#could only possibly be enjoyed by a small handful of people? (as opposed to writing something more universal or even

[suddencolds]

In a world where there are few reasons to get out of bed sometimes, your fics deliver reasons! No joke!! My shitty day was MADE when I saw a new Y + V fic. You’re like no other. Quality fic that has me invested with a sprinkling of snz. Nothing better in the world than that

Sending you the warmest of hugs, anon 🥹 I'm really glad my writing can bring you happiness!! I definitely have been on the other end of like, using media/fic as an outlet when life felt otherwise bleak 😭 so I'm really honored that Y + V can give you that experience. Thank you for your kind words :') ❤️

[munsonsmixtapes]

lmao i’m a lil embarrassed for asking but i can’t help it now that i saw you said to send in a request. can we have more virgin!eddie x experienced!reader? maybe she’s teaching him how to eat her out properly and she’s surprised by how into he is and how eager he is to please? with some cute puppy eddie fluff pleeeease 😇 lol doesn’t have to be this at all tbh, just anything with that pairing fr 😅

No need to be embarrassed, lovely! I absolutely love this request and pairing! I was actually thinking about writing more about them, if people are interested!

virgin!Eddie x experienced!reader

cw: oral (f receiving)

This is a continuation of this post!

After your first time with Eddie, you had made it a very regular thing. It didn’t matter whose place you ended up at, but you’d always end up in bed together. You’d be tangled up in the sheets either until the early morning or until you couldn’t walk, whichever came first.

And there was never any foreplay or much kissing involved either. You’d just get straight into the act, desperate to have Eddie’s dick inside you every single time. And you were addicted to the feeling, loving how confident he was becoming after you had been sleeping together for a while.

He was now shameless about the noises he made and it almost seemed like he was making them supper loud because he knew just how wet it always made you. He was getting really good, almost better than you which you didn’t think was possible.

There was something about being with him that felt so different from being with anyone else. He actually seemed to want to enjoy his time with you as opposed to the others who were just looking to take whatever it was that they wanted from you. Eddie was actually concerned about making you feel good and wanted to be sure that you were enjoying it just as much as him.

You and Eddie were in your bed for the third time that week and but found yourselves only making out. No clothes had been removed and the two of you seemed pretty content with just kissing while sensual music played in the background.

His lips moved with yours and your mind started to wonder what his mouth would feel like on your cunt. You knew he hadn’t eaten anyone out, but maybe you could have taught him. Maybe if he told him exactly what to do, he’d be able to do it, making you feel so much pleasure.

You pulled away from him and looked at his face. His pupils were blown and his lips were pink and swollen from all the kisses you had shared. He was so adorable that it hurt with his big brown eyes that were always filled with so much love and his hair that was always messy even after he had just brushed it.

“I did something wrong, didn’t I?” He was always asking that and it made you feel bad that that was always a thought in the back of his head. Even if he did do something “wrong” you would tell him nicely and help him correct it.

“No, no,” you shook your head and moved your hand up to wrap one of his curls around your finger, twirling it around the digit. “I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to…eat me out?”

Eddie nodded his head vigorously and his eyes went wide. He was definitely more up for it than you had anticipated and that made you feel better about the whole thing.

“I can definitely do that,” he nodded again. “But…I don’t know how.”

“I could coach you through it,” you told him, a small smile kicked up at the corner of his mouth.

“You’d do that?” Of course you would have.

“Mhm,” you replied. “Do you want to?” He wanted nothing more and was getting so hard thinking about having his head between your thighs.

“So bad, baby,” his hands squeezed your hips. “You have no idea.”

You both sat up and Eddie got off of you, unsure where to place himself and you took him by the hands, wanting to have a discussion before anything started. You wanted to make sure that he knew that he could back out at any point and that he didn’t have to do it just to please you if he wasn’t enjoying it.

He nodded along as you spoke, taking in every single word as if they were very important to him. All of the talks you had had about consent were just as important to him to listen as they were to you to speak them.

“Alright, um, you’re going to want to get on your knees at the foot of the bed.” He listened and quickly got off the bed and lowered himself to his knees on the rug underneath him. You followed and placed yourself in front of him and took him by the hands.

You guided them up to the band of your panties and he slowly pulled them down your legs before setting them on the floor. He then slowly rested his hands on your knees and spread your legs, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time to make sure that it was okay. His eyes then drifted to your sopping wet pussy and you could see his cheeks blush.

“You’re soaked,” he let out a chuckle.

“Mhm,” you bit your bottom lip. “And it’s all for you, baby.” His cheeks flushed even more and you thought it was funny that you could make him do that just form a little comment. “Whenever you’re ready, drape a leg over each shoulder.

He did the action so quickly so you could tell that he was eager to get to it. He had definitely wanted it just as much as you did and that made you even more wet.

“Now when you get your face into it, use your tongue and lick back and forth to start.” He buried his face into your pussy and you let out a gasp as his nose brushed the sensitive skin.

He licked back and forth and you clutched the blanket underneath you as pleasure rolled through you. He kept going and you told him to suck on the spot which he did, eliciting a moan from you. He licked and sucked and you gripped the blanket even harder as your back arched in euphoria.

“You taste so good,” he told you before diving back in and you felt his teeth graze the sensitive spot, wondering where the hell he had learned that, but before you could ask, another moan fell from your lips.

“Sh-shit, Eddie.”

“You like that?” He laughed, loving that he was able to make you come undone for a change.

“Fuck, do that again.” He was quick to oblige and shoved his face back into your cunt, grazing it with his teeth once more and you reached your climax, letting out what Eddie thought was the loudest moan he had ever heard and was eager to hear it again.

“Could eat you all night, darling. Swear to god. Taste so fucking good.” He then replaced his teeth with his tongue, shoving as much of the muscle as he could inside of you and your back arched again as your knees pressed against his head.

Your moans has been muffled by your knees, but he could still hear them clearly as he continued to lick, suck, and graze it with his teeth. You had been eaten out more time than you could count, but this one was definitely the best out of them all. First off, he seemed so eager to please you, wanting to make you feel good. And he also loved the way you tasted, making sure to let you know while others didn’t seem to care enough to.

That was the difference. Eddie cared. He cared so much and always felt the need to tell you how much he was enjoying himself while making sure that you felt the same. It was all so important to him and that made you feel special even though you knew he would have done the same for anyone else.

Eddie removed his face from your cunt and you sat up, your breathing still labored as you looked down at him. You noticed slick dripping from his chin and just as you were about to let him know, he made direct eye contact with you and ran his tongue along his chin, getting every last drop before pulling his tongue back into his mouth.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you told him and pushed him to the ground before pressing your lips to his in a bruising kiss before licking into his mouth. “And by the way, you can eat me out anytime you want.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he grinned and you pulled him into another kiss, neither of you bothering to get back into the bed as you removed your clothes for the first fuck of the night, knowing that Eddie could please you just as much as you pleased him.

[harrywritingsbyme]

I Just Called To Say I Love You

Prompt: You don’t like talking on the phone, but Harry always calls you instead of texting. Harry later admits it’s because he just wants to hear your voice.

A/N: I may be a lil rusty so don’t judge me…I just wanted to write a cute ’n cliche lil something to post on here…I’m in my soft girlie era. Hopefully, there’s more to come soon. Hope u enjoy, love y’all🫶🏾

You hated talking on the phone. Anytime you had to take a phone call, whether it be in your personal life or at work, you had to give yourself a mini pep-talk to make it through. Of all methods of communication, you highly preferred to send an email or text message as opposed to taking phone calls. Phone calls that at times, could be long and drawn out. In your eyes, the only upside to talking on the phone was that you could visibly express your disinterest as opposed to talking to someone in person and keeping your disinterest internal.

However, while you hated talking on the phone, there was a small handful of people who had a free pass to call. You even went as far as to make a separate ringtone for them so that you could differentiate their welcome call from the unwelcome ones. 

One of the people you designated as a welcomed caller was your boyfriend Harry. And boy did he take his phone call free-pass seriously.

Because his work at times took him away from home and you, Harry was diligent at calling you up when he couldn’t be with you physically. But even when he wasn’t away for work he always made it a point to call you and just check in. And Harry wasn’t overbearing with it and just dialed your number at any chance. It was almost as if he could sense when a conversation with you was needed. Whether it be because you were on the verge of losing it and not feeling the greatest, or because you were feeling great and needed to share that great energy with someone else. And it worked the same way with you. When he needed to vent or share some of the good vibes in his life you were more than willing to call or pick up.

Sometimes though, the calls would have no rhyme or reason to them. Like today, you weren’t having the best day, but you weren’t having the worst day either. You were just getting through the day until it was time to drop everything and go home. Towards the middle of the day, your phone lights up with Harry’s photo and sounds off with the ringtone you’d set just for him. Instead of mentally preparing yourself for the phone conversation ahead, you readily put in your earbuds and pick up the call.

“Helloooo” Harry sings, dragging out the ‘o’ for as long as he possibly could.

“Helloooo to you too” You quietly laugh, mimicking his greeting. “How can I be of assistance to you today?”

“No assistance needed, I just wanted to hear your voice.” Harry sappily replies. You could practically hear his dopey smile through the phone as he spoke. But at the end of the day, that’s all Harry wanted whenever he picked up the phone to call you. He just wanted to hear your voice.

“Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.” You whisper, the seemingly permanent smile that had been on your face since picking up the phone only widened.

“You could never disappoint me, love.” Harry definitively responds. Which only made you smile even harder and solidify an ache in your cheeks in a little while.

For the next 15 or so minutes you and Harry manage to cover a range of topics that somehow come together to form a coherent and flowing conversation. In this time, not only were you fighting to hold your giggles in you were also playing the role of lookout just in case your boss decided to randomly appear when you were supposed to be working. It was a common pattern for your happiness to summon him and ruin everything. But that was a conversation for another time.

Unfortunately for you though, you had to get back to work. Which meant that the little happiness bubble that you were in with Harry had to be popped.

“Well, I’m gonna let you go now, don’t wanna keep you from your work” Harry states when you two have a lull in the conversation, not wanting to steal any more of your time.

“No, keep me from it! Please?!” You jokingly plead, not wanting your happiness bubble to pop quite yet. 

“How about this, you make it through the last couple of hours there and then come over to my place and I’ll cook you some of the best dinner you’ve ever had.” Harry barters.

“You may just have yourself a deal, Mr.Styles.” You agree, looking forward to the end of the workday even more now that you had plans with your boyfriend.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it.” He hums, already thinking up a menu just for you. “Oh! Also, guess what.” Harry adds.

“What?” You curiously ask, wanting to hear the news.

“I love you.” He simply replies with the utmost sincerity. “That’s the main reason why I called you. To hear your voice, and to tell you that I love you.”

“I love you too. And I’ll see you later.” By the time you hung up, you were a smiling maniac and a complete puddle of yourself at your desk. But on the plus side, you were ready to power through the next couple of hours at your desk.

While you weren’t big on phone calls if there was one that you were always going to answer. It was Harry’s.

Masterlist

[bluehourbucky]

Nightmare

pairing: postjail!Spencer Reid x f!reader

summary: spencer is scared that he'll lose you so he needs a bit of loving <3

warings: violence/ mentions of kidnapping / mild spoilers for s8 and s12 / fingering /unprotected sex

a/n: first time writing for my first love <3 Genuinely had a crush on Spencer before I knew what a crush was duhdhdbd

sorry about the smut I'm still very new to writing it😅 I don't think I'm very good at it but I'm trying!

masterlist

_________________________________________

Spencer is in a dark hallway, there's only one way he could go, and that's straight ahead. The small copper door stand there at the end, red light puring out of the cracks. The only sound he can hear is his own steps on the wooden floor. He pulls out his gun and starts walking towards them, as he gets closer, he can hear the muffled sound of two maybe three people.

Spencer is at the door and he slowly pushes them, he again puts up his gun and walks in.

This isn't what he expected to see.

"Oh good. Finally joining us Spency, we're just starting to have real fun."

Spencer is horrified to see you straped in a chair, blood driving down your temple, red lines on your wrists from being tied up, your tears falling down your cheek. Cat stands behind you, caressing your arms while you're squirming, trying to get away.

"Leave her alone. This is about us."

Cat laughs maniacally.

"Not anymore. She's pretty, and very special huh, enough to get little Spencey to finally put down his walls." Cat licks your tears and Spencer tries not to gag he knows absolutely how uncomfortable that is.

"Baby I'm gonna get you out of here, I promise."

"Oh that's cute. But I don't think so not until you give me what I want. Why don't we play a game."

Cat smirks sitting down in your lap and taking off the tape that covered your mouth.

"Spencer, no. Don't play her gam-"

Cat puts a hand over your mouth.

"Ah shut it. So what do you say Spency, one game and I let her leave. I do recommend that you do especially when she's in such a delicate state."

Spencer looks at Cat trying to find the lie in her eyes but there's none, then he looks at you silently asking if what Cat is insinuating is true.

You nod slightly, pulling as far away from Cat as you possibly could.

Spencers heart dropped at that moment.

"Okay."

After hours and hours of playing Cats game he was done.

"Alright that's it. I'm done."

Cat laughs and points a gun at you.

"Gonna kill her like your little Meave."

"No." but before he could do anything Cat pulls the trigger.

"Spencer.... Spencer...."

Spencer stands frozen and closes his eyes.

"SPENCER!"

You shake Spencer as hard as you can but he's still not waking up and screaming your name.

Spencer gasps as he finally wakes up from the nightmare.

"Y/N, you're okay?" He pants and holds your face in his hands, inspecting it for injuries.

"I'm okay Spence, are you? It's not real honey I'm right here."

He pulls you into a tight hug, burying his face in your neck, his hand holding your head. He can't control his emotions, so he cries, and you let him. You're whispering, it's okay, and it wasn't real over and over again, slowly pulling your fingers through Spencers locks.

"Honey, what happened?"

you ask softly looking at Spencers red eyes.

"She had you. She killed you like Meave. And I lost you and our baby, and I couldn't stop it."

"Spence, sweetheart, that won't happen she's locked up. You know I won't let that happen, right? Never." you wipe the tears and kiss his cheek softly.

"I know, but it felt so real I could've lost you."

You smile sadly.

"You'll never lose me okay. Also did I hear you right, something about the baby?"

Spencer looks away, but you turn his head.

"I know we talked about it and we agreed that it's not the best idea but I think I'd like us to talk about it again."

"Well I'm not opposed to it especially because I enjoy baby making process."

Spencer laughs at that, and you're relieved that you've managed to make him smile. Your heart hurts for him he's been through so much, and he deserves the world, and you've made it your mission to take care of him as long as you live.

"I love you."

"Love you too,sap." You laugh and hit him slightly.

"Seriously I don't know what I would do without you, I don't deserve you."

"Spence. None of that nonsense. It's not about deserving it's about choosing, and I choose you every day. How about we start making that baby, what do you say?"

Spencer being Spencer says

"It is very unlikely that you get pregnant on the first try as you're on birth control. It is 91% effective, and you've been using it correctly, so the odds-"

you roll your eyes and push him down on the bed, straddling him, then slowly you kiss him. Spencer deepens the kiss by putting his hand around your neck, pulling you closer. You pull away, and your lips trail down behind his ear gently nibbling the sensitive skin. Your lips continue going lower and lower. You absolutely enjoy the little noises that leave his lips when you softly bite the skin right above his nipple.

"Baby, please." Spencer whispers, and you smile against him.

You gasp as he suddenly turns you around, and has you pinned against the bed, his fingers interlocked with yours.

"I love you. You're incredible."

"I know. Just please touch me." you moan when you lift your hips to rub against him.

"Spence," you whimper as he takes off your shirt and places kisses between your breasts. Not being able to hold it in you moan when Spencers fingers enter you.

"Oh god please don't stop."

Spencer curls his fingers inside and starts fucking you with them making you see the stars, he knows your body so well and knows exactly where you need him the most- which is exactly why he's not touching you there.

"Hugging my fingers so well pretty. You're so tight can't wait to be inside you." all you can do is moan at his words when his thumb finally starts circling your clit.

"Please,please,please." Spencer chuckles and attaches his lips to your nipple swirling his tongue and gently biting it, making you scream.

"Go ahead baby." That's all you need to go over the edge, you cum as you scream Spencers name, nails scratching down his arms.

Spencer barely let's you recover as you feel the head of his cock at your entrance.

"You okay, hon?"

"Please just fuck me."

And who is Spencer to deny you especially when you've asked so nicely.

At first, his thrusts are slow and gentle,he's making love to you.

"Love you so much, princess."

Before you can reply, his fingers find their way to your clit and that combined with the hard thrusts and Spencer spreading your thighs more going deeper makes you see the stars.

"Please I can't I'm so close." you manage to say between the moans and pants he's hitting your spot with every thrust.

"I'm close too just a bit more love." Spencer grunts as he feels you squeezing him, the room is filled with your moans and skin slapping, the tears falling down your face trying not to cum as Spencers thrusts become sloppier and faster.

"Let go, baby. I got you." You hold on to Spencers hair and squeeze his hand as you cum your orgasm overwhelming you. Spencer is not too far behind as soon as you came and squeezed him he was a goner, and the sound he let out was borderline pornographic.

When he tries to pull out your legs trap him.

"Wanna feel you til I fall asleep."

"Gonna get you pregnant like this." Spencer jokes.

"Mr genius didn't you say it's impossible."

"No I said it's a low possibility but not impossible."

You can't help but laugh.

"I'm sorry about waking you up. Sorry I'm messed up."

"Spencer, don't do that."

"Really don't know why you're with me and how you even fell in love with me when you met me at my worst and you still found good in me."

You look at him, and sadness washes over you, it is true you've met at his worst you were one of the few FBI agents who were not on the team that helped when Spencer was in jail. When the FBI didn't stand behind him, you were furious. Yeah, maybe you didn't know him personally, but you've heard about everything he'd done for the FBI, and you couldn't believe what assholes wouldn't help one of the best assets to the FBI.

"I have a thing for bad boys." It was now Spencers turn to laugh.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I kinda liked the unhinged Spencer he was hot."

"Well who says that he's gone."

Spencer smirks and you can tell he doesn't plan on letting you sleep any time soon.

[THE END]

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

[dvzaiosamu]

oneshot about dazai osamu x fem.reader. Inspired by Somethin' Stupid by Frank Sinatra

hope you enjoy this though! This story is about Ada Dazai and Port Mafia fem.reader!

I saw this trend many times on Tik Tok and I thought it was very cute! So here I am to write this, I hope you like it.

You were young, a young woman whose name was (First name) (Last name), a full-fledged assassin, who didn't mind killing in cold blood, but you were just doing your job, serving Mori. Be loyal like a dog. But maybe your loyalty was too devoted and at the same time that was toxic to your mental health. You were literally surrendering yourself and the will. Your will had almost disappeared, you lived only to serve Mori and do everything he ordered.

On the other side was Dazai, former member of the Port Mafia and current member of the Armed Detective Agency. A young man who knows how to choose his words so that young women fall in love with him.

Two people from different sides, enemy sides. How are you going to get together with him? Isn't he afraid that you'll go and stab him with a knife?

Here's a problem, Mori sent you to help Dazai, and of course you didn't want to, you hated that idea, and although you wanted to oppose helping him, Mori convinced you and forced you to go and give him a hand. According to him, Osamu wanted to see you because he needed your help on some kind of mission sent by the head of the Agency.

Now you found yourself walking calmly through the streets, trying to forget that in a short time you would find yourself at a meeting point, that place was the park.

When you step onto the sidewalk of that park, you breathe in the fresh air of the trees around you. You sigh and enjoy the small dogs accompanied by their owners walking, but your happiness and peace does not last long, because a familiar voice brings you out of your thoughts.

"But it is (First name)! It's good that you decided to come... I thought you had already abandoned me!" He exclaims dramatically, leaning on your shoulder and lightly rubbing his head against yours deliberately to annoy you in the morning.

You elbow him in the stomach and push him away with a frown. "I was thinking about doing it, I don't think this mission is that important."

He puts his hand on his heart and looks away, closing his eyes exaggeratedly as he gasps. "How could you do that? You are very evil..."

"Very good, very good, it can be seen on my face that I don't care. Now don't waste time and let's do that mission so I can get away from you as soon as possible."

"Such rudeness..." He mutters.

[TIMESKIP]

The young man yawns and stretches his arms, smiling slightly at the end. "It's good we're done... That was exhausting, I couldn't imagine being in that place any longer."

You found yourself and Dazai walking out of a large abandoned building on the outskirts. Supposedly it was to investigate what could have happened inside, and a pen drive and some dusty papers were found. At least there was some evidence that the agency would open. "You're just lazy, Dazai."

"What can I say... Being so handsome is exhausting," He looks at you boldly out of the corner of his eye.

"Show off," You roll your eyes.

"I bet you are only jealous that I'm more beautiful than you!" He teases, with a gleam of malice displayed on his eyes.

"Oh please! Keep dreaming."

You two are enveloped in a silence accompanied by your steps and small insects in the distance. At this moment you were returning to your respective organization, but the path was becoming too long, you sighed tiredly.

"Oh! I see that you get tired very quickly, don't you? How weak you are," He grins.

"Please shut up once and for all, even if it's just for a few minutes..." You groan. A mild headache forms soon.

