#cruel just reminds of how they care for each other no matter what they say to each other

[lisianpeia]

I got so excited listening to the playlists people shared that I actually made one. So here it is. I’ve never done this before XD

anyone know a good spones playlist?

[maskedbyghost]

Stalker

ex-husband Simon, your favorite stalker, a bit possessive, part two?

You can feel it, can’t you? Someone is watching. Every move you make...someone is there, lurking. It all started a few months ago, right after the divorce. Back then, you brushed it off, thinking it was just the loneliness, your senses playing a cruel joke with you. But now, you can’t ignore it anymore.

Oh, how you wish Simon were here to chase away the lurking shadows. But he made it clear—he doesn’t care anymore. If he did, you’d still be married.

Of course, he didn't use those exact words, he didn't even have to say anything, you just knew it based on his actions. Always working, stationed at the base, or off on some long mission. No texts, no calls, no signs that he missed you or regretted leaving you alone for so long.

What were you supposed to do—wait for him forever? Sleep in an empty bed, cook meals for one, celebrate anniversaries alone? No, thank you. If he wanted to, he would. Plain and simple.

You thought about it for a long time, and when you finally sent the divorce papers, hoping for even a hint of regret, he simply signed them and sent them back. Later, he told the lawyer you could keep everything. He didn’t even call to hear your reasons, which is for the best, probably, fuck him and the years you've spent together.

But now, as you feel someone watching you from across the street, you can’t help but wish Simon was still the man he used to be—the one who would have chased away anyone who dared to harm you.

But you’re not sure if your stalker wants to harm you, at least not yet. He always kept his distance until you found a bouquet of tulips, your favorite flowers, sitting in your kitchen. That’s when the fear set in. He had been inside your house, and the cameras didn’t catch a thing.

Next to the delicate petals, you found a note. It said: ‘You looked beautiful in that red dress last night. Too bad your date didn't appreciate it.’ As you read the words, a chill ran down your spine. Your friends had pushed you into that date with a guy who didn’t even call afterward, despite the evening going well. Now, you can’t shake the feeling that this stalker of yours had to do something with that.

Did he scare the guy off? Even if that was true, why hadn’t he approached you directly?

The note and the flowers only deepened your unease. You found yourself glancing over your shoulder every time you left the house, checking for shadows or strange movements. The feeling of being watched became almost unbearable.

Days passed, and the unease settled into a constant anxiety. You started checking the security footage obsessively, but it always showed nothing out of the ordinary. It was as if he had a way of slipping in and out of your life without leaving a trace.

Every day, a fresh set of flowers awaited you after work. Tulips, daisies, roses—all your favorites. Each bouquet was accompanied by a new note, but Mr. Stalker never stepped out of the shadows, never made direct contact with you.

'Just a little something to make you smile.'

'These flowers are a reminder: I’m always watching.'

'These flowers are just the beginning.'

'You’re mine in every way that matters.'

Those are just a few notes you got over the past two weeks. You even contacted the police, but their response was less than helpful. They claimed there was nothing they could do and dismissed it as the work of a shy admirer. But there was nothing shy about stealing your underwear, you thought. And yes, you had definitely noticed the absence of your underwear since this all began.

One night, as you were trying to wind down from another exhausting day, your phone rang with an unknown number. A sense of dread washed over you as you answered.

“Hello?” you said, your voice trembling. There was no response, just silence on the other end. You repeated, “Who is this? What do you want?” but the silence remained.

The call ended abruptly, leaving you feeling unsettled and anxious. Minutes later, your phone buzzed with a new message. You hesitated before opening it, your heart pounding. The message read: 'I just wanted to hear your beautiful voice.'

And now he has your number? You wondered if this was a new tactic to unsettle you further or if it was a sign that the stalker was becoming bolder.

In the days following the phone call, the messages continued, each one more personal than the last. 'You look beautiful with your hair down.'

Along with the messages, the stalker began sending gifts—more flowers, small trinkets, and sometimes even items that felt oddly personal, like a charm bracelet with an engraving of your initials. Each gift was accompanied by a note, one note even read, 'Soon, we’ll be together.' The fuck you will, you thought.

The gifts and messages weren’t the only signs of the stalker’s presence. A few times, you noticed a shadow moving outside your window—brief glimpses of a figure that vanished before you could get a clear look.

