in the sky were out to get me. I never wanted to see them again, I’d avoid going outside at night for eternity if it meant I never had to face a reminder of him and his devastating beauty.

The next morning, I blocked him.

Well, I blocked him on all social media, even the ones we didn’t use; but I didn’t block his number. For emergency purposes, I thought.

Or I guess for the slim chance he came back; haunted by regret, choking on apologies, and falling to his knees to plead for forgiveness. I told my friends I was finished with him, swore it with conviction, but I’m starting to think those words were as empty as his own promises.

I won't text him first, I’ll just wait.

I’d wait until he misses my laugh, the sound of my voice, or the songs I’d sing to him as he fell asleep, my fingers through his hair.

I won’t text him, but I won’t shut him out entirely. I’ll close the door behind me, but I won’t lock it, not completely. I won’t hand him the key, but maybe I’ll leave behind a clue, something subtle, something only he’d recognize. Just in case he decides to come back, he’ll know where to start searching, know there’s still a way in, even if I pretend there isn’t.

I’d keep the house behind the door clean, buy a welcome mat, and even build a porch.

Just in case;

But he never called.

(divider by cafekitsune)

[bigfan-fanfic]

Some Type of Way (Male!Reader x Joel Miller)

Sarah smirks at her father as the man helps her gather her overnight bag for the sleepover.

"Wipe that look off your face it or it'll stay like that." Joel nudges her shoulder playfully. "What are you even smirking about?"

"Someone has a daaaaaaa-aaaaate."

"Smart mouth."

"Buy my silence."

"I'm letting you go on this sleepover, aren't I?"

"Yeah, cause you have a daaaaaa-"

He tugs her out of the kitchen by her backpack. "All right, I have a date. Happy?"

When she finally gets to plant her feet, she looks up at him. "Are you? I mean... how many dates is this? Have you two-"

Joel raises an eyebrow. "Do you really wanna ask that question, baby girl?"

"Ew. No, never mind." she shudders. "But still... you like him a lot."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Dad?"

The car pulls up. She has to go, but he can tell this is important. "Yeah, baby girl?"

"I like him too." she says softly.

Joel hugs her tight for a moment and they share it together. All the things they don't say, all the hopes they have. Then she smirks again.

"Say hi to him for me."

"Will do. Now you call me if anything happens. I got you that dang cell phone for emergencies."

"Yeah, Dad!"

She breezes off, and Joel stands on the porch, distracted, until you pull up.

He holds you tight when you hurl yourself into his arms, pulling you inside, closing the door on the world so he can just experience you.

Joel's life is pretty stressful. Being a single dad, dealing with his less-than-steady carpenter work, and trying to muddle through. But you are always his oasis, it seems.

He wants to give the people he loves everything, and he hates that he sometimes can't give them all he thinks they deserve.

But you don't ask for much, really. No matter how many "stay-in" dates with crappy spaghetti with store-bought sauce he makes, you don't ask to go out for fancier meals. Sometimes you even take him out.

Sarah likes you too - you relate to her well, even if you try to not get involved in her raising, knowing Joel might take offense.

He feels some type of way about you. And though you both know he's head over heels for you, you've never rushed him to say it.

Joel has always been uneasy about owing people. But with you, the emotion of gratitude is something powerful.

"I thought we would cook together this time, so I brought some stuff." you grin, and he kisses the top of your head.

"And here I thought I'd be your personal chef tonight. What, you don't like my spaghetti?"

You wink. "I love your spaghetti. But I think you'll love my garlic bread more."

When you first started dating, Joel was rigid in trying to maintain the role he thought he had to play. Provider and rock, masculine and constantly steady.

But your ease and the comfort you bring to him has allowed him to soften, to show you his true self, the one that usually only comes out around Sarah.

He's a jokester, with a wry and sarcastic wit, but also happy to follow along and find something to enjoy or find something humorous in any situation.

He puts on some music from an old CD and you two dance with each other as you cook and bake the garlic bread.

"I'll handle the cleanup. So we don't have to worry about it in the morning." you offer, and Joel winks.

"You mean I ain't kicking you out right after tonight?" he teases, and you smack him in the gut. "Fine, fine, but you let me cook breakfast for you."

"Oh, you drive a hard bargain, sir. But I guess I'll allow it. Besides, I got the whole weekend off, so I can stay over if you want."

Joel comes over, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the back of your neck. "Do you have to leave?"

He's asked things like this before, flirting and romantic, but you sense something... more, this time.

"Well... my lease will be up in a couple of months."

He stiffens, recognizing the unsaid offer, and then he hugs you closer. "I'll have to talk to Sarah about it, but... how would you feel about moving in here?"

"Are you sure, Joel? I know you're starting to save up for your startup and-"

"I want this. You. I want to wake up with you and take you to bed. I think I wanna share my life with you. Fully."

There's a moment you turn and kiss him where he knows he should say it, but he just can't, yet. He's far too cynical and far too wounded to say it without knowing for sure.

But ironically, the fact that you don't push is bringing him to that conclusion anyway. "You make me feel some type of way, Joel Miller."

He kisses you back, barely resisting the urge to pick you up and carry you off right then. "So do you, babe. So do you."

He'll tell you. Soon enough. After all, you two will have all the time in the world...