Surprisingly, the young man is now silent, without complaining. That was strange, not something he would do, and you suspected something.

"You know (Name)..." He pauses briefly. "Sometimes I think I have grown fond of you, and then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you..."

A small breeze collides with you, the mere confession makes you stop in place and stare at him, your eyes soften and a small laugh appears in your voice, you watch him serene smile, and you know his feelings were genuine, but how could you fall in love with the opposing side? How ridiculous!

"Don't be stupid, you know well that we don't love each other, stop talking nonsense," you resume your walk next to Dazai, and continue thinking about his words in your mind.

“You know… whatever,” You take a soft breathe. "I love you too..." You muttered with a dulcet tone, taking his hands and enclapsing them together.

Maybe it wasn't so ridiculous. At the end of the day it was love, a love that you denied, but that you got here...

Something stupid like I love you. What a funny way to confess, you thought.

I LOVE SO MUCH THIS TREND. I really hope more people do it, especially with Chuuya and Dazai! It's so cute, my heart melts...

[justabigassnerd]

Overwhelmed

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Word count - 3,136

Warnings - overworking one's self, swearing, mention of passing out

Summary - you begin to overwork yourself and Jake tries to help out before it's too late

A/N - it's another part of Hangman junior y'all! This was a suggestion an anon sent in when I asked for some ideas on what to write for the Hangman junior universe since it's so well-loved by y'all (I am still open to ideas from y'all regarding this universe). Anyways I'll stop rambling now. As per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!

If there was any feeling teenagers were familiar with. It was the feeling of being invincible, like they could do anything and shoulder any burden. You were no exception to this. You were also a Seresin which in your dad’s words made you ‘one stubborn kid.’ You trucked through what the world threw at you without complaint, always wanting to seem like you could take anything that came your way. But at one point it started building up to the point that you couldn’t handle any more.

At first, you picked up sports, giving yourself something to do after school and all your friends were doing it too so it seemed like fun. And it was. You loved getting to be part of a team and playing matches against opposing schools and feeling the joys of victories as well as the upsets of losing and promising to work harder. Soon after, you started tutoring people. You overheard a younger student complaining that they were struggling with their English homework and so you offered to give them a helping hand. As it happened in all schools, word got around that you were offering help and soon you were helping multiple people during your lunch periods and even having to spend time with people after school to tutor them. You were starting to get less and less time to relax and it was starting to weigh heavily on you. You hardly got time to eat or sleep due to the amount of work you were having to do. You had to do your own homework and then create small lesson plans for the people you were tutoring which led to you being awake until a stupid time.

Jake knew you’d picked up sports, he came to games if he could and he loved cheering and embarrassing you as much as possible. But he didn’t know about the tutoring and the amount of pressure you were putting on yourself every day. Even at the weekends, you were out at the library or visiting friends at their houses to tutor them or get in some sports practice. Jake was getting worried about how much you were out but he also knew that you deserved to have fun and be a teenager. He wanted you to have the childhood that he didn’t get. One day, however, your stress and exhaustion reached a breaking point. You had come home on a Friday afternoon after spending time tutoring a Freshman and you kicked your shoes off in the hall as a small sigh escaped your lips. You head up to your room and drop your bag off by your desk before heading back downstairs in search of food to bring up to your room. As you grab a plate from the cupboard, you hear your dad’s truck pulling up.

“Hey kiddo, how was school?” Your dad asks when he gets through the front door, searching through the house and finding you in the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. You offered no response, only shrugging weakly and keeping your focus on searching for food.

“Are you locking yourself away to study for that test you have on Monday or something?” Jake asks lightly, a slightly teasing tone to his voice. His face drops instantly when you slam the cupboard door and turn to face him angrily.

“Why the fuck did you have to remind me of that?!” You yell as you stare up at your dad, angry tears filling your eyes at the thought of the test you were sure you were going to fail with the lack of studying you’ve been able to do. Jake’s eyes widened at your outburst and he held his hands out in front of himself as a sign of peace.

“Whoa, are you okay y/n/n?” Jake asks, concern filling his voice as he watches you carefully.

“No, dad! Quite frankly I’m not okay! I have all this shit on my plate and I don’t get a chance to breathe!” You shout, the tears pouring down your face as your breaths become short and sharp. Jake doesn’t dare speak, he holds his hand out towards you and silently asks for your permission to touch you. When you nod, Jake wraps an arm around you, leads you into the living room, sits you down on the sofa and pulls you into a hug, gently shushing you as you bury your face in his shoulder. He didn’t give a shit that your tears were staining his shirt, he just cared about you. He ran a hand through your hair and whispered words of reassurance to you. He held you tight, rocking the two of you slightly as your sobs began to slow. When your tears stop, you bury yourself further into your dad's side, curling against him as your arms wind around his middle.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for yelling at you.” You apologise, your voice barely audible through the material of Jake’s shirt but he heard you regardless and instantly shook his head.

“No. You’re okay sweetheart. But I do want to know what caused this. I want to help.” Jake says, pressing a sweet kiss on the top of your head. You remain silent for a moment and Jake pulls away from the embrace slightly to look down at you.

“Tell you what. Why don’t we both get changed into something comfy and I’ll order a pizza and then we can talk.” Jake offers, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs as he smiles softly. You nod lightly and Jake gestures in the direction of the stairs with his head. The two of you head upstairs to your rooms so you could both get changed. You and Jake both change into a pair of sweatpants and a comfy t-shirt. You tug a hoodie on as you leave your room and you head downstairs to see your dad sitting on the sofa with a soft smile as you sit down beside him and instantly cuddle into his side once more.

“I’ve ordered the pizza. Let’s talk while we wait.” Jake says, looking down at you as you look back up at him. You nod slightly and take a deep breath, preparing yourself to speak.

“You knew I started doing some sports after school and that cut a lot into my personal time but at first it was manageable. Then I helped a Freshman with his English work and word got out about it which led to nearly everyone wanting me to tutor them because they know I get good grades. I don’t even have enough time to do my own homework because I’m so busy helping everyone else out. I don’t even get time to spend with you or Bradley or the Daggers. I just feel like there’s too much going on and I don’t know how to manage it.” You admit in a whisper, pulling your hoodie sleeves over your hands so you can wipe your tears away before they get the chance to fall. Jake listened to your every word carefully, nodding in understanding.

“Okay. What you’ve got to do sweetheart, is stand up for yourself. Don’t let anyone push you beyond your limits because they need you. You’re allowed time to relax and rest. Hell, everyone needs it or else we’d all be at our wit's end. Maybe you should stop tutoring people, and maybe take a break from sports for a bit, just so you can really rest up.” Jake says and he sees the initial panic in your eyes. You didn’t want to let anyone down, you were a people pleaser and he knew it so him telling you to take time for yourself was hard to digest.

“But-”

“I don’t want to hear any ‘but’s’. It’s so important that we take care of ourselves above anything else. Sometimes I have days where even flying seems like too much and I just take a day or two to rest and rejuvenate. You don’t owe these people you’re tutoring anything. Maybe they need help but they should ideally speak to their teachers about their struggles with the work rather than expecting you to spoon-feed it to them. Just, don’t be afraid to make time for yourself.” Jake says gently yet firmly, wanting to get his point across to you. As his words sink in, you nod slightly, understanding what he was saying.

“Okay.” You say as you nod, trying to fight back the guilt in your stomach at the thought of letting people down. Before anyone could speak, the doorbell rang and Jake got to his feet, heading to the front door and getting the pizza from the delivery guy and handing him a tip before closing the door and heading back into the living room.

“Voila. Pizza is here! You dig in and find a movie to watch. I’ll grab some drinks.” Jake says, opening the box and placing it on the coffee table before disappearing into the kitchen in search of drinks. When Jake returns from the kitchen he places the drinks down on the coffee table and settles himself on the end of the sofa again, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side, tv remote in hand as you pick a movie on Netflix to watch. Once you hit play on a movie, you take a slice of pizza and start eating, feeling your body thank you as you eat. Once you’re full and satisfied you end up lying curled up on the sofa with your head in your dad’s lap as he grabs the fluffy blanket from the back of the sofa and drapes it over you. Jake then runs a hand through your hair gently as you watch the movie. Before the movie is even half over, Jake hears your breaths become slow and even and he knows you’ve fallen asleep. He didn’t have the heart to move you so he lets you stay put, continuing to watch the movie. When the movie is over, he puts a tv show on to play purely as background noise and during the first episode, Jake hears a key jangle in the front door and a smile graces his face knowing who it is. Bradley enters the house, kicking his shoes off in the hall and heading for the living room. His smile softens when he sees Jake with you on the sofa.

“You didn’t come to the Hard Deck.” Bradley muses jokingly as Jake sighs lightly, an apologetic look covering his face.

“I’m sorry. I was going to come but y/n needed me. I meant to send a text.” Jake apologises as Bradley shakes his head with a smile.

“It’s okay. We figured something had come up. Is she okay?” Bradley asks as he eases himself down to sit down on the floor by Jake’s leg.

“She’s a bit overwhelmed. She’s been tutoring people on top of doing sports and school. She’s not had a chance to step back and rest. I told her she shouldn’t be afraid to rest when she needs it and that she doesn’t need to worry about other people as much but I don’t think my words are enough. I have a feeling I’ll be putting her on house arrest for a couple of days to be sure she rests. I might have her stay home Monday as well.” Jake says, telling Bradley about what had happened earlier, and Bradley found himself frowning slightly at Jake’s words.

“Poor kid. I take it she was spending most of her time sorting out tuition plans for people and helping them out rather than taking time for herself?” Bradley asks quietly, looking up at Jake.

“I think so.” Jake says, looking from Bradley to you.

“I did the same thing in high school. It was when my mum started getting sick so I was doing anything I could to keep my mind off it. I got good grades so I figured if I put some good out into the world by helping people that it would come back in the form of my mum getting better. It wasn’t until I damn near passed out from exhaustion that Mav put a stop to it. I think I was on house arrest for a week for that one.” Bradley reflects, remembering how much he had pushed himself beyond his limits during that time at high school and how he hated the thought of you pushing yourself down a similar road.

“I’m glad she didn’t get to that point. I hate seeing her in any pain.” Jake says quietly, rubbing your back gently before turning his attention back to Bradley.

“She’ll be okay after some rest and plenty of food and water.” Bradley reassures, smiling up at Jake.

“You know you don’t have to stay, right? y/n will wake up if I try to move her and I don’t want to disturb her in case she can’t fall asleep again so I’m stuck here for the night. Save yourself.” Jake says, a joking grin on his face as he gestures towards the door.

“You know, I think I’ll stay. The floor’s not too uncomfortable and I have a great pillow right here.” Bradley says with a large smile, gesturing for Jake to pass him the spare blanket as he takes his Hawaiian shirt off, leaving his white t-shirt on and chucking the blanket over him before resting his head on Jake’s leg. Jake rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics but found himself smiling at how much Bradley cared. Without thinking, Jake reached forward and started running his hand through Bradley’s hair, occasionally scratching at his scalp.

“That’s nice.” Bradley hums in appreciation as his eyes slip closed, leaning ever so slightly more against Jake as sleep begins to take hold of him. Jake watches as Bradley gives into the clutches of sleep with a soft smile on his face, smoothing Bradley’s hair back one more time before leaning back against the sofa cushions and allowing himself to fall asleep surrounded by the people he loves most.

The next morning, you woke up still on the sofa as the smell of pancakes hits your nose. You glance around, rubbing at your eyes as you sit up slightly.

“Morning, y/n/n.” You turn to see Bradley walking into the living room with a smile on his face.

“Morning Bradley.” You grin over at him.

“Morning sweetheart. I made your favourite.” Jake says as he enters behind Bradley, a tray in his hands as he approaches you. He places the tray on your lap as you sit up and plants a kiss on the top of your head. You smile as you look at the plate of chocolate chip pancakes and a cup of apple juice. Instinctively, you reach for your phone and your eyes widen when you see the time.

“It’s ten-thirty? I said I’d be at Mary’s place for eleven!” You exclaim, moving to put the tray aside so you could rush upstairs to get ready, only being stopped when Jake grabs you by the shoulders and sits you down.

“I don’t think so. I said yesterday that you need to take time to rest and you’re not doing that if you’re rushing out to help Mary with her schoolwork.” Jake says firmly, bending down so he could look you dead in the eyes.

“But Mary’s my friend.” You say quietly, your gaze falling to your lap.

“Sweetheart, I know she’s your friend, but you need to rest. Just send her a text telling her you can’t come.” Jake says and just before you can retort, Bradley appears by your dad’s side.

“He’s right, y/n. Overworking yourself is damaging. I know it’s hard to say no and to rest when you’re helping people out like this but you need to rest.” Bradley says gently, glancing down at you as you nod hesitantly.

“Okay, I’ll text her.” You say, opening your phone and texting your friend to let her know you couldn’t come around to hers to tutor her.

“Good. Now eat your pancakes.” Jake says, straightening up and ruffling your hair lightly before returning to the kitchen to make breakfast for him and Bradley.

“I know it feels bad to cancel on people when you said you’d help them but I promise in the long run it’ll be worth it. I went through a similar thing when I was younger.” Bradley admits, moving to sit alongside you. You didn’t respond, only looking over at him with a confused expression. You knew Bradley was kind, always willing to put others above himself but you couldn’t imagine him driving himself to the brink of exhaustion.

“That experience is the reason why I know it’s okay to take breaks when you need them. I will always care for others and help when they need it. But I won’t ever let someone take advantage of my kindness.” Bradley says, smiling down at you gently as you nod. Bradley’s words helped you understand that it’s okay to help people, but you don’t have to feel obligated to help them out every time they ask.

“I understand. Thank you, Bradley.” You say, wrapping your arms around him for a brief hug that he reciprocates happily.

“I’m going to help your dad finish breakfast. Eat yours and maybe get some more sleep if you need it. It’s a rest day we won’t judge.” Bradley winks before getting up from where he was sitting and heading into the kitchen to join Jake.

“Everything okay?” Jake asks, turning his head to look at Bradley as he enters the kitchen.

“All good. I was just sharing my experience with overworking myself. I think her worry was feeling that she was letting people down. But I think she’ll be okay.” Bradley says reassuringly, approaching Jake and wrapping his arms around his middle and hugging him from behind. Jake smiled as Bradley pressed kisses along his neck, trailing up to his jaw.

“Thank you for talking to her.” Jake says, flipping a pancake as Bradley tightens his hug slightly.

“You don’t have to thank me, Jake. She’s your daughter. I’d be an asshole to not help her when she needs it. You know I love you and I love her too.” Bradley says as Jake turns to press a kiss to Bradley’s cheek, both men grinning at the action.

As you finish your breakfast in the living room, you place the tray on the coffee table before lying back down along the sofa and tugging the blanket over you as you allow your eyes to slip shut with the sounds of your dad and Bradley talking and laughing in the kitchen filling your ears.

taglist (comment or message to be added):

@zbeez-outlet @kaceywithak @tsnelf7 @starkleila

[bodybeyondstories]

dicks keep growing around me - 7 (Myron)

Ty hatches a plan to make some extra spicy content using Myron's ability. Myron begrudges after some self-reflection, and things tumble further than either of them expect.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (Previous) | 8 (Next)

male TF // growth // dick growth // butt growth // nsfw

4478 words

(This is now the longest running series and I have two more DKGAM chapters that I started developing as I was writing this one. Might be settling back into a writing mood, so that's cool. Also I've just really been enjoying sitting with these characters)

---

[Me: It’s not that I’m opposed to it]

[Ty: But you’re not *not* opposed to it]

[Me: I’m ruminating on the situation]

[Ty: Ok! We love to ruminate!]

[Me: It’s just risky…]

[Ty: What could possibly go wrong?]

I briefly considered the laundry list of mishaps and mayhem that had consistently been falling into my life, baffled by the thought that Ty’s superdick ripping through their pants and coating their car in jizz had somehow not scared them away from me in perpetuity. They could barely keep the baseball bat swinging between their legs under wraps and were by whatever tiny miracle cool with that.

[Ty: ok actually don’t answer that. We’ll be careful this time!]

[Me: Is careful in the room with us now?]

[Ty: Just once. We recreate my l'il episode in the locker room, but with some rippage. Just enough to wow the viewers. That's it!]

[Me: You mean when you got all up in my underwear and almost ruined your own 🤨]

[Ty: Exactly 😙! But this will be more of a controlled scenario. ‘Dicks keep growing around me,’ in your words. They'll eat this up.]

I never should’ve uttered that phrase. I sat curled on the couch and levied an exasperated sigh at my phone. It's always some sort of antic with this one. I thought that inadvertently turning us into medical mysteries verging on freaks of nature would temper my former roommate’s exhibitionist imagination, but they were doing a great job of rolling with the punches–much better than poor Miguel and his window washing beau. But Ty seemed to thrive with the mammoth appendage springing from their groin, and it was their body to do what they felt like. And I do like to help my friends, even if in my own unique way.

I rested a hand on my hip, contemplating how far we would take these shenanigans before whatever this mysterious power was tapped out or we ended up in some government facility or pharmaceutical lab. I'd like to spend time around the people I care about without them growing uncontrollable donkey dicks. Even if they didn't seem to care all that much. I caressed the curvature of my backside, cheeks stretched taut over a layer of fat padding powerful muscle. These days, I felt like I could lift anything with only moderate effort. It was actually making my workouts more difficult, I was having to get creative just to maintain progressive overload. Some of the more serious guys at the gym have been trying to get me into powerlifting, even amateur competitions, but I’m mildly afraid of where that might lead. And I don’t need even more attention.  

I felt a tremble in my glutes as the muscles seemingly flexed in disagreement. I'd been feeling these small twitches more often lately, deep in the muscle. I was worried I'd been overtraining. Maybe I should slow down on leg day, I thought, then immediately banished the idea. I guess, like Ty, I had started to grow accustomed to the spotlight on my dump truck whenever I was in public. I even got a kick out of the furtive glances and comical double takes. My hands were always resting on my round cheeks, letting me steal small squeezes here and there, especially when I was trying to think through something, and cared less and less who saw me feeling myself up. With this ass, who could blame me?

I glanced back at the mound of my oversized posterior making a permanent taking up space on the couch. I couldn’t help but wonder how far all this would go, reflecting on a recurring anxious daydream of a future in which the plush couch was gone entirely and I simply had beanbag size butt cheeks to relax into. I had convinced myself that we’d figure all this out long before things got that far. And if Ty was right about one thing, it’s that these changes were kind of fun. And it’s not like anything all that bad had happened. So far.

—

7…8…9…

I gritted my teeth as I tried for a tenth hip thrust. The plates clanged heavy against the ground as I failed, my butt falling back to the floor in resignation. I breathed a sigh of relief at being done with my last set, my glutes burning in satisfaction. Again that annoying twitch, stronger this time. 

At least these shorts held up, I thought,  leaning my head back. It was a quiet morning at the gym, meaning I could unapologetically load up the bar with several plates on each side, enough to really get a pump going. I needed to work up a sweat for Ty's little experiment later, which I had begrudged when they finally wore me down by promising to get a few pairs of super supportive, ultra stretchy gym shorts from the athletic line of the brand sponsoring them. All I had to do was go through my normal routine, hand them off in the locker room, and film the short scene with Ty before any unsuspecting person wandered through.

“Myron, right?” came a question from somewhere above and behind.

I swiveled my head around towards that voice, looking up to see someone silhouetted against the overhead lights. I couldn't quite make out their face, but I'd recognize that figure from a mile away.

“Winston?”

“Yeah, you remember,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Um, sorry if this is awkward, but I saw you from across the floor and I just had to know where you got those…”

“Shorts?” I interjected, a beaming smile appearing on my face. 

“Yeah! I've ripped through just about every pair I have, it's kind of becoming a problem. You know how it is.” We nodded in commiseration. “I could send you the link for these, if you want?” I said as I extracted myself from under the loaded bar and regained my footing, trying to casually pull the thin fabric to cover more of my thighs (to no avail). This current pair looked painted on and kept riding up my legs, making my ass look somehow even more bubbled, but they were solid. At least for the time being. “I’m pretty satisfied so far, and I think we’re probably the same size.”

“No, I think you might have me beat,” said Winston, eyeing me up with an appreciative smile. “Are you a trainer? I need to know your routine.”

I was taken aback. Winston looked like he had just stepped out of a fitness magazine. His stringer tank top hung from the peaks of his traps and flowed delectably over his torso, leaving his juicy pecs, biceps, and boulder shoulders exposed to the air, nipples peeking out playfully whenever he moved, the light catching the glisten of sweat in just the right way along his deep brown skin. His thin joggers ended at calf height, doing nothing to hide his tree trunk quads and of course, the wildly disproportionate globes of his glutes, stretching the otherwise loose sweats tight across the mathematically elegant curvature of muscle that made up his backside. His body was a work of art. And he wanted fitness advice from me?

I turned to the mirror. Maybe it was the way my shorts were riding up or maybe a trick of the light, but it did look like my perky bubble butt had surpassed his, evolving into an amazonian ass since we’d last met.

“Um, sure,” I stammered. “Yeah, let me give you my number, we could train together sometime. Miguel will get a kick out of this,” I added with a nervous chuckle, handing him my phone.