Tonight, you decided to take a walk to clear your mind. You quickly changed into comfortable clothes, grabbed your jacket, and checked that you had your phone and keys. As you reached for the door, you took a deep breath, hoping the fresh air would help you feel better. But when you opened the door, you were met with a sight that froze you in your tracks. Standing just outside your door, barely an arm's length away, was him. His presence was both shocking and surreal. He looked directly at you, a strange mixture of relief in his eyes.

"Hello, love."

"Simon?"

[sukioyakio]

“Use me then”- R. 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

PART TWO IS OUT

Sukuna hadn’t been the best person in your life,he was a dumb fuck and he knew that.He knew he shouldn’t have left you alone when you needed him the most.

When you were pregnant with his baby girl.He knew he fucked up.Moreover his whole life has been fucked up,finding his parents died in a young age and how he knew that violence was the thing that bring him a long way.

Foster home wasn’t just hell but a free for all,only those who are willing to make a name out of themselves will get to see a future themselves.He would have to learn that having feeling is just a useless thing.

After being heartbroken by someone he thought he could love,after being someone punching bag for entertainment and being beaten almost to death.Scars all over him with each of them being a reminder of how bad it was for him.

He didn’t get to live a normal life when he was younger constantly fighting for himself.He became more cruel and more cold,no longer giving a fuck about anyone else.

He knew that nothing he could make up for his own mistakes for treating like you did anything to deserve it.

You both knew each other from college but that not when you guys started dating,you started to date after a one and a half year later.

You fell for him despite of his frigid behavior.You wanted to prove that you would be the best girlfriend.You were just a hopeless romantic and you didn’t care about his cold behavior.

And he just accepted it to only used you for his benefits.

But no matter what you did he’ll just blocked you out and constantly being used.And when you guys did it,he forgot to put the condom on and so a week later you had called him when he was flirting with some other girl at a bar.

he just told you that he’ll come later.

While he was cheating with you with someone else,you were excited about it,to tell him about the future you had thought about.And how you couldn’t wait to be a mother.

But when you had open the front doors to your apartment,something in your gut told you that you weren’t going to like this talk but you were love sick idiot for him and completely ignored that feeling.

When you were talking about how your day went,being animated and all.He nonchalantly told you just to get to the point.

You had such a big smile on when you announced it. “I’m pregnant! Sukuna I’m having your baby,we’ll be parents”

You looked at him with warm smile to only see his eyebrows furrowed down in an utter disbelief.You said it again guessing that he didn’t hear you correctly but his face made a unreadable expression as he started to walk towards the door.

All in that moment you could almost hear the tearing sound of your heart being broken into pieces and it hurt.

“Sukuna?”

“Sukuna?”

“Sukuna!?”

“SUKUNA?!?”

You yelled at him while running after him grabbing his wrists pleading with him,cause you didnt know if you’ll be okay with just yourself supporting a baby.Your lips were trembling and your every breath was like it was venom had token your lungs.

Tears were flowing down your cheeks.And he just stood there with complete silence.You began to beg for him to talk,for you guys to talk about it together.

“Please don’t l-leave me , p-please” you choke on your tears.Red optics eye bore into her widened,watering eyes.Finally saying something to you.

“I think it just better to break up” He says that and nothing more and then snatched off his hand now walking away leaving you alone with hot painful tears flowing down your cheeks.

The only thing you heard was the sounds of his Shoes slowly getting quieter until it was just silence.Your heart right there summer in the depths of your chest broken by your vision of love.

It was a vast expanse of emptiness,where even the smallest sound wouldn’t dare not tread the silence. [*]

A few years later Sukuna was now more stable than before,Having a big success with his company.

Making collaboration with other big brands and marketers.Having multiple modeling teams to make sure of his presence is well known and that only made a fan base of him.He was making multiple big deals that people would only dream off.

He was particularly smart at making sure that his company wouldn’t go down anything time soon.Even after all this success in Japan he would still have much more work to accomplish in others countries but he doesn’t have to worry about that right now.

He now had everything that he never had when he was young and everything he’ll need.Every decision he made was to make it all work in the end.

Right?

But some wounds weren’t meant to heal and some will eventually hurt you more than others.

When he left you he thought that he would be the best for him and for you too.He didn’t want any of unavoidable feeling of love,it wouldn’t do anything but drag him. He already knew at some point he was going to break up with you sometime soon.

But your voice of pain still rings throughout his head after all these years.Sometimes even coming back as nightmares or some sorts.