“Well he definitely has a type.” He winked as he put his info in and shot himself a text.

—

I left Winston with the comically overloaded barbell to get his leg workout going and headed to the locker room. Ty was standing in one of the aisles, leaning against a wall of lockers with arms crossed, looking unusually impatient.

“Time is of the essence,” they snapped. “We're about to hit the midday rush.”

“Oh am I holding up your little workday excursion?” I quipped, working my fingers under the waistband of my shorts. It was struggle enough to get them on, but with a serious glute pump, it was a lost cause. I meticulously peeled them down the top half of my ass cheeks until they simply wouldn't budge against the hemispheres of my posterior. Ty, seeing my frustration, intervened, locking their thumbs in and pushing down as the elastic approached catastrophic failure, eventually resorting to palming each cheek with one of their dinner plate sized hands.

“You sure you don't want to make some content of your own?” they asked, grunting with the effort. “You would do numbers.”

With my gym shorts finally off (with no shortage of curses, prayers, and geometric strategizing), I whipped my underwear towards Ty's face. They caught them in their nimble fingers, appearing to hold the reinforced bikini briefs with reverence. They closed their eyes and let their nose dance delicately above them like a sommelier of magic musk.

“Is it that serious?” I asked.

“You have no idea,” they answered. “But let's save all that for when the camera's rolling.” They whipped off their work shirt and track pants and positioned themself on the bench facing the camera in nothing but their underwear, their long legs splayed to either side. Their massive fabric encased member rested on the bench, thrust forward slightly as they leaned back, indulging in another strong whiff of my underwear.

I had long known Ty made fetish content, but I had never actually seen them in action. They had crafted a compelling character. Laid back stoner with gravelly, sultry undertones. They reel you in with a dopey demeanor and cute asides, their eyes dancing casually around the mise en scene as if there was something vaguely interesting just off screen, before cutting directly to the camera with startling intensity. I watched my recently used underwear tangle between their fingers as they brought them up to their face and inhaled deeply, their eyes fluttering with a full body shudder. This looked genuine. They bit their lip as they dug into the sweat soaked fabric, their face a contortion of pleasure and pain. With their shirt off you could see their core flexing in involuntary waves, becoming stronger and stronger as beads of sweat formed on their brow. Eventually they began to shudder across their entire form, lean muscles brought into stark relief as they curled forward and stood up to their full height, staring down at the camera as they blocked one of the overhead lights to create an accidental dramatic effect. This was getting serious. They rested their hands on the tops of the lockers for support as they became slightly off balance, a brief look of confusion as their dick lurched further, small tears appearing in the fabric of their overstressed pouch, shudders becoming rolling muscle contractions across their slim, lanky physique.

They struck an imposing figure with their full wingspan splayed across the tops of the lockers on either side. How had I forgotten how tall they’d grown? Their fingers curled against the metal, head drooping down more and more frequently to the commotion coming from their groin. Their breathing became heavier and more urgent as their dick pushed against its confines, already testing the limits of its pouch as it began to visibly engorge.

It was obvious that the pouch was comically, woefully huge, literally unbelievable if you hadn't already seen the beast visibly pulsing against the fabric as if in sync with their heartbeat, eyes and lips creased with discomfort.

“I think it's…happening…again,” they muttered, looking down at their overpacked crotch with a mask of worry. I couldn't tell how much of this was an act for the video and how much was real. I don't think I cared. The pouch was inflating with the pressure of Ty’s growth, stretching the fabric to the limit as it grew larger and larger, slowly revealing their pubes as the waistband was pulled downward. 

I was captivated, my heart pounding with the knowledge of what was happening in that pouch, turned on by the prospect of our all too real fantasy content production suddenly being discovered by some unsuspecting civilian. I thought of Miguel. Saw his self-conscious worry in the set of my friend's face, wondered if his own expanding member would reach a similar point that could only conservatively be described as colossal. My hole twitched at the thought.

“Augghh!” exclaimed Ty, bending over in pain and snapping me back to reality.

“You okay?” I asked. I knew this was risky.

“Wait. It's…almost,” they muttered through clenched teeth and panicked breaths.

Small tears began to appear as the pouch finally started to give way, growing and widening as their monster cock did the same. A slow tearing sound filled the space as the fabric separated bit by bit from the elastic waistband and the seams of their pouch split open just as the growth started to slow down and rest to a stop. With a final grunt, the now useless panties gave way and fell to tatters as Ty's semi hard cock ripped through, hanging down between their knees under its own weight, a few bits of fabric still hanging on.

“Was,” they breathed heavily, hands holding on to the lockers on either side. “Was that good?”

I was speechless. It was incredible. “I, uh–”

“I think so!” came a voice of encouragement out of the ether that Ty seemed to immediately recognize.

Their eyes widened in shock as they whipped around, revealing an unassuming gym goer previously hidden behind the expanse of their double wide back. Their newly enlarged schlong swung heavily through the air, bobbing back and forth until they stopped it firmly with one hand and tried to cover it up with the other, a gesture that was so comically futile that it just served to emphasize how undeniably massive their dick had become. Their long, lithe form was crouched in embarrassment, their naked body displaying a vulnerability that I don't know I'd ever seen from them before. 

“Kai!” they exclaimed, their voice an entire octave higher with what sounded like uncharacteristic nerves. “We've, um, got to stop meeting like this.”

—

“So who's this twink they have a crush on?”

Miguel was cuddled up against me later that evening, his hand caressing my ass cheek in lazy circles. I felt my glutes spasm again. Strong enough to resonate deep in my hole and cause my back to arch ever so slightly.

“That whole story and that's what you're focusing on?” I asked. “And I don't know if it's a crush so much as a series of awkward encounters.”

“Or a pattern of meet-cutes, as they say,” countered Miguel. “They're having a romcom moment, they should lean into it.” He smirked and gave my butt a playful swat.

“Okay but not even the underwear thing?” I asked, rolling on top of him to grab two handfuls of his juicy pecs. He's really been going hard lately, I thought. 

“I can’t blame them. You've got an enticing aroma.” Miguel pointedly squeezed the underside of my ass, sliding a finger towards the entrance of my waiting hole.

Another spasm. Strong enough for Miguel to feel the tremor through my glutes and pause briefly. He bit his lip in anticipation as I arched my back and began to rock against his groin, feeling the heat of his python stirring to life. He gasped as I rolled his nipples under my thumbs, his dick jumping in excitement. Has he always been this sensitive? I thought, but didn’t have time to reflect as he slid one finger, then two into my sensitive hole. I clamped down, biting my lip as my butt cheeks flexed with the sudden spike of pleasure.

“You always feel so good,” he said, sliding a third and fourth digit, beginning to prep me for what was to come.

I could discern what was to come extending between my legs, pushing them apart with its girth. I could practically feel his heartbeat through the pulses of the veins along his shaft. His face narrowed in concentration, his breath deepening as he got harder and harder, his baseball bat elongating inexorably behind me. I was overcome with lust as my lips fell hard onto his.

“I really can’t blame them,” Miguel repeated, swinging around to reposition me on all fours, ass up, back arched. His dick flailed widely under its own momentum, slapping the insides of my thighs with blunt force. It wasn’t yet fully hard, but was that still hard enough to bruise? Note to self, I mused. He smacked the globes of my ass with enough force to definitely leave a mark, setting them into uncontrollable jiggling motion.

“Fuck,” he whispered, grabbing handfuls of each cheek.

A steady ooze of precum wound its way down my back. These days, he had no shortage of homemade lube. He nestled his face between my shoulder blades, rubbing his beard against my sweaty back as he left urgent kisses on my skin. My hole twitched in anticipation. His breath became ragged as he slid his massive head between my cheeks. The sheer weight of it was more astounding every time.

But he continued. He left a gooey trail of precum as he caressed my shuddering hole and his cock thumped heavy onto the bed before springing back up to kiss my taint. I sighed in wanting, missing the weight of his monster cock even though I still felt the heat radiating from it. But then that beard was tickling my sensitive hole, and those urgent kisses turned into guttural moans as he began furiously eating me out. It was enough to cum right then and there.

“God you taste so good,” he moaned between my cheeks.

Miguel’s rimming prowess was such that it nearly eclipsed the power of his record breaking dick. My mind was swimming in ecstasy, unable to hold on to a coherent thought beyond whatever symphony he was writing through expert ministrations around my butthole. I was dimly aware of the muscle tremors running across my glues getting stronger and more frequent, a dance of minute twitches interspersed with full spasms, crescendoing into a full body shudder as my ab muscles contracted together and a prickly heat spread across my backside and down my legs. It felt familiar. I had the phantom sensation of deja vu but nowhere near the mental capacity to investigate.

“Does this feel good?” Miguel asked, coming up briefly for air.

“I, uh, yeah,” I eked out, clenching my teeth through the orgasmic heat radiating from my lower body. I felt another shiver, my ass and leg muscles contracting in tandem on a regular basis now. What’s happening? I thought. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this kind of full body horniness, a pulsar firing off gamma rays with every heartbeat.

“You look so fucking good.” Miguel caressed each ass cheek, then let his fingers trace along my hamstrings. “You’ve really been hittin’ legs, huh? Feels even better than I remember.” An inside joke that gave him no end of amusement. “You’re sure they’re not sneaking that GluteMax stuff in the gym's water supply?” I felt my right cheek jiggle as he gave it a firm slap.

“Had a great leg day,” I chuckled. “And I know a guy.”

Miguel repositioned, backing up awkwardly to extricate his dick from underneath my belly and position his massive head at the top of my ass crack. I looked back to see him entranced, one hand resting on my ass for stability and the other holding the base of his dick. The space needed between us just to situate his cockhead at my backdoor was comical, he may as well have been on the other side of the room.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Be my guest.” I steeled myself for what was to come.

I was well aware that I was quite possibly the only person on earth that could take his gargantuan prick and those first few inches of his mushroom head always felt unreal. My hole expanded past what I thought was humanly possible as he slowly rocked back and forth, easing himself in. Before long, my walls were stretched to the limit. When he was inside me, all I could even fathom was the pressure of his monster cock filling me up to the brim, sending me to ethereal heights. He began to work up a rhythm, but then I worked up my own. My glutes and legs weren’t the only parts of my lower body that had gained outsized strength. As I became lost in orgasmic bliss, I was pushing and pulling him in and out by sheer force of will, using him as little more than a human dildo.

“Fuck you’re strong,” he breathed, moaning into me as he relinquished control. Bottoming out was a pipe dream, but he had made it far enough in to grab my hips and leave little bite marks on the small of my back as he held on for dear life.

As I built toward orgasm, the spasms got stronger and longer. My legs were on fire, I felt like I could burst if I didn’t cum soon. I was bearing down on Miguel’s cock with enough force to destroy a normal human penis, eliciting a grunt of concern.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I…I just…” I lost the ability to formulate sentences as a mind melting orgasm crashed over me, a supernova centered around my hole, which still refused to relinquish its iron grip on Miguel’s cock. I shot rope after rope of cum against my chin, my chest, my stomach, before my hand finally steadied my dick. But the feeling of orgasmic release continued, my back arching deeper, knees sliding across the bed and feet losing purchase as suddenly they dangled in the air. My legs settled into a delicious stretch to relieve tension, contractions finally releasing with the last spurts of jizz.

“That was…that was amazing,” breathed Miguel. I could hear his feet stumble onto the floor as his prodigious cock slid slowly out of me, ending with a thud against the edge of the bed as he stood up to full height, hands still gripping my cheeks for support. “Wow,” he muttered, fingers splayed out against my butt. “You’re really good at that,” he said.

“Good at what?” I asked, shifting around to slide off the bed and find purchase on the hardwood.

“Whatever muscle you’ve been training to, um…” he trailed off, looking dumbfounded.

“To what?” I continued, standing up to full height and looking down into Miguel’s big cocoa eyes.

Looking down? I glanced at Miguel’s feet to verify that they were solid on the ground and worked my way up the rest of him. Not kneeling, not slouching. So how was I looking down? I was a tad bit taller than Miguel but we still basically saw eye to eye. But now I was gazing from inches above, down into his flabbergasted expression.

A wave of disorientation hit as I looked past him into the mirror, my head closer to the upper edge than I remember it ever being. I rested my hands on his shoulders. I was now visibly, undeniably taller than him. Miguel stepped aside, shocked into silence as he turned my body ninety degrees, my side profile coming into view in the reflection.

My upper body was the same. Soft paunch of my belly below pecs that were starting to take shape along with some definition coming in along my triceps and forearms. The look of someone who was still relatively new to working out but consistent with a rigorous program and appeared to be decently in shape. As my eyes wandered down the expanse of my lower half my heart fluttered in disbelief.

I was inexplicably higher from the ground because my legs were…bigger. It wasn’t an optical illusion or some sort of sex induced vertigo. I was literally taller. My quads, hamstrings, and calves had the same shape and muscularity, the same healthy layer of fat, but had become bigger and beefier versions of the legs I had had just a few minutes ago. They looked wildly disproportionate to everything above the waist. Yet that was the least of my concerns.

With some strategizing, I could’ve probably maneuvered my most forgiving pants onto my legs. I was certain I had some shorts on hand that were stretchy enough to at least cover my quads until I could figure out how to update this wardrobe. But there was nothing I owned that was going to last more than three minutes against the planetoids that had inflated behind me.

I thought back to my encounter with Winston at the gym. It was hard to imagine how I could’ve ever compared myself to Miguel’s dapper, bubble butted fling. Winston’s ass was a showstopper, but this? This was something else entirely. My ass had grown into two beach balls perched on top of my hamstrings, ballooning from my lower back around the small dimples on each side. It was a comically unrealistic, anatomically impossible morph that was very very real. I squeezed one cheek and felt a pulse of pleasure permeate the background noise of post-coital satisfaction, causing me to briefly lose my balance.

I stumbled backwards, still disoriented from my sudden growth spurt (Is this how Ty felt?), my monster booty smashing Miguel back onto the bed hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He sat up on his elbows, awestruck, his semi-hard python bobbing in the air in front of him.

“Oh shit,” I said, my face flushing with embarrassment. “I think I need to sit down.”

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” said Miguel. “I always got a seat for you.”

He leaned forward and placed his hands on the underside of each cheek, taking a second to watch them shake, then buried his head deep between them, fully smothered by the time he reached my hole.

The flood of pleasure tuned out any concern I had had about this latest development. I sighed, leaned back, and fell on top of him, his head and shoulders disappearing beneath my mammoth ass as his dick sprung to full attention dangerously close to my lips. I grabbed hold with both hands, each of which could barely wrap around half of his pole, and began lapping up the steady stream of pre from his mushroom head.

One more thing to deal with later, I reasoned as I began to fall back into a second wave of orgasmic bliss. This really was fun. So far.

[nordleuchten]

What was Lafayette's opinions on slavery? Sorry if this has been asked before ^^

Dear Anon,

excellent question! And please, never be sorry to ask anything. :-) While something like this has already been asked, I needed to update the post anyway.

The short answer is, La Fayette was decidedly opposed to the concept of slavery. But, just like with many white men of influence at that time – the matter was not quite that simple.

La Fayette had his first real exposure to the concept of slavery during his first visit to America. He soon could not quite understand how a people, fighting for Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness could keep other people in bondage. He furthermore witnessed first hand the bravery, ingenuity, cleverness and determination of enslaved people – one notable person here is James Armistead, later James Armistead Lafayette. When the state of Virginia refused to grant James his freedom after the end of the Revolutionary War, La Fayette used the full weight of his name to aide James, who rendered an invaluable service to La Fayette by spying for him on the British. The two men would later meet again during La Fayette’s tour to America 1824/25.

Back home in France with free time on his hand La Fayette wanted actions to follow his words. He wanted to show everybody that it was possible to abolish slavery – gradually at least. He wanted to purchase a plantation and a number of enslaved individuals and then teach them everything they needed to know – in his opinion at least, to be freed. He told Washington (and a number of other people) about his idea and tried to enlist his aide. In general, La Fayette often discussed the matter of slavery with Washington, who owned quite a number of enslaved individuals himself, and even tried to convince him of freeing all these men and women. La Fayette hoped that Washington’s greater than life reputation would convince other people to do so as well. Washington’s reputation and great name were also surely among the reasons why La Fayette wanted his help with regard to his plantation-project. He wrote the following in a letter to Washington on February 5, 1783:

Now, My dear General, that You are Going to Enjoy some Ease and Quiet, Permit me to propose a plan tot you Which Might Become Greatly Beneficial to the Black part of Mankind—Let us Unite in Purchasing a small Estate Where We May try the Experiment to free the Negroes, and Use them only as tenants—Such an Example as Yours Might Render it a General Practice, and if We succeed in America, I Will chearfully devote a part of My time to Render the Method fascionable in the West indias—if it Be a Wild scheme, I Had Rather Be Mad that Way, than to Be thought Wise on the other tack.

“To George Washington from Marie-Joseph-Paul-Yves-Roch-Gilbert du Motier, marquis de Lafayette, 5 February 1783,” Founders Online, National Archives, [This is an Early Access document from The Papers of George Washington. It is not an authoritative final version.] (01/25/2023)

For the next three years, not, much was happening – until La Fayette wrote Washington again on July 14, 1785:

You Remember an idea which I imparted to you three years ago—I am Going to try it in the french Colony of Cayenne—But will write more fully on the Subject in my other letters.

“To George Washington from Lafayette, 14 July 1785,” Founders Online, National Archives, [Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Confederation Series, vol. 3, 19 May 1785 – 31 March 1786, ed. W. W. Abbot. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1994, pp. 120–121.] (01/25/2023)

He wrote again to Washington on February 6, 1786:

(…) an other Secret I intrust to you, my dear General, is that I Have purchased for Hundred And twenty five thousand French livres a plantation in the Colony of Cayenne and am going to free my Negroes in order to Make that Experiment which you know is My Hobby Horse.

“To George Washington from Lafayette, 6 February 1786,” Founders Online, National Archives, [Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Confederation Series, vol. 3, 19 May 1785 – 31 March 1786, ed. W. W. Abbot. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1994, pp. 538–547.] (01/25/2023)

La Fayette had instructed his attorney to buy property in French Guiana in a letter on June 7, 1785 with the condition that he would “neither sell nor exchange any black.“ The 125.000 Livre he paid translate roughly to 1.250.000 modern US Dollar. The plantation was named La Belle Gabrielle and was the “home” of just under seventy individuals between the ages of a few months and 59 years (I have sadly never seen a more precise number). The Administer of the plantation, a Monsieur de Geneste, send La Fayette a list with the names, ages, and descriptions of these people. Here is the first page of his report.

Intendant L. de Geneste. “List of Negro Slaves Selected by Daniel Lescallier” for Lafayette’s Experimental Plantation. March 1, 1789, La Fayette: Citizen of Two Worlds, Cornell University. (01/25/2023)

La Belle Gabrielle was a clove and cinnamon plantation and after La Fayette bought the property, he employed the following changes. The people there were paid, given free time and days off and an education. Furthermore, the severity of their punishments was toned down to resemble the punishment that any free white labourer would face under similar circumstances. He soon bought additional property because La Belle Gabrielle did not sustain itself, since the production was switched to less labour intensive and less profitable crops. When the French Revolution really hit it off in 1789, La Fayette had less and less time to spend on his “hobby horse” as he called it. His wife Adrienne, who was involved from the begin, took over and managed now most of the plantation’s affairs. Adrienne was a very religious person and the moral and religious education of the people on the plantation was for her of great importance. Shee corresponded regularly with Miolas Jacquemin, a missionary who lived in a settlement of missionaries close by the plantation. It seems as though he not only reported to her what was happening on the plantation but that he and his fellow missionaries also coordinated the religious education of the people there.

In 1792, when the National Convention called for La Fayette’s arrest and he was captured by the Prussians, his properties were sold, including his plantation. His improvements on the plantations were revoked. In February of 1794 the Convention abolished slavery and French Guiana was actually one of the places that was reached by the new law while in many French colonies things continued like they were despite the new law. Furthermore, French Guiana was one of the few places that did not see a lot of violent upheaval during this time – something La Fayette later in life took great comfort in.

Jules Germain Cloquet wrote about this whole endeavour:

But he was not content with sterile wishes; and on his return to France, flattering himself, like Turgot and Poivre, that the gradual emancipation of the negroes might be conciliated with the personal interests of the colonists, he was desirous of establishing the fact by experience, and for that purpose he tried a special experiment, on a scale sufficiently large to put the question to the test. At that period, the intendant of Cayenne was a man of skill, probity, and experience, named Lescalier, whose opinions on the subject coincided with those of Lafayette. Marshal de Castries, the minister of the marine, not only consented to the experiment, but determined to aid it by permitting Lescalier to try upon the king's negroes the scheme for a new system. Lafayette had at first devoted 100,000 francs to this object: he confided the management of the residence which he had purchased at Cayenne to a man distinguished for philosophy and talent named Richeprey, who generously devoted himself to the direction of the experiment. The seminarists established in the colony, and above all the Abbé Farjon, the curate of it applauded and encouraged the measure. It is but justice to the colonists of Cayenne to say, that the negroes had been treated with more humanity there than elsewhere.

Richeprey’s six months’ stay there, and the example set by him before he fell a victim to the climate, contributed still further to assuage their lot. Larochefoucauld was to purchase another plantation as soon as Richeprey’s establishment had met with some success, and a third was afterwards to be bought by Malesherbes, who took a cordial interest in the plan. The untimely death of Richeprey, the difficulty of replacing such a man, the departure of the intendant, and a change in the ministry, threw obstacles in the way of this noble undertaking. When Lafayette had been proscribed in 1792, the National Convention confiscated all his property, and ordered his negroes to be sold at Cayenne, in spite of the remonstrances of Lafayette, who protested against the sale, observing that the negroes had been purchased only to be restored to liberty after their instruction, and not to be again sold as objects of trade and speculation. At a later period, all the negroes of the French colonies were declared free by a decree of the National Convention. It is nevertheless remarkable, that some of Lafayette’s plans with regard to slave emancipation were realized: Cayenne, the only one of our colonies in which the example set by him of instructing the negroes had been followed, was also the only colony in which no disorders took place. Urged by gratitude, the negroes of his plantation declared to Richeprey’s successor that if Lafayette’s property was confiscated they would avail themselves of their liberty, but that in the opposite case they would remain and continue to cultivate his estate. Lafayette was desirous of emancipating the negroes only by degrees and in proportion as their moral intellectual education rendered them worthy of freedom. He foresaw all the inconveniences that might the sudden emancipation of a people debased by slavery, and the dangers that must follow their transition from a state of brutal degradation to one entire liberty, - a state that must prove to them more than one of unbridled licentiousness, of despotism would artfully take advantage, as of a weapon, first to establish, and next to justify sway. For man, in fact, there are moral as well physical transitions. The prisoner enfeebled by a confinement in dark dungeons cannot, without danger, be suddenly restored to the light of day. The slave, like manner is, fitted to enjoy liberty only after enlightenment as to the privileges which it confers, duties which it imposes, and the limits prescribed to by reason and justice. But, in Lafayette’s opinion, the greater the difficulties that impeded the abolition of slavery, the more energetic should be the zeal, the more persevering the efforts, of the genuine to obtain so honourable a result; and he saw with pain that paltry considerations of interest paralysed the hearts of some who might have given a impulse to negro emancipation.

Jules Germain Cloquet, Recollections of the Private Life of General Lafayette, Baldwin and Cradock, London, 1835, pp. 152-154.

Even after this failed project and his personal hardships, he continued to be outspoken. He was a member of several manumission societies and corresponded with abolitionists all around the world. He and his wife Adrienne joined the Society of the Friends of Blacks right when it was founded in 1788. He was unanimously named a member of the Society for the Emancipation of the Blacks. He was also Vice-President of the Society for the Colonization of Free People of Color of America. His last known letter was written to an abolitionist society in Glasgow. Interestingly, one of the few letter we have written by La Fayette to his daughters and daughters-in-law talks about slavery:

(…) there [Florida and Louisiana] is only one point to which I decidedly cannot resign myself: that is slavery, and the anti-Black prejudices. I believe that in this respect my travel might have been useful. The fact that I asked to meet with colored men who fought on January 8 was another proof of what I am preaching continuously, not for the beauty of it, but in order to bring gradual healing.

Lafayette. Letter to his Daughters and Grand-daughters. New Orleans, April 15, 1825, La Fayette: Citizen of Two Worlds, Cornell University. (01/25/2023)

La Fayette was praised and quoted by many abolitionists that came after him, Frederick Douglass quoted letters between George Washington and La Fayette in relation to the plantation in Cayenne in his news paper. Senator Charles Sumner famously quoted a letter by La Fayette to John Adams from February 22, 1786:

(…) in the Cause of My Black Brethren I feel Myself Warmly interested, and Most decidedly Side, so far as Respects them, Against the White part of Mankind— Whatever Be the Complexion of the Enslaved, it does not, in my opinion, Alter the Complexion of the Crime Which the Enslaver Commits, a Crime Much Blaker than Any Affrican face— it is to me a Matter of Great Anxiety and Concern to find that this trade is Some times perpetrated under the flag of liberty, our dear and Noble Stripes, to which Virtue and Glory Have Been Constant Standard Bearers—

“To John Adams from the Marquis de Lafayette, 22 February 1786,” Founders Online, National Archives, [Original source: The Adams Papers, Papers of John Adams, vol. 18, December 1785–January 1787, ed. Gregg L. Lint, Sara Martin, C. James Taylor, Sara Georgini, Hobson Woodward, Sara B. Sikes, Amanda M. Norton. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2016, pp. 182–183.] (01/25/2023)

Most notable is perhaps this quote from La Fayette:

Digital Commonwealth: Massachusetts Collections Online, Boston Public Library, Anti-Slavery (Collection of Distinction) (01/25/2023)

I would never have drawn my sword in the cause of America, if I could have conceived that thereby I was founding a land of slavery.

The British abolitionist Thomas Clarkson claimed that La Fayette wrote the above quote in a letter to him. This quote was printed on broadsides as seen above and distributed in America, mainly in New England I think. While it can be debated if La Fayette really said it like this, the publication of the broadsides had an enormous impact.

We could conclude the matter here and agree that La Fayette really meant well, he was opposed to slavery and earnestly wanted to do something. Were all of his believes as enlightened as he might have wanted them to be? Definitely not! Could some of his measures have been more thoughtful, more effective - in simple term “better”? Certainly! But La Fayette tried, and he meant well – while meaning well is still far cray from doing the right thing, it is still something.

We however, have to talk about two further aspects, something that some contemporary books often like to gloss over, because it is not quite that pretty and simple.

There is this letter from Henry Laurens to La Fayette, dated October 23, 1777:

I have not seen the french Gentleman who did me the honour to bring your Letter, but will enquire of your black Servant where he may be found & you may depend upon me Sir to attempt, at least, to Serve him, nor shall the Subject concerning Mr. De Valfort depart from my mind.

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 1, December 7, 1776–March 30, 1778, Cornell University Press, 1977, pp. 126-128.

The “black Servant” that Laurens refers to was an enslaved man that La Fayette’s aide-de-camp Edmund Brice purchased for 180 Pounds on August 4, 1777. We no neither the name of the men, his age, nor his fate. This is the only reference that we find in La Fayette’s papers and it is hard to say what happened to the man. From context is fair to say that he probably was not long with La Fayette.

Then there is another matter, proposed by La Fayette in a letter. Take the following summary with a grain of salt, since I have only read the letter once and that was in a rush. The letter was in relation to the Canada expedition – the expedition was chronically underfunded and there was supposedly private property that had been confiscated, among the property were a number of enslaved individuals. La Fayette proposed that in selling these individuals, enough money could be raised. The expedition was aborted in the end and La Fayette never again came up with such ideas, so I like to think that he learned his lesson there.

This turned into a rather long post, but I think that this topic needs an in-depth discussion, especially since La Fayette tends to be put on a pedestal in some representations. As I already said, he meant well and had the best of intentions, even more so as he grew older, and he was determined to do something instead of twiddling his thumbs and his influence certainly helped the cause. He saw slavery as an evil that needed to be abolished. But we also have to see the wider picture and realize that he was an imperfect man with a fair amount of flaws.

[owtono]

life

I find it amusing to write things down anywhere that implies a slight possibility someone might find them, yet it's still very unlikely. You know, like a falling cherry blossom petal, your thought is, in a way, unique and irreplaceable, but you're not the only one out there. Everyone's message is as unique as yours, there are many of them. Same as falling petals, the sight is endearing, but what are the chances of some individual noticing that one petal that is you? Hilariously small. But isn't it the beauty of it? Even if it doesn't seem like it sometimes, there are millions of good people (at least it's something one wishes to believe) and those people are equally beautiful. In the end, we're nothing but our insides, not anatomical insides (although I can't say it's a wrong interpretation), rather a soul. And whatever you may believe, there is certainly a spark in every human being. And that spark is what truly matters in life. As strange as it is to point out, all of the people you don't know that you see anywhere in public, they all have lives. I think it's fascinating.

I'm glad to see how I've changed. Opposed to what my younger self could have thought, there are always people who will understand you, there are always places you can seek help in. It might be difficult to find those people and places, or it might not be. What if everything turns out better than you expected? If such a thing ever happened, why wouldn't it happen again? Good things come to those who await them, or at least that's what I think.

Life is beautiful, isn't it? If you stop for a minute and just look in the sky. It may be cloudy right now, or raining cats and dogs, but eventually you'll have bright blue sky over your head. Or I'm thinking about snow - a terribly cold thing if you ask me! Yet when I look at it I find myself longing to touch it. As cold as snow may be, and how inconvenient it could seem to an unfamiliar person, children have great fun with it. I think it's good to let go of a serious exterior from time to time, after all what are we if not big children? Sometimes you just got to have fun with the snow. Enjoy your favorite snack while watching a good show on TV. Sing along to that catchy song that pops up in your head from time to time, even if it's weird, even if nobody else remembers it. Any other imaginable thing that brings you joy and doesn't harm others - you should do it.

Eventually everything will fall into places it belongs in.

Curiosity eats me alive, I'm full of wonder if some might find my thoughts entertaining, but further I go.

I love how I am, love my life, love my cat that is sitting on a bag I carelessly threw on the floor, love my... Honestly struggling to find a word for them hah, muse would be a strong one counting how I am in no way a writer, a poet, an artist or anything of sorts. But on the other hand, who said only artists may have inspiration? Everyone should have inspiration. It can be your dream, your family, your pet, your lover, your friend, and if none of the above - be it yourself. That is to say, be your own inpiration. Every action should have a goal, even if not a deep one. So just do it for them, or for youself.

Words cannot express the way I feel about my Muse. Love is a concept, and at that not the most certain one. People fall out of love these days, so love is not the word I'm looking for. My Muse is.. my final destination. The place where my soul belongs to. The person that I'd go through Hell and back for if the need arises. The person I will treat with utmost respect and cherishment for as long as I'm living on this Earth and after I cease to exist.

Although this text has no target audience, I'm afraid I will bore any reader that stumbles upon me if I continue any further. That is not to say that I will be surprised if none come around, I shall not be astonished.

Farewell, a person that, or rather if, happens to be reading that. I hope your soul guides you to a place you long for.

[clairecrive]

Hi could we please get a really angsty fic with nikolai (with a happy ending pls) where reader and he has had a fight so they maintain the facade on the outside bc they're royals but in private it's just ignoring each other/angst?

Young Royals

A/N: ahh, this is angsty alright but it seems I'm only capable of writing hurt/comfort lately. This took a life of its own and it's long af but I hope you like it anyway x

Warnings: miscommunication, angst, fighting, hurt/comfort, Nikolai is a bit absent, you're a bit jealous of his relationship with Zoya

Tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @pansysgirlfriend , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep,@lizzie-he4rts, @korol-lantsov, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @gallysonegoodlung, @a-c-lee, @mriddlemethis, @carnationworld,@thanossexual, @luvxginger, @sanna2020,@partiesandblurrypolaroids, @edithsvoice, @wafflesandschemingfaces (tag list form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

"Do not put words into my mouth, Nikolai."

"Please, you already have so many, my love," he scoffed and the use of the term of endearment hurt the most.

"You're making me sound like a brat while I'm providing you with a viable solution," you insisted with a flare of your hands, frustrated by his unwillingness to listen to you.

"No, you're not. What you're doing is being childish."

"I'm your queen, Nikolai. I'm only asking to be more involved."

"You're my wife, y/n, and you know nothing about politics or running a country." He retired, putting emphasis on wife. This felt a lot like being put into place. And the fact that it was your husband doing so, hurt. It was also the most you had seen him this week.

"Neither did Zoya, nor Genya or anyone who's currently running the country."

"That's different and you know it."

"Only because you're making it so," you exclaimed finally exploding. His despondency got on your nerves and this conversation was going nowhere anyway.

Surprised by your raise of voice, Nikolai stood before you just blinking at you.

Sighing, you took a step toward him, holding your hands up, "look, you're right, I don't know about running a country but teach me. I'm not stupid, I'll pick it up."

"Why are you insisting so much? You've never shown any interest in politics before." He gave you a puzzled look like he didn't really believe your intentions.

"I've never wanted to be queen before." before meeting you.

"Ah, I see," he chuckled mirthlessly, "I put you in this situation and now you're taking your revenge."

To insinuate that your marriage with him was you "being put into a situation" rather than a consensual decision you had made out of love was absurd.

Nikolai was right. You had never cared about politics or diplomacy before meeting him. You were a soldier. There was no reason for you to meddle with something that didn't concern you.

But now you were queen and you felt a responsibility towards your people. You wanted to help but so far, Nikolai hadn't allowed you to take part in any meetings. He said that anyone who needed to be there was already involved. What he didn't tell you was that while Grisha made excellent soldiers and even good councillors, one of them being a royal was a very different matter.

He had indulged his love for you by marrying you. You were his vice and he simply couldn't accept the idea of being without you anymore. He had married you, consequently making you queen, going against what his advisors told him.

While he ignored his warnings he was painfully aware, however, how difficult it was going to be for a Grisha on the throne. It was the first time something liked this had ever happened and unfortunately, the country was filled with people who resented Grisha for their powers.

Nikolai feared that the people were never going to accept you. Hence why he'd been keeping you secluded in the palace.

To be fair, you were doing a wonderful job. Like he had pointed out, you were not accustomed to politics but you made up for that with empathy and kindness. You started to interest yourself with the problem of poverty and lack of provisions for some parts of the country.

And while no one was aware of it, Nikolai often turned to you for military strategy. You were an apt soldier and had fought bravely alongside him and everyone else in the battle of the Fold. You were the very reason why he was still alive, to be honest.

While this arrangement worked for the first months of your reign, it was starting to feel an inadequate effort. You needed to do more, you wanted to do more. You didn't expect Nikolai to oppose it so vehemently.

"If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be, Nikolai, you'd do well to remember it," you pointed out coldly, straightening your spine.

"Since you seem so adverse at spending time with me or including me in important matters, I'll find someone else who will." And with that, chin held high, you walked out of the room.

You missed him. It felt absurd to say this but you missed your husband. He was always busy with meetings or official visits to some noble across the country. For most of them, he went alone or with Zoya.

You knew that she was his first in command but you couldn't help but be bothered by it. It was one thing to accept the fact that he hadn't given the role to you "because the queen cannot have that role as well", it was a whole other thing to accept the fact that another woman spent more time with your husband than you did.

Countless were the fights you had with him in this regard. But they were pointless. Nikolai was still set on not bringing you and he and Zoya were always found together.

You didn't know what hurt more. The blow at your pride for being denied a position you deserved because of who you loved, the jealousy or being punished for your identity.

One thing was sure though, it was getting too much. At first, you pulled thought for Nikolai but now that you didn't have him anymore, your efforts seemed to be in vain.

So, like you had told Nikolai, you looked for someone who was willing to teach you. You wanted to help and if Nikolai wasn't going to let you here at the palace, then you'd find somewhere else.

Count Kirigin had always been nice to you and he was a very generous host. You knew that he played a central role in Nikolai's plan so you thought that there was no one better than him.

You reached out to him, wrote him a letter in which you showed interest in his activity and asked him if he was willing to show you. Of course, anything that came from the queen or the king couldn't be denied but you knew that the Count truly enjoyed your company. If your position didn't put so much higher than everybody else, you'd even consider him a friend.

You waited for his reply before putting in motion the preparations for your departure.

In the meantime, you and Nikolai kept conducting your separate lives. Usually, you'd only see him at night when he returned to your chambers if you were still up. Now, you had decided to sleep in separate rooms too.

If he wanted a wife, then a wife he'd get. But kings and queens do not sleep together.

If the new arrangement was bothering him, you didn't know. He hadn't reached out to you nor made any move to rectify your decision.

Turns out that he wasn't even at the Palace. He had left for a mission near the border with Shu Han and wouldn't be back for at least a week. Well, then. Of course, he didn't even bother with telling you. Not even a small note.

Jokes on him though, you thought, since when he was going to come back, he'd finally get what he wanted. You weren't going to be there to bother him anymore.

Differently from him though, you did indeed left him a note. Nikolai found it a week after you had set it on his pillow. Its presence made him furrow his eyebrows since he had already been wondering where you were. You usually came out to meet him at the gates whenever he'd come back from a mission and even though you had fought before he went away, you weren't one for holding grudges. So e guessed there was something holding you.

Unfolding the paper he was met with your familiar chaotic writing.

"I don't know when you're going to find this letter but if I'm not there yet it means that I'm still at Count Kirigin's. Do not bother with writing or visiting, I'll come back when my business with him is done.

Y/n"

What in the name of every sweet loving saint???

The letter wasn't dated, no dear, no yours no nothing. Fuck. You were still mad or worse, hurt.

Asking one of the servants, he learned that you had been away for a week already. But what business could you possibly have with the Count??

Nikolai had nothing against him. Seeing Kirigin get all flustered as he tried to flirt with Zoya amused him to no end but the idea of him and you in the same house? Alone?? Unacceptable.

Not even bothering to change clothes after his long journey, Nikolai headed to the stables to ask for a well-rested horse. Luckily, Count Kirigin's estate was not too far away. A couple of hours ride.

Turns out that the Count had a lot to teach. Despite his aloof reputation and extravagant clothes, he was very observant. He lacked ambition, which was why Nikolai trusted him and had a curious way of behaving in social situations.

But Emil had been born and raised in high society. He knew how things were run even if he had no desire to be in charge of them.

So far, you'd be having a wonderful time. Emil was a wonderful host, as you remembered, but without Nikolai's presence, he was even more extravagant. He had an unexpectedly dry sense of humour and a never-ending list of jokes.

Being in the open and in the company of someone who saw y/n instead of the Queen of Ravka proved to be even more needed than you thought. You felt reinvigorated and much lighter than you'd ever been.

You had also been learning a lot. Emil had been teaching you about diplomacy. About the best ways of formulating a sentence so that you wouldn't offend anyone but still get what you wanted. He had also been talking to you about your husband's ministers. About their weaknesses and vices and what was the best way to approach them to get what you wanted.

So far, it was proving to be a wonderful decision to come here.

Whenever your mind strayed on Nikolai, you willed it to focus on something else. You didn't know if he had already come home or seen the letter. A part of you thought that if he had, he would at least write one back. But the thought felt a lot like hope and seeing as how little he saw you even before you left, you didn't think it safe to harbour it.

When Nikolai reached the estate, he was met with Kirigin's servants. They welcomed him inside and profusely apologised for the Count's absence. They told him that at this time of the day, Kirigin and his guest would usually go out on a ride but that they were also about to return.

So Nikolai waited, sitting in the most comfortable chair the Count owned, fuming at the thought that his wife had felt the need to go away and be in the company of another man.

"If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be Nikolai. You'd do well to remember it."

Your words haunted him. They were the last thing that you told him. How stupid had he been to let you walk away. How utterly careless of him to disregard you like that.

He had promised himself to truly talk to you about it once this pressing matter of state was taken care of. Apparently, he had waited too long.

But Nikolai knew that the problem was at the source. He noticed how hurt you had been when he made Zoya his first in command. Or how sad you seemed everywhere he went somewhere with her and didn't ask you to join.

He was doing so to protect you from the inevitable slander you'd be met with. He should have known though that putting you aside was going to be even worse. You were a fighter just as much as Zoya was, if not stronger.

She hid behind her veil of indifference and superiority while you had never lost that emphatic verve that made everyone love you so much. In his attempt to make you safe, he had only managed to hurt you.

You were a warrior. You had accepted the role of queen only because it was the only way for you to be with Nikolai. And instead of praising you by making you a warrior queen, he had decided to hide you away.

Well, no more.

If his mistakes had not ruined everything already, he was going to make everything better.

Lost in his musing, he didn't hear the sound of hooves approaching but he did indeed hear your laugh. It immediately brought him back to the present and a wave of ugly jealousy hit him.

He couldn't remember the last time he made you laugh.

"I shouldn't even laugh Emil, the joke was terrible," Nikolai hear you giggling from somewhere in the hall. So now he was Emil, huh.

"You know you can't resist my charm, your highness," Emil replied and Nikolai had to call on every bit of his self-control to not barge out of the room and punch him.

"Stop it, you know you can call me y/n."

Before Emil could reply, they had both made it to the sitting room where Nikolai was waiting for them. It looked like no one had warned them of his presence because Kirigin looked surprised then utterly mortified.

"Your majesty, I wasn't aware you were here. Please forgive me for making you wait."

"Don't fret Kirigin, it was an impromptu visit. I came to see how my lovely wife was doing." No matter how green he was feeling right now, he knew that Kirigin was loyal to him and the crown. Whatever was happening here wasn't one of his schemes.

"Of course! I'm going to send for some tea while you two get reunited." Kirigin quickly bowed before hurrying out of the room.

Nikolai met your eyes for the first time since you had arrived. If at first, you were surprised to see him, now you couldn't help but be a bit sceptical about this visit.

"What are you doing here?" you asked breaking the ice.

"You leave with only a few lines on where you're going and you expect me to just accept it?" He scoffed, his hands curling on the armrests of the chair.

"It's more than what you gave me," you quipped, crossing your arms on your chest.

Nikolai sighed while his gloved hands run through his hair. You were right and he knew it. He had been a horrible husband lately.