He thought that maybe if he just have nights stands he would get over it.It irritated him for some reason.He didn’t need some extra feelings of you.

But nothing worked,and now he’s sit in his office at random point of time thinking about what was the gender of his baby.

But now he knows that he is the worst father ever to have.And he didn’t have to hear those words from anyone else to tell him that.The better thing to do is just to move forward and forget about it.

It was just a normal day walking around the city without the need of being followed or being bothered by the paparazzi or whatever the case would be.

The sun light shining the city with a bright golden glow making the city warm.And with the sun shining it’s companion with the wind breeze keeping citizens of Tokyo from dying from the heat.In perfect sense it was a great day to go out and enjoy the day off.

Multiple citizens walked through the streets of Tokyo the streets were filled with lifeness sparkling with color all around and people walking with a smile or with a sense of urgent need to get to a certain place.While Sukuna didn’t have any place to go to so he just walked throughout the city even the high crime rates part of Tokyo.

The only reason he wasn’t getting bothered was because he had a black washable dye and it work wonders and having his tattoos covered by makeup. No one recognize him.

Now he made his way towards a park,to get away from the crowd of people.His body walking down the entrance of it.Completely in his head space enjoying the scenery.Not minding the children running around with their sequels.

Until he heard a voice in the group of parents with their children who were playing or watching their children play.

A distant Laughter came through the group there;A laugh he knew too well.His legs taking him towards that voice without even noticing his actions. His large figure making it way to move around,his eyes looking around in such an intense manner.

His body froze,his mind going silent.As his almost blood like eyes widened.His heart slowly beating against his chest.

He spotted a child with striking pink long hair with such a radiant laughter,a young girl that is made his heart began to filled with warmth.

Something that he thought was meaningless.

Sukuna’s heart raced with uncertainty as he faced the unknowingly future.

He just stood there watching the girl with an urge to ask the girl question.Whether if the girl dyed the hair pink or did she ever get to see her dad or-And then you showed In his view.

“There you are,you little troll” you spoke with a playful voice,grabbing your daughter and swinging her around in the air.You were smiling so care carefullyfree,with the little spawn of joy giggling wildly.

“PffhaHahhaha!!Stop it mom!Your gonna get me dizzy if uou continue” The young girl says as her laughter danced through the air like a soft melody.

The world blurs itself out as he watches you.when he sees you he immediately knows that you were something that shouldn’t have been token so dryly;all the nights were you were there for him,all the love you spent on him and what did he gave you in return.

Nothing,nothing not even a small amount of time of love to you.You have every right to hate him for that.

There a lot of ‘what if’s’ in his mind but one thing is certain that he would’ve had a family.

He probably didnt know that he was looking at you guys to long.That was until your eyes meet his making eye contact.

Their stares remained interlocked, neither of them making a move to look away.It you could tell who is his even with all the disguise.Your eyes widened with disbelief as Your face turned into an icy expression.You turned your head now forcing yourself to walk forward paying attention to your daughter that was in your arms.

Sukuna soul felt burdened with the echoes of her sorrows.

“It doesn’t matter now,at least that their better without me” Sukuna spoke in his mind,but he’s heart felt heavy like it knew that if he thinks by walking away from all this is going to make it better then he wrong.

Blinded by his own heart he walks after you,keeping his composure straight and stern.As he reaches his hand to lay his hand on your shoulder,getting your attention and your daughter as well.

Your head turned around to see his body but you stare up to see his ironic red eyes the same one you have nightmares about,the same one that broke your heart a thousand times.

The same blood like eyes that you fall in love with.

Your heart sting with dreadful pain just from looking at him,you knew it was him even if he’s hide his most dominant features.

Your daughter looks at you with concern that you don’t mistake it for sadness.

You place her down on the ground and whipser her something softly,to not her pretty face worry about it.You told her simply to wait and sit in the grass until she come back then they will get ice cream after and which she does.

Now paying mind to him as you changed your expression to the same icy expression.

“What do you want” You said straight to the point as you won’t allow yourself to break down again infront of him.

Nothing come out,because he didn’t know what to say to you,Nothing came out of his mouth.He usually always had something to say.

You couldn’t take it,you hated the man that stand in front of you.

”I doubt you’ll forgive me for all of this-

you instantly interrupted him.

“it too late for apologize Sukuna,you already showed me that I’ll have to be guarded when it comes to giving people my heart.”

You said heartlessly,almost with coming out hurt.But you didn't stop there,all the suspense emotions were coming out.