"I know you're mad at me, honey, but listen-"

"I'm not mad. You didn't want to give me what I wanted so I went looking for it somewhere else." Scrolling your shoulders, you interrupted him without meeting his eyes. A list of excuses was not what you wanted nor what you needed from him.

Nikolai didn't miss the innuendo. His jaw clenched, his hands closed in fists. But he willed himself to stay calm.

"You think Kirigin can give you something that I can't?" Nikolai was a master in diplomacy. Never did he get frustrated or angry or raised his voice, even with the most aggravating people. Here though, with you, he didn't have to keep a façade. He spoke through his teeth barely containing his anger.

"Well, so far, he's been giving me attention and interesting pointers that no, Nikolai, you refused to give me."

"So this is how you solve your problems? Running away in the countryside with Emil?" Nikolai sneered, his tone souring around Kirigin's name.

"Don't you do the same with your precious first in command?" Tired after your ride with Emil, you plopped down on the chair in front of Nikolai's. Completely ignoring his tone, you pointed out calmly. The perfect image of aloofness even when it was the last thing you were in this moment.

"That's different," he snapped trying to meet your eyes that were carefully analyzing your hands.

"Yes," you signed, "it seems that when I'm concerned everything is different."

"There's nothing between me and Zoya, y/n and you know it." Nikolai was getting more frustrated by the second. He came here to apologize, to make things right and so far, the conversation was going in the opposite directions.

"Maybe now, but you spend more time with her than you do with me. It's only a matter of time before it happens and you're sorely mistaken if you think I'll just stand by and watch."

"This is not about Zoya," he insisted but so far, he wasn't getting the reaction out of you he wanted. You seemed... resigned at the situation. And that worried Nikolai to no end.

"It never is."

"Why did you run away?" Opting for a more direct approach, he bit the bullet and went straight to the point.

"I did not run away," you scoffed in contempt at his choice of words, "I told you I wanted to do more and Emil is teaching me. Not everyone is so against spending time with me, you know." You shot him a glance.

It was the first time that you had looked at him since you had been left alone.

"I married you, y/n. How can you possibly believe I don't want to spend time with you?" As desperation slipped through his words, Nikolai leaned towards you in his seat. As if he couldn't bear the distance between you anymore. But you knew it wasn't that. You and he had been distant for months now.

"Because that's what's happening, Nikolai," you clipped back and Nikolai had to refrain from wincing at your tone.

"It's not intentional, my love, I've just been busy." His tone softened. It was a poor excuse of an apology but it was sadly the truth.

"But when I say that I want to join or help you with it you strongly oppose?" Again, there was that suspicious implication in your words that Nikolai just couldn't stand. To think that you believed he'd ever cheat on you with another woman when he had done so much, taken so many risks, to be with you.

"It's not what you think, y/n." He insisted again but immediately realized he had said the wrong thing when he saw you leaning back into your chair shaking your head.

"I don't think anything, anymore. Do whatever you want. You do your thing and I'll do mine. I won't be a bother to you anymore." Holding up your hands, you gestured as you spoke.

A beat. Nikolai froze in his seat at what you were suggesting.

"You're never a bother to me. Never." He leaned even forwards in his chair, basically only propping on it now. The desperation was now clear in his voice. He reached out to you to try and take hold of your hands but you were too distant.

"I love you more than anything in this world and if you think that I'm going to let you go without a fight, you're sorely mistaken." The steel determination of his words caught you off guard. Nikolai was strong-headed, you knew that better than anyone else, but it had been a long while since that determination had been directed to you.

"You already did." It was barely a whisper. The sad truth about your reality, the downfall of your relationship. The wavering of your voice, the pain in your eyes were enough to tip Nikolai off the edge.

"Milaya, please."He fell onto his knees in front of you. Leaning forward he reached for your hands that he could now hold. "I'm sorry. I put you in a difficult position when I married you and I tried my best to protect you."

"I don't need protecting, Nikolai, especially if it's by pushing me away."

"I was keeping you away from danger and I know that you're strong and capable but I hate to think of you as the object of public slander." His eyes darted between yours, frantic, desperate to make you understand.

"I'm Grisha, Nikolai. It's nothing new to me," you pointed out but then it hit you.

"By difficult position, you meant a Grisha Queen, didn't you?" Your eyes hardened at the implications, your hands going slack in his hold. You would have pulled them away if Nikolai didn't tighten his hold.

"Please, do not think I'm regretting my choice or I think you're not worthy of the title because that's not true." Pulling your hands, he tried to get you closer to him. "I fear that there will be repercussions among the people." And there it was, at last, the truth.

"And among your ministers," you added remembering Emil's lessons on the people at court and their role.

You scoffed when he stayed silent. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing, my love."

"So Zoya can handle it and I can't?"

"For the millionth time," he groaned, "I don't care about Zoya."

"I only care about you and I know you can handle it. I just didn't want you to. You deserve happiness and peaceful life and I know it's impossible to have in this saints' forsaken country but I can at least try." His eyes lowered in shame and his confession sent a pang through your heart. You took a moment to take in what he said.

Never had you thought about the possibility of Nikolai's distance was a form of protection. You were a soldier of the Second Army, after all. But being a queen, especially a Grisha one, was a delicate thing.

It was the first time in history that something like this happened. Nikolai's worries were not unfounded since even after the destruction of the Fold, anti-Grisha movements were spreading fast.

It was sad to see the General's attempt of assuring safety for Grisha, provoking exactly the opposite thing.

"Oh, Kolya," returning his grip, you leaned towards him, "I just want a life with you by my side."

"As do I. I want you always and forever but above all, I want you safe. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, you know it right?"

"I just ask that you tell me the truth and let me play the role I've been given."

"It's not going to be easy. People at court-"

"I know. That's why I'm here. Emil's been teaching."

"Well, no more. I'm going to take care of it from now on."

"Is this a promise or a threat?"

"Rest assured my love, the difference between the two is almost nonexistent." He flashed you a smirk and you couldn't help but smile at him. Here it was, your beloved Nikolai.

"Things are going to change, aren't they?" you murmured softly as he gently rested his forehead against yours.

"We're going to show everyone what a "power couple" is." Here was his promise. Sealed with the gentlest nudging of his nose to yours. The action made you smile and your heart soar. You missed these little moments of intimacy with him.

One of his hands came to cradle your face as the other kept hold of your left hand. Your rings softly clicked as they touched. A form of reassurance.

"I love you, y/n."

"And I you, Kolya."

You were completely lost in your little bubble, even more so when Nikolai's lips finally met yours, that you had forgotten where you were. And that there was an embarrassed Kirigin outside the door waiting for the right moment to come in with tea.

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

Could you please continue Short Prompt 36?

Request #25

Warning: nsfw, dub-con, sexual acts, memories of past trauma, character death, descriptions of harm & wounds, slight body horror.

I really loved writing Short Prompt #36, so I'm super happy to see someone requesting a part 2! And ooh boy, time to add another one to the master post lmao.