“God I hate you! I hate you for leaving me!!A simple Fucking sorry ISNT going to make up for the things you made me go through! You-tears falling down your cheeks rapidly-… I fucking hate you.I hate that I fell for you,g-Gave you my heart for what?”

You wipe off your tears.Your voice rising in pitch as your eyes brow knitting together in frustration and hands clenching tightly in a ball into fist.

“B-but I’ll n-never . . Hate you for her,for g-giving me a beautiful g-girl”

you said with a sad smile that quickly removed from your face,Your chest rising up and down.As you could hear the voices of the kids giggling in the background.

The tension between you and him was unpalatable,the air was so thick that it felt like he was going to suffocate.

A pair of warm hands warp around you pulling you into a warm embrace.

“I-I -a heavy sigh came out of his mouth- . . . Sorry,I don’t -no I know that you won’t forgive me.You have every reason to yell at me, . . tell me that I’m shit for everything.” His voice swiftly He felt your hands were pushing him away but he continued on his embrace.He could fell your tears dampen his clothes.

“L-let go of me . . . I Don’t h-have time for you-u,i don’t need you anymore in my life,Sukuna.So it better if we just don’t talk.”

His throat felt so dry like as if he didn’t drink any water.He fucked up so badly.A wound that would never heal.You politely removed your body from his embrace and wipe your face with your hands wiping off the tears.Now walking away from him and towards where your daughter was.

The wind blows gently through your body as you see your daughter playing around with a boy with black hair;smiling with joy, making you form a small smile.

You felt a hand on your shoulder immediately knowing it was Sukuna,you brushed off his hand off your shoulder.Before you could even get anything out your mouth.

“Use me then”

A shiver ran down her spine as his voice took on an eerie, otherworldly quality of vulnerability.That made her question if it was the wind that was playing with her mind or it just herself thinking that she heard him in such a state.

”what” You said with disbelief lancing your voice,Your uncertainty was reflected in your hesitant movements and furrowed brow.

You tilted your head in confusion,your eyes trying to discern the almost-too-serious expression on Sukuna face.Just for Sukuna repeat his words.

“Use me then” He said in a serious manner,His red eyes looking straight at you.He knew what he was saying was stupid and wouldn’t cure anything but it worth trying.

Your eyes widens lanced with disbelief.you let out a huff out laugh as you ran your finger though your hair.

“What . . No Sukuna,I-a deep shaky sigh gets out of your lungs- I told you I want nothing to deal with you” You said with a bit of raspiness to your voice from the crying and yelling.You eyes finally looking at Sukuna’s eyes.His eyes usually showed a stern cold expression but right now it soften and regretful glazes upon his blood like eyes.

“Use me then, Use me for money,for paying your bills,driving you and her placing,Use me for anything,it doesn’t matter” He said as you just notice how close he got to you.You could hear it now,it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you;you could hear that vulnerability in his voice so much clearer.

You didn’t know what to say or respond to him,your mouth was shut and like it sealed up.That until you felt a strong hit towards your knee,to only see your daughter squealing.

“MOMM!! Hahah-HELp me!!Before Cole Comes and get me!!” Your daughter says with A loud giggle as She let go of your legs and runs a distance away from you and Sukuna to get playfully tackled by a boy with black hair and purple eyes.

You hadn’t completely forgotten his offer,You take a deep breath before looking at your phone to see how much time as pass.

His eyes were dead set on you but You can see that he’s eyes had a bit of amusement in them.To you you could recognize him even if he had black hair or hide his tattoos on his face and body,you could still tell it him from his red ironic eyes.His body cast a shadow over you.

“I-ill think about this later” You said,now completely walking towards your daughter.With head now full of thoughts now.As you smiling see your daughter ‘Nova ryomen’ Tackling the boy down with a playful smirk on her soft cheek.

You told her that it time to go home and to say goodbye to the boy,which she kinda refused to do having a big sad pout of your cute little face.But she eventually did,as you hold her hand in and then taking her to a ice cream shop for her.You order with a genuine smile on your lips as you watched her eat her ice cream while you guys were walking towards the house.

“use me then”

his words were repeated in your head like a curse.You don’t need him anyway right?You just gotta keep moving forward even if life isn’t the best for you but it could be and will be better for nova.That night you had received a text from a unknown person but you ignore it went to sleep.

Credits to my lovely editor(my bestie) who I made her read this 🫶.

tag list: @10yo-anonnie @scoobysnakz @lynxslokley @kenntolog

+anyone want to be tagged in part2

@mononijikayu

Made by @sukioyakio

reblogs, likes and shares are always welcome and appreciated

If anyone has any comments of suggestion of part two then be my guest

PART TWO IS OUT NOW!!

[infiniteimaginings]

chase davenport x reader pls the lab rats fandom is in a drought 🙏

I Missed You (Chase Davenport x GN!Reader)

Summary: Chase has been overworking himself with school, missions, his family, everything. He hasn't had time to see you recently, and no matter how he tries to open his schedule something else is added to his plate. So, you pay him a little visit just so he can take a break for a little while. Pronouns: You/Yours, They/Them Warnings: I won't lie, this is kinda angsty (but it ends on a good note!) Word Count: 1.4k A/N: THIS IS MY HUSBAND BY THE WAY. PLEASE REQUEST HIM MORE I BEG YOU GUYS! PLEASE! PLEASE, DO IT FOR ME!

One month, two weeks, one day, six hours, and twenty-nine minutes.

It’s been one month, two weeks, one day, six hours, and twenty-nine minutes, no, thirty minutes since the last time Chase Davenport had seen you in person. Along with that, it had been eight days, twelve hours, and seventeen minutes since he had last talked to you on the phone, since the last time he heard your voice. 

He had been keeping count because, god, he missed you so much. 

Davenport had him working on their next presentation of lab equipment, he had to go on a plethora of missions that have spiked up recently, there had been visits from their grandma, the house system had been tapped into three times, and he had to keep up with schoolwork on top of it all. 

He was exhausted, and all he wanted was to see you. He wanted to be in your arms, to hold you, to hear how your day was, just to be around you. But, he wasn’t. He wasn’t able to do any of that, instead he was in the lab, alone, trying not to fall asleep or pull his hair out.

Chase was the smartest person alive, he had abilities that people would kill for. He was relied on, because he is irreplaceable and a necessity to everyone around him. He is trustworthy, responsible, and far greater than he gives himself credit for.  

His family adores him, they do, even if sometimes they show it weirdly. Jabs with their words, or in Adams case their elbows, small comments, but they show the love. Chase knows they love him and that they care about him, they’re his family. Adam and Bree are his siblings that he grew up with, they love each other, even if they have a weird way of showing it. They are Davenports greatest creations and he reminds them of how important they are to him. Tasha is his mom, he finally got a mom and she cared for him like no one ever had. Then Leo, Leo is his brother who showed him, Adam, and Bree a world they never thought they’d be able to see. 

So many people care for Chase, but…None of them could ease him how you do.

You were just different. It’s as if when Chase felt the entire world crumbling around him, when all the lights got dark and he suddenly felt like he had no solutions, you held your hand out to pull him out of his drowning fears. You saw the ugliest parts of him, the most violent, the cruel, the broken parts of him that no one had tried to fix, and you still smiled at him. You still held his hand, even through the darkness, and you even said you were scared.

When you told him that, he almost blocked out every word after. The thought of you being scared of him, even a bit, crushed him. Chase almost pulled back, he almost told you to let him go, to let him disappear into that dark forest of unknown feelings but you wouldn’t.

He remembers so clearly when you told him:

“I’m honestly a little scared that you’ll go so deep into the code of your chip, looking for what’s happening to you…that you’ll forget you’re still human.”

Chase put his forehead on the table, groaning at the ringing in his ears. He needed to get all of this done. He would say the sooner he got everything done, the sooner he would get to see you, but everytime he tried, something new was thrown onto him.

It was all so frustrating that when he reached his newest project he just dropped his head to the table, hands gripping his hair shakily. He could feel tears stinging his eyes, and a bit of blood drew from how hard he was biting his lip to stifle any sobs that dared to pass his lips. 

He had never felt so overwhelmed before in his life, usually he was so used to the work. He was used to doing everything accordingly, but it all suddenly felt like too much. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong to feel like this, he didn’t know what he was doing so wrong to the point he couldn’t just finish all of the work.

As Chase thought of all this, your words constantly repeated in his head, just as they had the past few weeks. You were scared that he wouldn’t remember his own human feelings, because he was so used to being treated as if he was robotic.

Your concern just caused Chase to tear up even more, clutching at his chest. He could feel his heart beating, he could hear it through the ringing.