Enjoy! ^_^

Part 1 | Next Part

~~~~

The servant let out a shaky sigh as they eased down in the safety of their room. They remained leaning against the door for a few minutes, continuing their breathing exercises.

"What the hell just happened?" - they questioned, coming out of the initial shock. Did Master just… make out with them? And kind of feverishly too? Should- Should they be concerned?

Servant’s hand went to their face, fingertips brushing against their lips as a blush adorned their cheeks at the fresh memory. Phantom feelings of their Master’s touch lingered on their skin, sending a barrage of shivers through them. Out of everything they had been expecting, that was not on the list.

Did Master enjoy doing that or…? No, no. They shook their head, clearing their thoughts. It didn’t matter. The supervillain probably just… wanted to get a reaction out of them. Yes, that had to be it! They loved terrorizing people, after all! There was no way they were interested in Servant in some way. That was… not possible…

…

They shook their head again and decided that a distraction was needed. Promptly. The human began looking around the small room, analyzing it for the hundredth time since they got there. A one-person bed stood in the corner, accompanied by a simple round table. And truthfully, that alone was more than they had expected to receive when they first were brought here.

The rest of the space was occupied by a desk, wardrobe, and bookshelf. It shouldn’t feel like much. Especially since before the… shift in power, Servant was actually quite wealthy. They weren’t a millionaire or anything of sorts, but they were doing really good for themself and had a lot more to their name than what filled the tiny room.

But that was a different time…, a time when they would have called their current living conditions poor and sad. Nowadays, however, they knew better, knew how lucky they were.

Servant still remembered the first few weeks after Supervillain had won, the cold dark cells that heroes and any other opposition got thrown in, or the rough treatment they had received from the henchmen. All of it combined had left them with scars. Both physical and psychological.

Servant had the misfortune of being Superhero’s assistant at the time, and it was the only reason they had been imprisoned in the first place.

But momentarily returning to the present, they had to take another deep breath. The memories were not pleasant, especially not… not the execution day...

If they thought about it hard enough, they could still feel how terror clutched at their heart on that day. A group of henchmen had come to their and Superhero’s cell, cuffing them and dragging them outside. The servant had expected that the two would be taken to some isolated area, somewhere where they would dig their own graves and get bullets put through their skulls.

Oh, but no… The master criminal had prepared something… grand.

A public execution, broadcasted across networks and stations, across the entire country, the entire world. It had been horrifying, being dragged onto that stage and forced to their knees. The feeling of a gun pressing against the back of their head as the supervillain walked up to them in all their villainous glory, listening to Supervillain’s speech, hearing how they were going to set an example for those who still consider rebelling against them. It was something the servant could never erase from their mind…

"May this be an example for those of you who still wish to oppose me!" - the supervillain exclaimed, their voice booming from the giant stadium speakers. They turned towards the henchmen holding the two rebels at gunpoint, giving a hand signal to one of them. And with a single order…

"Fire."

A loud BANG echoed through the air, followed by the THUD of Superhero’s body collapsing onto the floor. Blood began to slowly pool beneath the corpse as tears frantically fell from the assistant’s fearful eyes.

They were frozen, unable to so much as snap their eyelids shut, but an ugly sob broke them out of it as the gun was pressed harder against their skull. Assistant assumed the two would be killed at the same time. They didn’t think they would have to marinate in such additional dread.

Footsteps suddenly caught their attention, a pair of boots walking in their direction. The assistant instantly recognized the monster. Their aura and power were unmistakable.

The human kept their gaze on the floor as Supervillain knelt down to their level. They didn’t want to look them in the eye but were given no say on the matter as their chin was grabbed and tilted upward.

They stared into the other’s cold eyes with sheer terror, silently begging for even a shred of mercy that they didn’t expect to receive anyway. The supervillain's expression barely changed as they studied the human before them, fearing for their life.

Both were still, unmoving, Assistant potentially not breathing out of fear. But then, slowly, the monster unclipped the microphone attached to their costume and held it with their free hand.

"What is your name?" - they asked. And for a moment, unrivaled fear gripped the assistant's heart, making them think it was only for the purpose of them being remembered as more than just 'the no-name that died beside Superhero.’

"A-Assist-ant." - they croaked out as the mic was brought closer to them, letting the world hear their petrified voice.

Faint recognition crossed Supervillain’s face. "Ah! You’re Superhero’s assistant, aren’t you?"

"Y-Yes, s-sir."

They hummed lightly. "Hmm, well, not anymore, you’re not," the monster said, quickly glancing at the corpse before adding, "But you know what, how about I make you a deal?"

With a wave of Supervillain’s hand, the gun left Assistant’s head, and they nodded vigorously, willing to do anything to survive.

A grin split the beast’s lips at their eagerness. They stood back up to their full height, towering over the trembling human again. Once they clipped their mic back into its place, they crossed their arms behind their back and offered, "Bow to me, and I will spare your life."

The assistant gulped, suddenly becoming hyper-aware of all the cameras around them, all the eyes watching them. But they pushed those thoughts to the back of their mind, now was not the time to feel embarrassed.

Their gaze returned to the floor, and gradually, Assistant swallowed their last bits of pride and bent their body forward, resting their forehead on the ground as their cuffs kept their hands behind their back. The world around them seemed to disappear at that moment. There was only them, Supervillain and Assistant’s wild thoughts of how to get on the monster’s good side so that they wouldn't die.

It felt as though eternities had passed, but in reality, it had only been a few measly seconds before the supervillain’s voice sounded out again. "Good~." - they purred, pleased. "Now…"

"Kiss my feet."

Assistant carefully lifted their head at the command, eyes locking onto the other’s boots. It felt humiliating. It made their face burn like smoldering metal. But they crawled toward them anyway, still on their knees, and bent forward in a bow.

When they were close enough, they hesitated only for a moment before leaning down and kissing Supervillain’s feet, going from one boot to the other. And somehow, they felt… safe down there, as if nothing bad would happen now that they had submitted to the monster’s will.

And a thought crossed their mind. Superhero died because they were trying to beat Supervillain, to rise higher than them. So perhaps…, if Assistant never climbed the hierarchy ladder without permission…, if they stayed at the very bottom where the master criminal wanted them…, they might avoid getting hurt…

And that was all Servant managed to remember of their first encounter with their Master before a voice brought them back to the present.

“A trip down memory lane is always so lovely, isn’t it?”

The servant gasped, blinking their eyes into focus as they gathered their bearings. They looked around, confused. They weren’t sure when, but, at some point, they had fallen to their hands and knees. A familiar pair of boots stood before them, though with an odd shine to them. They almost looked wet-

Oh.

H-Had they been-?

“You really got lost in your head just now, hm?” - Supervillain’s voice was full of amusement as they grinned and looked down at the human, who, in turn, hesitantly glanced up at them, a bit unsure if they had permission to or not.

“M-Master…?” - Servant replied, voicing their multitude of questions with just that one word and uncertain tone. They noticed that they were still in their room, the door at their back.

“I was watching you.” - the monster started casually, making the human shiver before continuing. “You zoned out and started bowing to nothing.”

Their grin widened, showing off their sharp teeth. “And so, I thought I’d give you something to bow to~.”

The servant moved their gaze back down to the other’s boots as heat spread across their face. “I-I see. I- D-Did I…?”

Supervillain suddenly bent forward, perhaps at an inhuman angle, and spoke lowly directly into their ear. “It was cute, watching you kiss my feet without even being told to~.”

Servant’s face grew hotter as another shudder coursed through them. “I-I’m sorry f-for touching you w-without permission, M-Master.”

A dark chuckle rumbled in their Master's chest. “Don’t worry. I’ll let it slide.”

The human let out a small breath as the other stood back straight. However, relief came to them sooner than it should have.

“That is, of course…” - the master criminal started again, refilling their mind with dread. “…If you can show me just how far you’re willing to go~.”

Servant really did not like the deep, suggestive tone. It made them worried. They carefully looked back up, swallowing the lump in their throat that formed at the sight of their Master’s half-lidded eyes. “H-How may I d-do that, M-Master?”

A CLICK sounded behind them as the door to their room locked. “S-Since when does that door even h-have a lock?!”

The supervillain wiggled their finger at them, beckoning them forward. “Come closer.”

The human obeyed, crawling forward and kneeling a few centimeters away. They were so close they had to crane their neck to look up at the beast.

Their Master’s grin never faltered as their clawed hand rested on the back of their servant’s head. “Bowing to me and kissing my feet seems to be no problem for you.”

Slightly tightening their hold, they continued, “So… why don’t we make this a little bit more… intimate~?”

Supervillain’s gaze was a sweet kind of dark as they pulled Servant’s head closer and rested their lips right on their clothed dick. The human could feel how it was already a bit hard and trembled at the various nasty and scary thoughts that intruded upon their mind.

And against their better judgment, a twinge of excitement twisted in their stomach.

“…I- I…” - the servant tried to speak, both voice and expression meek, frightened, and a tad embarrassed. The monster only pressed their face harder against their groin, and Servant realized they should stop testing Supervillain's patience and be grateful for it instead. They were well aware of how ugly things got whenever it ran out, though so far lucky not to be on the receiving end of their anger.

Shyly, they left the lightest of kisses and lowered their gaze, finding it easier to focus on their Master’s stomach. But the sudden harsh tug on their hair had them staring up again.

“Look me in the eyes.”- Supervillain ordered, voice commanding but calm.

Servant obeyed, keeping their scared gaze locked with the supervillain’s craving one as they began to leave more pecks on their crotch. The touch of their lips gained more pressure over time as they gained some semble of confidence, the hand in their hair loosening its hold and petting them gently as Supervillain hummed contently.

A shiver crawled down Servant's spine as an idea struck them. Feeling daring, the human tried their luck, and instead of pressing another kiss, they mouthed at their Master’s cock. The action seemed to catch them off guard as a sharp inhale cut through their previously even breathing.

The monster's hold tightened again as Servant pleasured them through their pants. But seeing as they made no move to stop them, the servant kept at it, rubbing against them firmly. It caused a deep growl to rumble in the beast’s chest as the human’s hands slowly trailed up their legs, making their covered skin tingle with need.

The inhuman sound made the servant shake again, a fearful whine escaping their lips, humming against Supervillain’s dick and making their pupils grow wide. Their other hand wandered to the human’s head, joining the first and holding them.

A moan escaped the monster as they lightly thrust their hips against Servant’s face. “…Ó͍h̟́, p͕̒ř̥et͚͡t̰̆y ̟͠l̻͗i͖͡t̙́tl̜̈e ̡̉thin̼͗g…”

The human’s hands landed on their Master’s hips, holding on and using them to steady themself. They could feel the other’s claws scrape against their scalp with every grind into their face and had to admit that it was an oddly good sensation. But not amazing, no.

What was amazing was the pair of arms that came out of nowhere and snuck underneath their shirt without warning, trailing up their back and making them arch their body into the supervillain. A whimpery moan escaped their throat as the clawed hands reached their shoulder blades and swiftly glided down their spine.

The sound seemed to excite the monster, their touch moving to the human’s front. They teased along the waistband of Servant’s pants, occasionally tugging on it, pretending to pull them down.

One hand moved up the servant’s chest, coming to rest at their breast and squeezing one of their nipples, drawing more mewls from them.

Supervillain rolled the tiny lump between their fingers, and the human’s hold on their hips turned into a full-on grip as their body turned into mush in their Master’s grasp.

Unevenly breathing through their nose, Servant lightly dragged their teeth over the other's cock, falsely biting. It made the monster's chest rumble deeply once more and had them licking their lips hungrily.

As Servant’s mind clouded, they felt an urge to move on, to do something more. And so, their hands carefully trailed upwards to the buckle of their Master’s belt, and then…

And then an explosion sounded off somewhere in the background, killing the mood instantly. Shouting from the henchmen could be heard right after. There appeared to be intruders, the heroic rebellion, which just happened to pick the absolute worst time to attack.

The supervillain growled for the third time. Though now, there was very clear anger to it. Their previously relaxed aura turned into a blazing inferno, the sclera of their eyes turning pitch black in their fury. Their sharp, slit pupils, meanwhile, glowed a bright amber. It was the only color visible inside the dark void that was their gaze.

The monster glared in the direction of the noise, silently thinking for a short moment. Their thoughts were a complete mystery to the servant at their feet as their lips pulled back in a snarl, a bit of saliva drooling down their fangs, making them glisten in the light. And eventually, their head turned, looking back down at Servant.

The human couldn’t help but cower as they saw pure murder in their Master’s eyes. They seized all movements as the other studied them, breathing loudly through their open jaws like an angry bear. And for a second, the servant feared the claws resting on their body would sink into them and tear them apart, but then, a bit unexpectedly, the other’s features softened, and a smile replaced their furious frown. Their eyes, however, remained dark and brimming with wrath.

“W̧͒e̫̒ ͚̽sh̼͊a̠͒l̖͋l͗͢ ̊ͅf͍̓ì͙nḯ̯sh̻͡ ̪̀th̛̩ị̐s̫̓ ḻ́á͉ter͚̔, S͇̒ẻ̟r̘̐ṿ͂ań̫ṭ͗~.” - the monster purred, calmly tucking a strand of loose hair behind the human’s ear before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

Servant was stunned but still shivered nonetheless. Their own name echoed inside their mind, said by their Master with so much corruption and darkness in their voice that they could barely form a coherent thought.

So, they blinked a few times, trying to break out of their daze and figure out if they should try to leave their room or not. However, the screams of terror and agony coming from down the hall assured them that was not a good idea.

As a demonic shriek echoed through the building, the servant froze up. And for their own health and sanity, they decided to sit there and wait for their Master to return.

[absolutepokemontrash]

Hi! So, I absolutely love your series where the MC is the kid of Lucifer, and I was wondering if I could request that with Diavolo and Barbatos? •v•

:0 you definitely can! Right now I’m just doing Diavolo, but Barb’s will be up sometime soon!

MC is Half Demon and Oh Shit They’re Diavolo’s Kid-

Diavolo wasn’t exactly what one would expect of the prince of Hell, I mean, he was suppressing the urge to bounce in his seat from pure excitement. I mean, his exchange program was starting! Humans, demons, and angels, all together, his dream was coming true.

All that was left was for the student to arrive, the portal opened, and the human fell flat on their back. Oof, maybe Diavolo should have set up some kind of landing zone filled with pillows. No matter! The human was-

…

What peculiar eyes this human had…

Oh… oh dear…

Dad-volo

The MC was his child, no question about it. This was… very unexpected. Well, the entire assembly hall was completely quiet, and the kid looked like they were getting impatient.

“HEY! Mind telling me what the hell is going on?!”

After that, Diavolo launches into his explanation, also the explanation that he’s definitely this kid’s dad. Kid was not impressed, they tried to square up with Diavolo and Lucifer had never been more confused as to what to do.

Well, the moment MC sprouted wings and launched themselves at Diavolo, Dia caught them with one hand and continued speaking like nothing happened.

MC, please calm down… Diavolo didn’t know they existed, let him make it up to them! They’re going to stay at the Demon Lord’s Castle! Dia’s going to be a good dad!

“This feels like the plot to the world’s most messed up fairytale.” MC jammed their hands into their pockets and grumbled. “I get sucked into hell and find out I’m royalty there. Great.”

Diavolo managed to smile and awkwardly reach out to give them a pat on the head, then retracted his hand after the kid shot him a glare. “Well, it’s not a very traditional fairytale, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time here.”

“Mm, sure.” MC mumbled.

Okay, so his child wasn’t that enthusiastic about the exchange program, but Diavolo was sure they’d come around.

Dia tried everything he could possibly think of to get his kid to both like him and enjoy their time as an exchange student. A lot of things had… mixed results.

Also, legally recognizing MC as his child and legitimizing them caused a big stink amongst the nobles who were opposed to the exchange program to begin with. So MC then had to deal with a few assassins. Wonderful. Fantastic. Show stopping. Dia, be a good dad and comfort your angsty murder target- I MEAN preteen.

They do manage to build a good relationship fairly quickly despite their less than stellar first impressions, and Diavolo made them a promise that he knew he wouldn’t ever break: he would let them live as normal a childhood as possible.

This means that MC gets to do all the normal kid stuff that Diavolo wasn’t allowed to do. It honestly works out great for everyone. MC gets to live their life, Diavolo gets the satisfaction of knowing that his kid’s having fun, and Barbatos doesn’t need to worry about MC causing chaos in the castle.

Man… does this kid’s magic potential scare the shit out of everyone though…

Tired Uncle Lucifer

No. This has to be a violation of his worker rights. It cannot be legal for him to be this stressed.

He knew this exchange program was a bad idea. LUCIFER FUCKING KNEW IT. This kid was judging him. Why did he suddenly feel self conscious about every single one of his features? This child was picking him apart and they hadn’t even said anything!

He confiscated Asmo’s phone immediately, this was a matter of national security! Satan’s too! Beel as- oh shit Lucifer may have to give Beel the heimlich maneuver, then take his phone.

When all the brothers eventually got back to the HOL, they were greeted with Mammon getting shaken down by Levi.

“Lucifer! Ya won’t believe this! Levi- what’s wrong with you?” “The exchange student is Diavolo’s child.” “What..?” “*pops the cork off a bottle of Demonus* the exchange student’s Diavolo’s child.”

The worst part about this kid was that they took to the privileges of being royalty like a fish to water. MC went out and did whatever the fuck they wanted, and Lucifer needed to make sure a state of national emergency wasn’t called just because MC picked a fight at RAD.

It didn’t help that MC was just so unimpressed with Lucifer. Anytime Lucifer would tell them not to do something they would just raise their eyebrows and challenge his authority without saying a word.

What the fuck.jpg

The things he does for his prince boyfriend…

Cool Uncle Mammon

Huh, so this little pipsqueak is Lord Diavolo‘s kid? Hm, do ya think they’d let him into the royal treasury? No? Okay… lame.

Mammon then decides this kid would be just perfect for scamming people! Who is going to say no to the Crown Prince’s kid? A suicidal person, that’s who!

And the kid is… up for it? Wow, Mammon didn’t even have to grovel! Awesome!

It’s such a shame that Lucifer came in and promptly removed MC from Mammon’s presence. Tsk, killjoy…

Mammon and MC do get along swimmingly after MC stops angsting. Whenever they hang out it’s pure chaos.

And they would have gotten away with it too- wait, they do get away with it. Because who’s going to question the Crown Prince’s kid? >:)

Reclusive Uncle Leviathan

Levi was in the middle of throttling Mammon for his money back when Lucifer burst through the door looking like he had spent over 1000 Grimm on a gacha game only to not get the card he wanted.

And where was that human he said would be staying with them? Huh? The human’s HUH????!!!!

… wack. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped out on that Student Council Meeting…

Either way, ew, new person he needed to talk to. NO THANKS. Well, no thanks until MC started to visit the HOL to hang out with Mammon. Of course those two normies decided to bug him. OF COURSE.

Levi finally snapped when MC loudly proclaimed that they could totally beat Levi in Mario Kart. Haha, NO. Levi challenged the little runt to a 1 v 1 race on Rainbow Road.

Kid lost. Obviously. Rainbow Road is rigged.

Honestly, kid’s alright. Still a total normie, but not completely terrible.

Cat Uncle Satan

Huh, a half human child of the soon to be demon king, how very interesting.

Oh, and just look at Lucifer’s face. :D priceless. Satan wished he was fast enough to get his DDD out to snap a picture, but he wasn’t able to…

But back to MC, oh how very intriguing. How much power do they have in comparison to Diavolo? Will using that power rip their fragile little body apart? Would they learn to control it? Satan was just dying to find out.

His feelings on the child themselves were mixed at best. They were clearly unhappy with the situation and Satan could sympathize, being thrust into a completely new world and then being told you can’t leave and are also royalty? That has to be hard. But this kid was still being an unreasonable little shit.

Satan continued to try and study MC from afar until the kid themselves walked right up to him and half demanded half pleaded for his help in studying for a test.

Not being one to avoid an opportunity to flex how smart he is, Satan agreed to help out. (Nerrrrd)

And honestly, it went well. When the kid wasn’t being a little shit, they were actually quite pleasant to be around.

Overly Affectionate Uncle Asmo

…wut

Listen, when Asmo asked Lucifer to pick a cute human, he didn’t mean cute as in CHILD.

This kid was DIAVOLO’S?! What lucky human had gotten to have the experience of [Jesus Fucking Christ, Asmo I’m not writing what he said for the sake of the nation]

Anyhoo~ little MC just made his heart go “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SO CUTE!” They were so cute Asmo could just eat them up!

But they were so mean! That scowl they always had on was going to give them wrinkles and ruin their perfectly cute face!

Sigh, oh well. He can’t manually rearrange people’s expressions. What he can do is take this child shopping. Poor Diavolo was constantly in his RAD uniform, this poor innocent baby shouldn’t have to suffer the same fate.

The kid continued to scowl at everything, but at the same time, their little quips were very entertaining. This little kid spitting verbal venom at anyone who displeased them reminded Asmo of someone… he just couldn’t place who, but they definitely had amazing hair and a cute face :3

Hungry Uncle Beel

Where’s the takeout- I mean human? What’s happening? …are all humans this small? Dang, that’s barely enough for a snack.

So the human’s not going to live with us because they’re not fully human and Diavolo’s kid? Huh. Wild. Anyway, what’s for dinner?

Beel’s not too invested in this drama, he misses Belphie too much to be that interested…

The kid’s weirdly interested in how cool and strong Beel is though. MC tails him to the gym pretty often.

Diavolo and Beel already being gym buddies send tweet-

Since this benevolent little shit likes Beel so much, they decided to take it upon themselves to help with the family drama.

Beel finds that very sweet 🥺

Murder sleepy Uncle Belphie

Oh man… if you thought Belphie was being unfair to L!MC due to their parentage… hoo boy…

When this kid waltzed up the attic steps like they ran the place, Belphie needed to hold himself back from trying to break down the door and throttle this kid.

Pff, of course Diavolo would have a half human kid. Of course.

…kid beat the shit out of him when he tried to kill them. We stan this MC.

After all is said and done, Belphie still isn’t overly fond of MC. They’re brash and rude and only funny 40% of the time. They don’t even like napping 😒

But Beel likes the little runt, so Belphie and MC put up with each other.

Bonus! Your Angelic Uncle Simeon’s Chihuahua

:0 friend!

MC: *speaks*

>:0 not friend! Begone! *throws crucifix*

[olimpias]

WIP REINTRO *DOLL FACE*

genre: horror/thriller/crime (a bit of everything), romance (definitely), adventure (lots of it).

setting: Vrozhondiya, a fictive, gigantic, early-18th-century-france/england/russia-inspired northern country. It has mountains, forests, many small villages, few big cities and a lot of snow in the winter and I mean a lot of it. Mainly takes place in Cantaville, the truly splendid capital. Splendid in certain quarters, that is.

themes & tropes: complicated friends to lovers, minor enemies to lovers, court intrigues, murder, inequality, insanity but it’s ok, unconventional families (found to some degree), moral compass? i don’t know her, magic but it’s icky and difficult, how to fight injustice in the worst possible but still effective way

pov: third person multiple

status: writing

synopsis:

Zoyka Abraxis is the cleverest girl in Cantaville, maybe even the whole world, and she knows it. She is also excessively pretty and rather well-to-do and has absolutely no desire to come of age and get married the following year. This winter is her last season of freedom and she’s going to enjoy it. Or she would, if life wasn’t so horribly boring.

There are, of course, the twelve ministers that may or may not have overthrown the king, hidden away his infant son and are now apparently exploiting everyone who’s opposing them, poor or not a human. Then the student uprising that could very well lead to a revolution and whose leader is possibly a young lord (how ironic), or the state composer difficulties, but all these things belong into politics and why should she care about politics? Besides, she has her best friend Philip who works for the government and tells her all the latest political gossip, albeit reluctantly so.

Everything changes when, at the first ball of the season, the Minister of Military is murdered, stabbed with one of Zoyka’s hat pins of all things. The entirety of the high society agrees that it is most inconsiderate and disgraceful to just pass away during a dance and embarrass your partner in such a way. But when more and more ministers are killed, Zoyka decides to take matters into her own hands and find the killer, the leader of the revolution, the king’s mysterious son and a new state composer all at once. Not necessarily to stop the murders or the revolution but to simply know the truth and end her boredom (the ministers deserve to die for all she cares). And her ability to read minds might actually be of real use for once.

have one of my favourite quotes from what I’ve written so far:

“My dear Zoyka, has it ever occured to you that you might actually be crazy?” Philip said defeatedly.

“Of course it has. Daily. But what am I supposed to do about it? Thanking you for noticing, probably. Most people don’t.”

characters:

Zoyka Abraxis (she/her, asexual/biromantic)

18

human

granddaughter of Camir Abraxis

family power: eyes, specific: mind reading

Philip Semenov (he/him, bisexual)

22

human

Official Foreign Inquirer for the Honourable Ministery of Vrozhondiya

family power: ears, specific: coordination

Camir Abraxis (he/him, probably straight idk)

64

human

first magician/healer of Vrozhondiya

family power: eyes, specific: 360° view

Lillian Sandino (she/her, lesbian)

19

human

candidate for favourite debutante of the season

family power: hands, specific: heat

Theodore Capmandou (he/him, gay)

20

human

student of magical history and knowledge

family power: feet, specific: balance

Vazya Jeberte (he/him, gay)

20

human

student of music

family power: none

Loucifiera, ”Lou” (they/them, pansexual)

18

dragonfaery

member of the ”Circus of Special Attractions and Unbridled Entertainment”

family power: well, none, but they have wings (obviously)

Micola Carramade (he/him for now, unknown)

11

human

only child of Adelaisis I of Vrozhondiya

family power: body, specific: passing through walls

taglist under the cut (ask to be +/-)

general taglist: @wherewindysurgeswend @gothicgibsongirl @bookphobe @write-gallagher @sadsentinel @aeipathys @tragediesoftory @ortolon @euphoniouspandemonium

doll face: @poisonedpatchoulis @sadsentinel @tragediesoftory @smallaviatrix @ryns-ramblings @dandelion-tea @ortolon @oocephalus @willowiswriting @citywillow @cream-and-tea @wip-nook @athenswrites @jessicas-story-blog22 @scarletteflamerald @thetruearchmagos @motelbf

[shkspr]

hi. on your post where you may or may not have ended on 'moffat is either your angel or your devil' did you have maybe an elaboration on that somewhere that i could possibly hear about. i'm very much a capaldi era stan and i've never tried to defend the matt smith era even though it had delightful moments sometimes so i wonder where that puts me. i'd love to hear your perspective on moffat as a person with your political perspective. -nicole

hi ok sorry i took so long to respond to this but i dont think you know how LOADED this question is for me but i am so happy to elaborate on that for you. first a few grains of salt to flavor your understanding of the whole situation: a. im unfairly biased against moffat bc im a davies stan and a tennant stan; b. i still very much enjoy and appreciate moffat era who for many reasons; and c. i hate moffat on a personal level far more than i could ever hate his work.

the thing is that its all always gonna be a bit mixed up bc i have to say a bunch of seemingly contradictory things in a row. for instance, a few moffat episodes are some of my absolute favorites of the rtd era, AND the show went way downhill when moffat took over, AND the really good episodes he wrote during the rtd era contained the seeds of his destruction.

like i made that post about the empty child/the doctor dances and it holds true for blink and thats about it bc the girl in the fireplace and silence in the library/forest of the dead are good but not nearly on the same level, and despite the fact that i like them at least nominally, they are also great examples of everything i hate about moffat and how he approached dw as a whole.

basically. doctor who is about people. there are many things about moffats tenure as showrunner that i think are a step up from rtd era who! actual gay people, for one! but i think that can likely be attributed mostly to an evolving Society as opposed to something inherent to him and his work, seeing as rtd is literally gay, and the existence of queer characters in moffats work doesnt mean the existence of good queer characters (ill give him bill but thats it!)

i have a few Primary Grievances with moffat and how he ran dw. all of them are things that got better with capaldi, but didnt go away. they are as follows:

moffat projects his own god complex onto the doctor

rtd era who had a doctor with a god complex. you cant ever be the doctor and not have a god complex. the problem with moffats era specifically is that the god complex was constant and unrepentant and was seen as a fundamental personality trait of the doctor rather than a demon he has to fight. he has the Momence where you feel bad for him, the Momence where he shows his humility or whatever and youre reminded that he doesnt want to be the lonely god, but those are just. moments. in a story where the doctor thinks hes the main character. rtd era doctor was aware that he wasnt the main character. he had to be an authority sometimes and he had to be the loner and he had to be sad about it, but he ultimately understood that he was expendable in a narrative sense.

this is how you get lines like “were the thin fat gay married anglican marines, why would we need names as well?” from the same show that gave you the gut punch moment at the end of midnight when they realize that nobody asked the hostess for her name. and on the one hand, thats a small sticking point, but on the other hand, its just one small example of the simple disregard that moffat has for humanity.

incidentally, this is a huge part of why sherlock sucked so bad: moffats main characters are special bc theyre so much bigger and better than all the normal people, and thats his downfall as a showrunner. he thinks that his audience wants fucking sheldon cooper when what they want is people.

like, ok. think of how many fantastic rtd era eps are based in the scenario “what if the doctor wasnt there? what if he was just out of commission for a bit?” and how those eps are the heart of the show!! bc theyre about people being people!! the thing is that all of the rtd era companions would have died for the doctor but he understood and the story understood that it wasnt about him.

this is like. nine sending rose home to save her life and sacrifice his own vs clara literally metaphysically entwining her existence w the doctor. ten also sending rose with her family to save her life vs river being raised from infancy to be obsessed w the doctor and then falling in love w him. martha leaving bc she values herself enough to make that decision vs amy being treated like a piece of meat.

and this is simultaneously a great callback to when i said that moffats episodes during the rtd era sometimes had the same problems as his show running (bc girl in the fireplace reeks of this), and a great segue into the next grievance.

moffat hates women

he hates women so fucking much. g-d, does steven moffat ever hate women. holy shit, he hates women. especially normal human women who prioritize their normal human lives on an equal or higher level than the doctor. moffat hated rose bc she wasnt special by his standards. the empty child/the doctor dances is the nicest he ever treated her, and she really didnt do much in those eps beyond a fuck ton of flirting.

girl in the fireplace is another shining example of this. youve got rose (who once again has another man to keep her busy, bc moffat doesnt think shes good enough for the doctor) sidelined for no reason only to be saved by the doctor at the last second or whatever. and then youve got reinette, who is pretty and powerful and special!

its just. moffat thinks that the doctor is as shallow and selfish as he is. thats why he thinks the doctor would stay in one place with reinette and not with rose. bc moffat is shallow and sees himself in the doctor and doesnt think he should have to settle for someone boring and normal.

not to mention rose met the doctor as an adult and chose to stay with him whereas reinette is. hm. introduced to the doctor as a child and grows up obsessed with him.

does that sound familiar? it should! bc it is also true of amy and river. and all of them are treated as viable romantic pairings. bc the only women who deserve the doctor are the ones whose entire existence revolves around him. which includes clara as well.

genuinely i think that at least on some level, not even necessarily consciously, that bill was a lesbian in part bc capaldi was too old to appeal to mainstream shippers. like twelve/clara is still a thing but not as universally appealing as eleven/clara but i am just spitballing. but i think they weighed the pros and cons of appealing to the woke crowd over the het shippers and found that gay companion was more profitable. anyway the point is to segue into the next point, which is that moffat hates permanent consequences.

moffat hates permanent consequences

steven moffat does not know how to kill a character. honestly it feels like hes doing it on purpose after a certain point, like he knows he has this habit and hes trying to riff on it to meme his own shit, but it doesnt work. it isnt funny and it isnt harmless, its bad writing.

the end of the doctor dances is so poignant and so meaningful and so fucking good bc its just this once! everybody lives, just this once! and then he does p much the same thing in forest of the dead - this one i could forgive, bc i do think that preserving those peoples consciousnesses did something for the doctor as a character, it wasnt completely meaningless. but everything after that kinda was.

rory died so many times its like. get a hobby lol. amy died at least once iirc but it was all a dream or something. clara died and was erased from the doctors memory. river was in prison and also died. bill? died. all of them sugarcoated or undone or ignored by the narrative to the point of having effectively no impact on the story. the point of a major character death is that its supposed to have a point. and you could argue that a piece of art could be making a point with a pointless death, ie. to put perspective on it and remind you that bad shit just happens, but with moffat the underlying message is always “i can do whatever i want, nothing is permanent or has lasting impact ever.”

basically, with moffat, tragedy exists to be undone. and this was a really brilliant, really wonderful thing in the doctor dances specifically bc it was the doctor clearly having seen his fair share of tragedy that couldnt be helped, now looking on his One Win with pride and delight bc he doesnt get wins like this! and then moffat proceeded to give him the same win over and over and over and over. nobody is ever dead. nobody is ever unable to be saved. and if they are, really truly dead and/or gone, then thats okay bc moffat has decided that [insert mitigating factor here]*

*the mitigating factor is usually some sort of computerized database of souls.

i can hear the moffat stans falling over themselves to remind me that amy and rory definitely died, and they did - after a long and happy life together, they died of old age. i dont consider that a character death any more than any other character choosing to permanently leave the tardis.

and its not just character deaths either, its like, everything. the destruction of gallifrey? never mind lol! character development? scrapped! the same episode four times? lets give it a fifth try and hope nobody notices. bc he doesnt know how to not make the doctor either an omnipotent savior or a self-pitying failure.

it is in nature of doctor who, i believe, for the doctor to win most of the time. like, it wouldnt be a very good show if he didnt win most of the time. but it also wouldnt be a very good show if he won all of the time. my point is that moffats doctor wins too often, and when he doesnt win, it feels empty and hollow rather than genuinely humbling, and you know hes not gonna grow from it pretty much at all.

so like. again, i like all of doctor who i enjoy all of it very much. i just think that steven moffat is a bad show runner and a decent writer at times. and it is frustrating. and im not here to convince or convert anyone im just living my truth. thank you for listening.

[wheelsup]

coffee is the sixth love language | part two

Summary: Over three cups of coffee, Spencer realized his feelings for you. And over three cups of coffee, he acts on them. gn!Reader.

A/N: the italicized this time indicates Spencer’s thoughts, not reader’s. part of this story is inspired directly from these comments made by @doctorthreephds on the reblog! thanks for letting me incorporate them :)

category: fluff, sfw

warnings: technically none, but the “profiling” part is kind of a reach.

word count: 3k

     Once Spencer was firmly resolute on asking you out, he knew he wanted it to be special in a way that only the two of you could appreciate. He realized that he had yet to be the one bringing you coffee, and so it felt only right that it should be how he makes his first move. He woke up extra early on a weekday morning to stop by your favorite coffee shop on his way to work because he knew you loved their banana nut muffins and double-brewed coffee. It was an extra twenty-five minutes out of the way for work each way, so you only got to go there on the rare occasion that you had a day off and were not out of town on a case. It might have been ridiculous to drive fifty minutes for a single damn muffin, but Spencer wanted to make this perfect for you by any means necessary. This was one of the special times that Spencer drove his car, needing the extra speed in order to complete his mission.

     He picked up your regular drink order and the muffin and was anxiously on his way back to Quantico. As per his plan he arrived at the office before you did, though not too much earlier because he wanted to make sure your coffee was still hot by the time you got it. If Spencer’s calculations were correct - which they almost always were - you would arrive within a two to four and a half minute window from when he did. Spencer took out a sharpie from his desk drawer and delicately scrawled a message onto the top corner of the pastry bag holding your muffin. He thought it felt like something out of a cheesy romance novel, the kind of novels that you could find in the fifty cent clearance bins, but dammit if Spencer didn’t deserve a little cheesy romance in his life. The other benefit of this was that he thought he would almost certainly choke on his words if he had to ask you himself. He set the two items on your desk and returned to his own to sit and observe. Spencer hoped it would be the first of many coffees he could buy you.

It wasn’t until you had already walked into the bullpen and were halfway to your desk that Spencer realized he had forgotten to sign his name to the bag. How were you supposed to react to him asking you out if you didn’t actually know it was him? And oh God, he left unsealed food on the desk of an FBI agent, with no indication of who had put it there. That is infinitely more suspicious than it is romantic. He wouldn’t be surprised if she took it straight to the trash can. So long for cheesy romance, Dr. Reid.

     But Spencer was absolutely elated when your first reaction was to peek into the bag and gasp out of joy at what was inside. He watched you break off a piece of your beloved banana nut muffin and chew it gleefully, and all he could think of was how cute you looked when you were happy. Shortly followed by concern that a federal agent would so readily eat unmarked food that could have been tampered with. That’s something I should bring up to her on the date. 

     Spencer’s stomach was in knots not knowing if you would pick up on the message. You swallowed that chunk of the muffin and turned the bag over to find an almost illegible black script that you had nearly missed: Would you like to have coffee with me? It just felt like all of the air had been knocked out of your body. 

     It didn’t even take you half a second to know who this was from; there were so many tells it was Spencer. Before you even noticed the note, you knew it was from him when you saw what was inside the bag. The whole team knew what your favorite coffee shop was because you had talked about it enough times. Hell, you even owned a oversized tee with their name on it that you kept in your go bag as a sleep shirt. But nobody knew what your favorite muffin was because you never mentioned it. In fact, if you thought about it there were maybe only a handful of times over the six months you’d been at the BAU that you even elected to eat this pastry in lieu of a real breakfast. But if anyone was going to detect a pattern, it would have been Dr. Reid. Of course he would pick up on the fact that you only picked those out at cafes when you felt like having a sweet treat, or that when Penelope brought in baked goods for the office you would only indulge if you saw your favorite item in the lineup. 

     You already knew it, but in case you had any doubt, the note itself confirmed your theory twice. One indicator was the phrasing choice would you as opposed to will you. Use of would posits a hypothetical, as in hypothetically, would you have an interest in drinking coffee together, rather than a hard, come with me to get coffee. The hesitance in the tone came off as if the sender were testing the waters, wanting to put the idea out there without coming off as too strong. Because it was reserved, it gave you room to think if you would genuinely enjoy doing so as opposed to making you feel like you should oblige. That level of respect screamed Spencer to you. And though it was so glaringly obvious, if you needed some concrete evidence it was the fact that nobody else had such endearingly atrocious handwriting like Dr. Reid. It was something you always found hilariously ironic for a man who often analyzes other people’s writing styles for work. You wondered what his way of scribbling said about him, and hoped he could tell you on that date of yours. 

     You looked straight at him, finding that his eyes were already fixed on you.

     “Yes.” 

     One word was all you had to say to make the lump in Spencer’s throat disappear, replaced by the sensation that his heart was leaping out of his chest. He was going to keep that memory stored in his brain forever, just to replay the moment when the future of your relationship changed with a simple word. Little did he know that when you finished that muffin, you neatly folded the pastry bag and tucked it into your desk drawer, saving it for the exact same purpose. 

_____

     Spencer had gotten to see your favorite coffee spot already, so for your date you requested that he take you to his to make it even. It was small, but incredibly cozy under the soft ambiance provided by string lights and charm of their mismatched furniture. There was one exposed brick wall adjacent to another that was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf; it housed copies that loyal patrons left behind for others to pick up. All of those books had different colors of post-its peeking out from the pages. It was almost too eclectic and disorganized for what you would expect Dr. Reid to be into, but at the same time it made perfect sense to you.

     “You know, I think I just learned something about you.” You leaned gently into his side to tell him, both hands wrapped around your coffee cup because you were too nervous to know what else to do with them. Spencer was the kind of guy to sit adjacent to you at a table, rather than across, and you loved that about him. You loved having him as close to you as possible. 

     Spencer’s lips pulled at the edges to form a perfect, lazy smile. “What did you learn about me?” The team had an agreement not to profile each other, but under your gaze, Spencer never felt the kind of scrutiny that came with picking people apart. He trusted that whatever you had to say was going to be kind.

     “I think this place says so much about you. Something about how all those books are donations passed on from locals, and that people feel comfortable taking a book off the shelf and opening it up to read what others recommend. The fact that they leave little notes in it for the next reader to share what those stories meant to each of them. Nobody asked those people to do that, but they all chose to take part in these small actions that ended up creating an entire community.” It was one of the most beautifully human things you’d ever witnessed. A group of people engaging in understated and innocent gestures of love between perfect strangers, completely unprompted. “I think you value simple acts, the kind that can take on profound meaning without even intending to. Like when silence feels so comfortable when you’re with the right person.” You paused to take in his reaction as a gauge for how right or wrong you may be. He gave no objection to what you had posited, eyes simply glued to you in intense focus. Spencer was hanging on everything you said, wordlessly encouraging you to divulge more theories you’d developed on him.

     “And, visually, this furniture reminds me of a family home. The kind where some items were handed down for generations, some bought new, and others gifted by a distant relative who has no idea what the family likes.” Spencer’s soft laughter mirrored your own at your very accurate description of the shop’s decor. The room truly could not be more disjointed in its aesthetic, but that was entirely its charm. “It probably reflects that there are some aspects of your life that just don’t make sense to you, that almost seem to conflict with each other. For a guy so smart, I’m sure it’s scary to feel like you don’t understand something, and there are probably dark spots in that brain of yours that you try to hide from the world. But in this room, these things that don’t seem like they work together actually amount to something so lovely. And just like the charmingly hideous suede couch and the oddly fur-covered armchairs, every facet of you deserves appreciation because without them you wouldn’t make up to be the beautiful person you are overall.” 

     Neither of you could pinpoint the moment which your hands had drifted together, fingers loosely intertwined in gentle embrace. There was too much to unpack in what you had said for Spencer to know where to begin. The only thing he could say for sure was that he was astounded by how deeply you understood him without him ever saying any of those things. He considered that maybe you understood him better than he did himself and wished that he could spend his whole life observing the world through the same rose-tinted lenses with which you viewed him. At a loss for words, Spencer chose not to say any right then. The silence I have with you is the most comfortable I’ve ever had. 

_____

     After each of you consumed one too many caffeinated beverages, you still were not prepared to let the date end. You were willing to sit there and have as many espresso drinks as you could to keep talking to Spencer. 

     The universe must have been in support of your romance as the overcast skies broke and began to rain just minutes after the two of you had left the shop. Spencer was walking you back to your apartment, clearly forcing his long legs to slow down their naturally fast stride so to extend how long it took to get there. He could get an extra thirteen minutes with you this way. Spencer was given his perfect excuse to keep the date going in the form of heavy downpour; his apartment was far closer than yours, and he proposed you two should seek shelter together until it stopped. I hope it never stops. 

     Spencer held tightly onto your hand as he ran with you through the rain, giggling all the way to his apartment. He may not like wet, cold climates, but he sure did like holding your hand. Being next to you made him feel incredibly warm somehow when the temperature outside was very much not. And you felt completely at peace sitting on Spencer’s couch wearing one of his sweaters that he lent you. Truthfully, your own clothes weren’t so wet from the rain that it was necessary, but you both pretended it absolutely was just to be able to experience this. 

     It was clear that the rain would be going for a while and all you wanted to do to pass the time was continue listening to Spencer talk. You discovered that when he’s not interrupted, he loves to go on runaway tangents, often bouncing between different trains of thought as one idea sparked him to remember another. It was almost a sport to keep up with him, but it was perhaps the only one you’ve ever enjoyed. It was so easy when everything he said interested you. You loved that Spencer taught you something new every day, but no matter how niche a piece of trivia or shocking an unknown fact was, it could not beat the things that he taught you about himself. He was letting you in on so many unseen dimensions of himself whether he knew it or not, the explicit ones revealing implicit ones. 

     You had happily stayed in his home for hours, absorbing every word he spoke. What entertained you the most was the ability of your conversation to jump from deep, serious places to lighthearted stories filled with jokes and teasing and back again in a way that felt completely natural. Your favorite anecdote of his was the story of how he got addicted to coffee. It was the BAU’s favorite inside-joke that Spencer liked his coffee sickeningly sweet and you always wondered how he could tolerate it. Just looking at it made your teeth ache. When he told you why, you thought that the backstory was even sweeter than the coffee.

     As a twelve year old college student, Spencer found himself experiencing sleep deprivation for the first time in his life. The course load was more rigorous than he had in high school and even the boy genius needed to readjust to the new expectations of college. More importantly, he needed to cope with pulling late nights at the library if he wanted his first degree by the time he was eligible for a driver’s license. The Red Bulls that the other kids seem to gravitate to seemed far too aggressive for Spencer, their potent smell of chemicals a huge turn off. They were definitely not for him. 

     He remembered how often his mom used to drink coffee, always in the morning while Spencer got ready for school. Being at CalTech and away from his mother, who remained in Las Vegas most of the time due to her condition, made him so homesick that he took up a coffee habit as a reminder of her. He loved the way it smelled like every comfort he had ever known. 

     Though he appreciated its smell, Spencer, of course, was not ready back then to love the way it tasted. He was still after all a twelve year old boy who had a sweet tooth like any other kid. The bitter drink was almost offensive to him, so he always made his coffee with extra, extra sugar. He was a menace to the baristas at the campus coffee cart because they would have to refill the shaker every time he stopped by. As it turned out, Spencer was actually a little troublemaker in his youth. 

     You utterly adored this story and the way it humanized Spencer in a way that other people did not consider often enough. Yes, he was the genius in incredibly advanced classes for his age, but he was also a little kid who behaved as all little kids did. He also experienced struggle and had to cope with it just like everyone else. He was not, as some chose to believe, a complete anomaly beyond understanding. Those many misunderstood idiosyncrasies Spencer had started to feel grounded as you learned more about him and could appreciate how and why they came to be.  

     But the night was dwindling down and two of you had gone through many stories since the start of your day together. Hitting a caffeine crash, you found yourself unable to keep some rogue yawns at bay. It was only eight o’clock in the evening, not an unreasonable time for you to ask Spencer to drive you back home. The rain was letting up to a mellow drizzle. Spencer was running out of excuses to keep you here.

     But you thought about how still hadn’t heard about his first pet lizard, which he caught in his backyard, and you didn’t yet know what kind of music he listened to when he was fourteen. And you no longer thought you needed to make excuses to stay with him longer, so you told him honestly that all you really wanted was to stay the night with him and keep hearing his stories. So you asked him if he would set on a fresh pot of coffee, just so you both could sip at it, staying awake all night together.

     He happily did so, and while he set the large coffee pot on and took out two cups from his cabinet, he thought, this is the first of many wishes of yours that I’d like to make come true.

______

PART THREE

Tag list: @rexorangecounty @rachel-voychuk @snitchthewitch @spencer-blake-supremacy @happyreid187 @rainsong01 @librarymagic 

[seokjinsonlyone]

fall into your blu

pairing: seokjin x female reader

summary: “You don’t have to look like Beyoncé for me to be attracted to you.”

genre: friends to lovers; fluff; slow burn? kinda

warnings: there’s like a brief joking mention of booty calls; oc is like securely insecure; not much else really lol

rating: pg

wc: 7.1k

“I’m sorry I can’t... accept... this?” She winced, closing the door behind him. Felt kind of bad for not letting him get more than five feet into her place before shooting him down. She just didn’t want to have this conversation outside her building. Felt worse for referring to his confession as if it were a dirty gym sock.

His face fell. “Why not?” She doesn’t know what he thought would happen in this situation honestly. They’ve been friends for a good few years. Jin’s seen what she’s like when these kinds of things happen. 

“Because I’m not pretty,” she stated plainly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which, to her, it was. 

“You are,” he refuted.

“I’m not.” She wasn’t. She consumed enough media and spent enough time around actual pretty people in her lifetime to note the difference.

“You are to me.”

And well, okay, she wasn’t going to argue with him. Wasn’t any point in that. “But, like, I’m not, and I mean that’s fine for me. Like I accepted it a while ago, but it’s not fine for you.” 

And it was fine. Not being pretty wasn’t the end of. It didn’t make her any less valuable as a person. In fact, it helped her develop a top tier personality. Also, less people bothered her and she didn’t have to worry about anyone having high expectations for her simply because of her appearance. Sure, she cried over her lack of physical beauty every few months, but who didn’t? Such was life as a twenty something.

 “Are you saying this because you don’t like me? You can just tell me if you don’t.” He asked, narrowing his eyes at her, trying to read between the lines of her statement. There wasn’t anything underlying it, though.

“I mean... honestly I can’t say that I’ve put too much thought into us, like, together. But that’s, mainly because you’re out of my league.” Sure when they first met sometimes he’d smile at her and her heart would drop or her stomach would erupt with butterflies when he texted her, but she never let it get much further than that. Nipped it right in the bud. There was no point in a two pining over a ten. Okay, she didn’t see herself quite as a two. On her best days, she was a solid five maybe a five and a half with confidence but still. So, she settled into the role of friend easily and she liked it there. There was no ambiguity, she didn’t have to torture herself trying to analyze every little thing he did and said to her because there was no possibility of more. Until now, she guessed.

“I’m literally not?” He was. 

“You are though.” Jin opened his mouth but she shook her head explaining further. “Objectively speaking, you’re very handsome and you’re a good dude on top of that. We’re friends right?”

He nodded hesitantly.

“Okay and friends should push each other to do better. which is why I can’t accept... your feelings?” She couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that he could possibly want to be anything other than friends. She couldn’t believe they were actually friends. The only time she was friends with straight males were when they were friends with her pretty friends and thus were forced into spending time with her and realized she was actually cool aside from, like, not being pretty. “You can get someone who’s hot and a good person.”

“What if I don’t want someone who’s hot and a good person?”

“Then you’re stupid,” she snorted. “I want someone who’s hot and a good person.”

“You literally just said I was both of those things.”

“Yeah, but that’s unrealistic. What would we look like walking next to each other holding hands?”

“A couple.”

She curled her lips at him. “Yeah, a couple of clowns.”

His lips dropped into a small pout clearly unamused with her line of reasoning, which again was very confusing seeing as she was spitting facts. The logic was impenetrable. “I’m being serious,” he whined, “ It took a lot to work up the courage to say something, and you’re kind of breaking my heart.”

And, well she didn’t want that. Like, she didn’t do feelings. Most days she’d rather die than emote, but she ain’t want to break his heart. She sighed, sitting on the couch and running her hands down her face, decidedly tucking her humor-coated defense mechanism away and tried to level with him. “I just don’t understand where all this is coming from?” 

Which wasn’t the entire truth. She noticed he was acting a bit different toward her, a little more soft (lending her his jacket and tucking her underneath his arm when she was cold), a tad more vulnerable (sometimes when she asked the classic ‘how are you?’ he actually told her instead of responding ‘i’m fine’), a bit more thoughtful (when she was over his place the other day and was feeling a bit peckish he had some of her favorite snacks, even the ones he didn’t particularly care for. She looked at him like he had grown a second head, but he shrugged it off with a ‘you like it, don’t you?’). So, she can’t say this is all completely coming from left field, but she genuinely didn’t expect a confession. Didn’t expect him to grab her hand before she could go inside after dropping her off from their day out and tell her “I like you. I like you so much.”

Absently, she wonders if their outing had been some sort of ‘not date’ date. Now that she was thinking about it, they’d been spending a lot of time together just the two of them lately. The first few times when he invited her out she’d come expecting at least a few of their other friends to be with him, but didn’t really think much of their absence. She enjoyed his company and didn’t want him to think otherwise. 

She also wonders if she had been subconsciously leading him on. She never actually rejected any of his advances, if that’s what they actually were. When he wrapped his arm around her, she leaned into his touch. It was, it was odd, but not unwelcome because she was cold. When he confided in her, she listened and tried her best to be comforting and boost him up. As a friend, she felt that was her obligation. When he bought her snacks or paid for her meals, she didn’t put up too much of a fight because well a) free food and b) she treated more than a few times.

“You don’t have to look like Beyoncé for me to be attracted to you.”

She stared at him blankly. He had a point there. Even though she wasn’t anything to write home about and despite her earlier declaration that she wanted someone who was hot, she definitely had crushes on a few people who were worse for wear to say the least. She also knew that if he was here telling her about anyone else, Beyoncé or not, she’d be happy telling him to go for it. But, it wasn’t anyone else. It was her. And, her brain was quite literally short circuiting at the thought of him… and her… them… together. 

Her silence was perturbing him. She could tell by the way he forced a smile onto his face and stood up. “Hey, look, don’t worry about it. It’s, it’s fine. I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

But, she wasn’t worried about that. She knew they’d be okay. They had the same personality type. They were very similar in many ways. She knew that if she really wasn’t for it, they’d still be friends. She would give him a little space, and if they happened to be brought together through their mutual friends she’d ignore whatever crush he’d allowed himself to develop and pretend everything was fine. Jin would deal with his feelings privately and put on a smile in front of her. It might be a bit awkward for a while, but they’d be okay. She knew that. It’s why she reached out her hand, interlocking their fingers, to stop him before he walked away. 

“Hey, don’t– don’t go. I mean, you can if you want to, but like–“ What was she trying to say? If you looked into her brain it’d probably resemble that one episode of spongebob when all the files got thrown out trying to figure out fine dining and everything was up in flames. The little hers running around her mind didn’t know what to do. She took a deep breath. “Like I said before, I haven’t really thought about us, but I’m not… opposed to it.”

His shoulders slouched and he released a breath looking back down at her, squeezing her palm. “Okay, okay, that’s good. A chance is all I’m asking for.” He shot her a small smile, then flicked her forehead.  “I’ll still go, though. Let you get a head start on thinking. I know it takes you a while.”

Her jaw dropped feeling utterly scandalised. “I changed my mind. I don’t even wanna be friends anymore.”

“Pffftttt. You wouldn’t be able to live without me.”

She scoffed in return. “Yeah right. In your dreams.”

“Yes, you are.” He dropped a wink and spun out the door.

She stared blankly in his wake. Did he just admit to dreaming about her? 

She sank down further in the bathtub, face being the only thing left unsubmerged. Well, her face and like the entirety of her legs. They were leant against the wall of the shower. She wasn’t tall by any means, but her tub definitely was not meant for the soaking she liked to do. 

Despite being young, she felt like she inhabited the body of someone twice her age and could honestly lay semi conscious in hot water (nearing cool by the time she got out) until you couldn’t distinguish her from a dried date. She also just liked being in the bathroom because it was the only place she was truly alone and disconnected. Well, her phone was always an arms length away because not having her phone nearby gave her anxiety and not every time she entered a bathroom did she want to be left to her thoughts. Too much time in her mind was detrimental to her mental well-being. 

However, she had a lot to dissect tonight. She thought taking a bath would calm her down and while it did help channel her thoughts a bit, it did nothing to stop the fluttering in her heart. It was nice to know that she was liked. That someone saw something in her she didn’t see in herself. It also helped that said person was one of the most objectively handsome people she’s ever seen. But, that’s what worried her the most. It was fine that he liked her. It would be fine if that was all it was. If she could live in this purgatory of being liked, of having his attention no strings attached she would. She held the upper hand. He essentially handed his heart over to her while hers was still firmly beating in her own chest. But, what would happen if she started to reciprocate his feelings? If she gave him her heart in return?

Because the thing is, she knows it would be easy to give into him. It was easy being his friend. They just clicked in all the right places. It’s not like they were super close. Like, they’d definitely grown closer over the last few months, enthralling each other in late night text conversations and sending so many voice messages one could argue that they’d might as well been on a phone call (that consumed a very different level of social energy they both rarely could expel tho), but again it wasn’t the fear of losing him that made her hesitate. It was the fear of losing herself. If she gave herself over to him fully and somewhere along the line he decided he didn’t want her, it’d devastate her. She could almost see the heartbreak, the loss of self esteem, the ongoing existential crises from there. It was scary. 

And it’s not like she thought Jin would intentionally hurt her because she didn’t; she trusted him. He was very honest and sincere. It was something she greatly admired about him. He was soft in all the places she was hard. Rounded in all the places she was sharp, and it made her grateful that life was kind of enough to grant him such privileges. Life hadn’t been as kind to her. When you grow up not being pretty on top of lacking social skills on top of having uncommon interests, things tend to be a bit different, more difficult. 

Still, she wondered when would she ever get this opportunity again? It’d taken this long for one to arise, who knows if another chance would ever come.  And as much as she liked to think about each and every way this situation could go wrong she owed it to Jin, to herself, to think about what could happen if things went right. Typically hope and expectations were squashed down immediately. It was the number one way to play yourself, but just this once she allowed her mind to wander to the optimism deep within.

Them as a couple seemed a bit far fetched from a bird’s eye view, but personally she could kind of see them together. She could see herself happy with him and vice versa. Could almost make out him staring at her in adoration. Maybe they could be in love. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself. But maybe. Just maybe, it might work. 

She felt strange. In a good way. Kind of like she unlocked some sort of hidden secret to life. She felt normal. And, it’s not like she was some kind of weird, misfit, loner. She was cool. She had a good group of friends. She had acquaintances. Her coworkers all liked her and they bonded over their mutual dissatisfaction with their place of employment. But, she’d never had whatever this was. Sure, she’s been the object of a few people’s affections but never ones she would ever think about looking twice at. In turn, she’s had a few crushes who didn’t look in her direction. This was different though, Jin was looking at her and he was… definitely in her peripherals.

It wasn’t as if years of repressed feelings came rushing to the surface when he told her he liked her because they genuinely weren’t like that. But, the more she toyed with the idea the more appealing it sounded. She couldn’t allow herself to dive head first though. She needed to be sure this was real. It’s why she texted him after a few days of very little interaction, only signs of life in the videos she sent him from tiktok and his phone generated reactions.

[6:42pm] y/n: you up? 👀

She tried to be as casual as possible, but she’d never been this nervous texting him before. A little afraid he’d rescind his confession.

[6:45pm] jinnie from the block: it’s not even 7 why wouldn’t i be up

[6:47pm] y/n: ion know 🤷‍♀️ i heard old people go to sleep early

[6:47pm] y/n: have dinner round bout 4 and sleep by the time sun sets

[6:48pm] jinnie from the block: omg i’m not that much older than you

[6:48pm] jinnie from the block: anyway what’s up? this a booty call??

She nearly dropped her phone on her face.

[6:48pm] y/n: JIN ADSFLJADSFLJ

[6:48pm] y/n: have some decency booty call hours are between 10pm and 3am

[6:49pm] y/n: ion make them kinds of propositions in the light of day 😤🤚

[6:49pm] y/n: no omg i just wanted to know if you wanted to grab lunch tomorrow?

[6:51pm] jinnie from the block: booty ✍️  call ✍️ between ✍️ 10 ✍️  and ✍️ 3 ✍️. Got it.

[6:52pm] jinnie from the block: you asking me out on a date??? 👁👄👁

Her brain short circuited once again. Was she asking him out on a date? She didn’t think she was. She might’ve been. She was going to tell him that she was going to give him the chance he asked for. Things would change a little after that, wouldn’t they? They’d be like seeing each other. She was probably making this a bigger deal than it needed to be. She could tell she definitely was when he texted her again after she failed to respond for five minutes.

[6:57pm] jinnie from the block: hey sorry i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable

[6:58pm] jinnie from the block: i was just joking. it doesn’t have to be a date 

[7:01pm] y/n: lol no ur fine that was fine i’m just being 🤠😃🤡

[7:02pm] y/n: i mean it’s not not a date

[7:02pm] y/n: like what really is a date 🧐

[7:03pm] y/n: according to google it’s a social or romantic appointment or engagement so i guess technically it is a date

[7:04pm] jinnie from the block: sweet ❤️ where we going

Now she was standing in front of the place they’d arranged to meet up, telling herself to calm down. No need to be feeling lightheaded at the sight of Jin. It was just her friend who liked her. Her friend that could be her boyfriend in a few weeks. It was fine. Everything was fine. She decidedly squashed the majority of those feelings down and entered the building. She was already ten minutes late, but he should’ve known by now that time was relative to her.

She circled her head around the area trying to spot him. She for sure saw his car in the lot. It didn’t take long to find him seated in a booth at the far corner of the restaurant. Was a wave a sufficient greeting? Was she supposed to hug him? A handshake would be weird, right? Why was she so unfamiliar with the protocol for this situation? So caught up in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized she already approached the table and was hovering awkwardly next to it. 

He scrunched his face up at her. “Don’t be weird about it. Sit down.”

“I’m not being weird about it.” She was. But, like, now she didn’t know where to sit. Across from him? That left room for a lot of eye contact. Did she want that? Sitting next to him felt rather intimate though. She didn’t get to make that decision as Jin rolled his eyes and pulled her down into the spot next to him then flicked her head. She let out a small squeak at the action. “Why you keep doing that?”

“Because you keep being weird.”

“I’m cooler than you,” she scoffed. 

“Are you?”

“Yes,” she bit back before retracting her answer, giggling. “No. Well, maybe. See you act weird and then apologise for it. I never apologise for my weird behaviour.”

He raised one brow at her. “And that makes you cooler than me?”

“Uh, yah. In movies, the cool girl is always the one who’s quirky and never apologises for being so.”

“Mhm. Okay,” he said dismissively, beginning to peruse the menu. “If you could be in a movie, which one would you be in?”

“A bug’s life,” she replied immediately.

His eyes widened, looking down at her. “No hesitation? A Bug’s Life? Have you been waiting to be asked this your whole life?”

She shrugged. “No, it was just the first movie that popped into my head. I’ll stick to it, though. You got an innovative social outcast who brings together a ragtag bunch of misfits who end up starting and winning a class war and saving their people from subsequent oppression. Overthrowing the bourgeoisie? Now that’s what I’ve been waiting my whole life to do.”

He chuckled. “I can’t believe you just used the word ragtag.”

“Using the word ragtag is also something I’ve been waiting my whole life to do. There are surprisingly little opportunities to use it. You know what else there is surprisingly little of? Quicksand.”

From there they launched into conversation about any and everything. She was talking so much, so animatedly that she barely touched her food. She’d take a bite every now and then when he tapped her plate with his utensils, but he ultimately picked at her food more than she did, stealing small bites in between her musings on various conspiracy theories. It wasn’t rare for her to not eat while engaged in conversation, but it was rare for her to be engaged so deeply in conversation outside her really close girl friends. She took a mental note at the fact and added it to the ever growing list of reasons why being with him wouldn’t be so bad. 

At some point, she’d begun to turn towards him, so much so that by the time she’d gotten a to-go box for the rest of her meal that she was nearly completely facing him. He was listening to her ramble on about straws being a cash grab by the fast food industry with his elbow on the table, head propped up on his hand, a small smile gracing his face when he reached for her hair sweeping a few strands that escaped from the mass of curls she had pinned back away from her eye. She stopped talking instantly, mind going blank. She ain’t never had her hair swept back, her face gently caressed by a man.

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not,” she protested, face heating up further.

“You are.” 

She wanted to knock the amused smirk off his face. Retribution would come at some point. “I’m brown. You can’t tell if I’m blushing.”

He snorted. “It’s written all over your face and,” he pressed a palm to her cheek, “your cheeks are on fire.”

She smacked his hand away. “They’re not. I’m just naturally hot blooded.” That was a lie. They both knew it.

“You’re anemic. You are the coldest person I know. You cry when the weather drops below 70.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, hiding her face in her hands. It was in her moment of shame, unintentionally expressing feelings, that she remembered the whole reason they were there in the first place. She always forgot herself once she got started up on the bourgeoisie. Still, she was unsure how to approach the topic. She wrestled back and forth for a few seconds before mentally shrugging. Direct was probably best. They were both grown. “So… you like me?”

He gulped, seemingly nervous at the shift in topic. “Hey, listen, like I said don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

“I mean… if you want me to forget about it I will. Otherwise, I was willing to worry about it.” 

His eyes widened at you, catching your gaze before looking downwards. “Really?”

She smacked his arm, sliding out of the booth and grabbing the bag holding her food which he took out of her hand after he slid out. “What? You think I’m mean or something?” To be fair she was a little mean, but she wasn’t cruel. “You think I would sit here and have lunch with you if I was gonna tell you to leave me alone after?”

“I don’t know! You were calling me bro this whole time. I thought you were preparing me for the friendzone!”

She rolled her eyes. “Bro, I call everyone bro.”

“That’s not true. You call children honey,” he corrected, holding the door open for her.

She pursed her lips at him. It was weird to know that Jin had been actively perceiving her. Like he just knew stuff about her. And it’s not like she didn’t know anything about him; they’d been friends for a while. But, she didn’t pay special attention to things like how he addressed children. It made her feel… something. “What? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. It’s just…” she gesticulated wildly trying to figure out the right words to say. “I don’t know. It’s weird that you notice me. That you like me. Nobody likes me.”

“My name’s Seokjin actually,” he joked. She rolled her eyes. “Besides I’ve been noticing you for a while, there’s a lot to like,” he admitted, voice softening.

Her heart squeezed in her chest. She liked the way he made her feel. It was scary, but she liked it. She liked it so much that she threw caution to the wind and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked side by side. She could feel him burning a whole into the side of her face, but she refused to make eye contact. She was acting so out of character. She was going to have a serious chat with herself later. “Don’t be weird about it,” she mimicked.

He giggled but stopped staring at her so she guessed it was alright. “You into PDA?”

“Ummm… I don’t think so? It doesn’t seem like something I’d be very into. I mean, this is okay,” she answered, swinging their conjoined hands slightly before tacking on, “Is this– is this okay for you?” and looking up timidly. 

“This is okay for me,” he confirmed, squeezing her hand. “You’re so cute. You try to act all icy like you’re the abominable snowman, but really you’re just bigfoot.”

“I can’t believe you just called me cute and bigfoot in the same sentence.”

“Well, you’re definitely not a normal creature.”

“But, why I gotta be a cryptid?”

“What would you prefer to be?”

She mulled it over for a few moments. “Nah. You’re right bigfoot works for me. A myth and a legend is what I strive to be.”

“It’s what you already are.”

She smiled to herself as they continued walking. She didn’t know where they were going seeing as they both drove but didn’t speak up. She liked this. Liked how normal everything felt. They were like how they always were except now they held hands and flirted a little. It was nice. 

“Hey,” he said a few minutes later, pulling her from her thoughts, loosening his grip on her hand and opening the door to an ice cream shop. Hmmm. A man with a plan. Nice. “You wanna go to Jimin’s later? He invited me yesterday.”

“Is Jungkook gonna be there?” She asked absentmindedly, filling her cup with various flavours.  

“Why?”

“He’s my little brother, and I love him.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “He’s six months older than you and Korean.”

“First of all, families can look however they want. It’s what’s on the inside the counts. Has Lilo and Stitch taught you nothing? Ohana means family,” she countered, sitting at one of the tables. “Second, age is a social construct.”

“Alright, I can let you slide on your first point, but age is not a social construct.”

“It is, though. Think about it. What is one year? The time it takes the earth to revolve around the sun. The earth was just in a slightly different position than it was when he was born from when I was born. Think about it in terms of light years. 1 light year is about 5.9 trillion miles. The earth travels about 584 million miles around the sun. Cut that in half and you get 292 million miles. Which is like 5 hundredths of 1 light year. Scale that down and you’re literally sitting further than how much older Jungkook is than me.”

He stared blankly at her. “You say so much nonsense on a regular basis that I forget how smart you are. But, also it’s impressive how you’re able to say such nonsense in such an intelligent manner.”

“It’s part of my charm.”. 

He shook his head. “Anyway, Jungkook?”

“He owes me $10. Keeps asking me to buy him snacks or adding his stuff to mine when we go to the convenience store. If he’s there, I plan to attack.” He hummed in response. “What about Yoongi? And before you ask me why, it’s because he’s my soulmate.”

“I hate to break it to you babe, but Yoongi is my soulmate.”

“I beg to differ.”

“I don’t. I’ve known him longer.”

She scoffed. “Okay, and? In most dramas they introduce the second male lead first. You just paved the way for me homie.”

“You and Yoongi are the same person and therefore cannot be soulmates.”

She paused mid bite. “That’s fair. I guess he can be my duplicate and your soulmate. I would say he’s my twin, but he already banned me from calling him that.”

“So, you in?”

“Mmm… I guess.” A thought suddenly occurred to her. “What are we gonna do about–“ she gestured between the two of them, “Like, I mean I know this is like, brand new, fresh from the womb. But–“

“They know,” he breathed out through a laugh, ending her rambling.

“They know?” Her eyebrows shot up. They knew? Was she the only one in their group oblivious to his feelings? 

“Well, they know everything up until what happened today. You mad?” he asked, obviously worried at the possibility of upsetting her.

She wasn’t particularly nosy. Wouldn’t have pried too much even if she suspected something was up. Still she didn’t like being out the loop. But, she guessed she was the most in the loop now, so there wasn’t really anything to be upset about now. Only thing she could hope for is that whatever they were doing worked out. It’d be humiliating otherwise. “Nah. Those are your boys. I get it.” 

He was allowed to talk to them about his life even if it did involve her. Even if they were friends as well. She would eventually tell her girls. She was just a bit emotionally stunted and unnecessarily private so it took longer to open up about her life. She would tell them sometime soon. Or they would find out from one of the guys and be cornered into spilling everything. Whichever came first. That was, if this even amounted to anything.

She hoped it did.

Thirty minutes before she was supposed to get off, she sent a text to Jin letting him know she definitely would not be getting off in thirty minutes. It sucked because she hadn’t seen him in a week, and they were supposed to be going on a date tonight. There was no way, though, that she could leave her department in good conscience. She just added it to the ever growing list of frustrations that had been piling up. 

Today was the third day in a row her coworkers left the entire day’s work for her during the night. How could two people waste eight hours (sixteen total) doing absolutely nothing? She didn’t like to work herself but she did it because that was what she was being paid to do. She did it because she hated for others to be left with an overwhelming amount of tasks. Apparently, she was the only one who shared such a sentiment in her department. 

To add insult to injury she also hadn’t slept very well that night, she didn't get a chance to eat or drink today, and she missed Jin. She took a deep breath, pushing away the burning sensation building behind her eyes and kept moving.

Within five minutes of entering her home, she was in the shower eager to wash the day away. She sighed deeply as the hot water hit her shoulders, cascading down the rest of her body. It allowed her to get rid of the thoughts of work. She didn’t like to bring it home physically or mentally. What happened happened. Knowing her coworkers it would probably happen again. She truly liked them as people but sometimes their work ethic made her want to strangle them. 

Now her main concern was Jin. They’d been dating for a little over a month and a half. Or, well, seeing each other. Things still hadn’t been labelled. They went on dates though. Was that considered dating? She made a mental note to google dating. Either way, she missed him. A lot. More than she thought she would. And, it’s not like they saw each other every single day, but seven consecutive days was a lot. She’s kind of grateful for it though. It made her realize how much she liked him. Up until now, she was still approaching everything surrounding him with a healthy level of skepticism. Feeling him out. Feeling herself out. Trying to see if continuing down this road was really worth it. If it was something she truly wanted not because she liked to be liked but because she liked him. 

And, she did. So much. Before he was just her very chaotic friend. Her go-to for group shenanigans. But when she really paid attention to him, there was just so much to like. She liked how he texted her good morning and good night every day. First, she thought it was corny. Asked him why he was texting her like her grandma only for her heart to end up in a puddle when he told her he had to let her know he was thinking of her when he first woke up and just before he went to sleep. She liked how respectful he was of her boundaries (even when she didn’t necessarily want him to be). “I know I have a bit of a head start, so I’m sorry if that was too much. I don’t want to rush you,” he’d apologized a few weeks ago after kissing her cheek while dropping her home. It caught her a bit off guard, yeah, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Like at all. And yeah she did still like how chaotic he was. Liked how he helped her beat up Jungkook that one night (she didn’t really want any money back. She never minded buying him snacks here and there. Just didn’t want him to know that and get too comfortable. Had to keep the upper hand for the big sister agenda). He was still her best friend and she liked that. 

She planned on telling him as much tonight, which was why this turn of events was so upsetting. Deep down she knew that a few more days wouldn’t be so bad. It wasn’t a life or death situation. It would be fine. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that. But, as it stood none of her basic needs were being met and her day was awful and she just couldn’t bring the little optimism that lived deep, deep, deep down within her to the surface. So, it was with a heavy heart that she got dressed following her shower and began her daily stare down with the contents of her refrigerator.

She has no idea why she didn’t stop and get food before she came home. She knew she ain’t have anything. Can’t imagine why she thought ‘the food at the crib’ (rotting spinach, a tangerine, and cranberry-grape juice) was gonna sustain her. A whine bubbled up in her throat and the burning sensation behind her eyes returned with a vengeance. She was seconds away from unloading the emotional baggage the week packed onto her, when a knock sounded at the door.

Quickly, she swallowed back all her feelings and prayed whoever decided to show up would be quick lest they be subject to her breakdown. Yet, it was precisely the person at the door who launched her breakdown into full speed.

Jin. With takeout.

She was so overcome with emotion at the sight of him that she immediately burst into tears. She made it a point not to cry too often because it was an ordeal for her. Her eyes got all red and puffy and she got a headache then she needed to sleep. An ordeal. Probably because when she cried she tended to cry for her past, present, and future; but that was a story for a therapy session she’d probably never go to. 

He quickly sat the food down on her coffee table and wrapped her in his arms as she gave way to tears. She cried for all the bad things she’d been going through. She cried for the week they spent apart. She cried for the awful day she had. She cried because her next shift would probably be just as bad. Unexpectedly, though, she also cried tears of relief. She was so relieved that Jin was there. She’s missed him so much. She was relieved he brought food because she was starving. She was relieved he cared about her at all. “What are you doing here?” she hiccuped out, attempting to even out her breathing and draw this crying spell to a close.

“I still wanted to hang out tonight,” he explained gently, “Also my spidey senses told me you hadn’t ate yet.”

She choked out a laugh, nuzzling her face further into his chest. Not quite ready to leave the cocoon she’d trapped herself in. She needed a moment to gather herself and her thoughts together because the urge to spill her guts was raging. She knew the second she looked into his eyes she’d be giving her heart to him. Also, she really enjoyed the way his hands rubbed circles on her back. 

They stayed huddled for a couple more minutes before she pulled back, looking up at him. He was so beautiful up close it was unreal. He brought his hands up from her waist, cupping her cheeks, wiping away a few stray tears with his thumb. “Don’t look at me like that. I know I look like a teletubby right now.”

“You actually look like Mrs. Puff.” 

She stuttered out another laugh, smacking his chest noting the wet patch she left. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

“It’ll dry.” He dropped his hands back down, this time settling upon her hips. “Are you okay? You wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head. Didn’t feel like rehashing her day. Would rather live in this moment. “Just a very long day and I– I, um–“ she gulped, forcing the words out “–I missed you.” She was on a roll now. Might as well get it all out there. “A lot. And… I really like you Seokjin. I’m sorry it took so long to say it. But, um, yeah I do. And, I want to be with you.”

Her eyes remained firmly fixed on his chest, heat washing over her form. Why did she feel so embarrassed right now? It’s not like he was going to reject her. Still, she refused to meet his gaze. That was until he lifted her chin with his finger. “I’m going to kiss you now.” Her eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights. “Don’t be weird about it,” he smiled, cupping her face with one hand and bringing the hand at her hip to her neck, pressing their lips together.

She knew it was coming. He literally announced it before he started kissing her, but it didn’t stop her entire body from tensing up the second as she felt the gentle pressure of his lips against hers. In fact, she felt herself astral projecting, soul hovering just outside of her body to confirm it was inhabiting the right person. Then, all at once she came back to herself and melted into his touch slowly bringing her arms to wrap around his waist. Why hadn’t they been doing this the whole time? When will she be able to do it again?

He gently sucked on her bottom lip for a few seconds before pulling away slightly leaving a series of pecks in his wake. He rested his forehead against hers as they broke apart. Her heart was beating so fast she felt like she was gonna throw up. Or cry. Or both. This probably wasn’t the best position for him. He had a good few inches on her. Still, she didn’t want to pop the bubble they’d created. That was until her stomach loudly rumbled doing exactly that. 

Her mind then became solely preoccupied with obtaining some form of sustenance. “What kind of food did you bring?” she asked, dropping to her knees in front of the coffee table where the abandoned takeout was sitting and rifling through the bags herself. “Chinese. Nice.”

He chuckled in disbelief. “That’s my girl.”

“So… you’re my boyfriend now,” she stated leaning back against the couch once her food tunnel vision widened out. Which was, like, kind of a big deal. She was never one to define relationships even if it was pretty obvious. Didn’t like to take the chance of being rejected. But, he’d put himself out there enough. She could do this one thing and she was like 87.2% sure they were on the same page. 

“It seems so.”

He wrapped an arm around her tugging her closer before pressing a kiss against her cheek. Warmth flooded through her system and her heart began to swell followed by a wave of mortification as she thought about what this really meant. “Bro, this is so embarrassing.”

“Hey!” he whined. The arm used to cuddle her was now being used to keep her in a headlock. 

“F in the chat for our fallen soldier.” She fake sniffled. “What am I supposed to tell Yoongi? We made a pact. We were supposed to die alone together.”

“Suddenly, I’m regretting this entire thing.”

“We have to put up an iron wall in front of the boys. I have a reputation to protect. They can’t know I feel.”

“We’ve been dating for almost 2 months already.” So, it was dating.

“Yeah, but they were being oddly nice about it,” she pouted. They were. They knew her. Knew this was way  out of her comfort zone and didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. And, they definitely didn’t want to do or say anything to mess this up for Jin. But, now that they were official she’s sure pandora’s box was about to be opened. Everything they’d been holding back was going to be unleashed. “It’s all over now. The teasing will be relentless.”

“I’m your boyfriend now. You’re my girlfriend. I’ll protect you,” he declared proudly.

She snorted. “Corny.” She loved it.