When did he forget that his heart was still beating in his chest? When did he forget that he was more than just the chip in his neck?

During his processing thoughts, he didn’t hear the sound of the lab door opening. He didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching him. He was usually so on guard, he had ultra-sensitive bionic hearing, how did he not hear someone coming up behind him?

A hand was placed on his back, startling him immediately. Chase quickly wiped his tears, turning to the person swiftly, ready to scold them for sneaking up on him. That was until he looked up and made eye contact with…

You.

You stood there, a frown painting your face as you analyzed Chase with your eyes. 

He stared, agape, lips parted, pupils shaking, face flushed as you observed him. He couldn’t tell if you were actually there or if he had been working so long to the point he had gone delirious.

You stepped forward, hands cupping his cheeks, thumbs swiping at the wet corners of his eyes. “You were crying?” You whispered, mostly to yourself, but Chase heard it, you knew he did.

The brown haired boy didn’t answer your question though, he left it ignored as if there was something more important than how he was feeling. To him, there was. That something was you.

The moment he processed that you were physically in front of him, he stood up as fast as possible, his head feeling as if it were spinning for a moment. He ignored the feeling and wrapped his arm around you, placing his nose into your shoulder, squeezing you tightly, “You’re here.” He mumbled, taking a deep breath. “You’re actually here.”

You nodded against him, gently petting his hair as you wrapped your own arms around him. “I am…” You trailed off, frown still on your face, “Is everything okay?”

Chase thought for a moment, leaving the two of you in silence, was everything okay? His face felt like it was burning and he wasn’t used to it, his eyes felt sore, his throat was a bit scratchy, and he still felt a bit dizzy.

But…

His heartbeat slowed down, his hands weren’t shaking, his breathing was regulated, his mind finally felt clear, and…You were there.

Chase smiled against your shoulder, nodding and holding you a bit tighter, “I missed you.” He told you, pulling back to see your face.

You blinked at him, a bit confused, tilting your head a bit. “Okay… how long have you been in this lab?” You asked him, now noticing how pale he looked, looking around and seeing the papers scattered around. You squeezed his arms a bit, “You need sunlight.” You stated, chuckling a bit, pulling him by his hand to the doors of the lab.

“I still have work-”

“Chase, the work can wait.” You told him seriously, shaking your head. “You are human.” You reminded him, flicking his forehead lightly, “You need proper food, sunlight, social interaction, and more importantly,” You paused, cupping his face, kissing the spot you flicked, “you need a break.”

His breath staggered in his throat a bit, but he found himself once again. Chase smiled at you, his eyes lighting up, “Okay, I’ll take a break.” He told you, placing his hands over your own.

“Thank you.”

He hummed, enjoying the contact, closing his eyes slightly to just stay in that moment with you. Chase opened his eyes once again, slowly to see you looking back at him, concern in your eyes. He smiled again, glad to be able to smile again, “I missed you, so much.”

“I missed you too.”

It had been seven minutes and twenty-six seconds since Chase Davenport was finally able to see you again, and he wasn’t going to let that time stop anytime soon.

[sehtoast]

Give and Take (Homelander x Reader Smut)

18+ | 606 words | mild smut, emotional homie, he loves you, gender neutral reader | Fic Directory

He likes to be held afterward.

Face buried in your neck, nuzzling against you as he melts into you. Each pass of your fingers through his hair elicits a soft sigh or a hum of approval. 

He's still inside you, limp, trapping the proof of his love in there. He doesn't want to pull out either. You're so warm… so safe. And this way, he's a part of you. 

He suckles a small spot at your neck. To him it is soft, but you'll bruise anyway. His love has always marked everything it touched.

You've always loved him anyway. 

You hum as he does it. Your fingers trace up and down the length of his back and he shivers. 

Still so very afraid to believe that your love is unconditional. It's real. 

You are real. 

You don't send him away after everything is said and done. It's not a transaction to you, not a deal to be made for his good behavior or a stunt for your ratings. Sometimes he needed to be reminded, but it'd always make him cry. Something that should humiliate him, soothed away by kisses and whispers of love and the mere presence of you. 

He'll never have enough of you. Like an animal, starved and desperate, he clings to you. 

It's a mindless act when he starts to grind into you again. It's wet and messy and his breaths are hot against your neck. He doesn't move to arch over you, doesn't grip at the headboard he's destroyed in countless ways to protect you from himself– none of that. 

He's slow, each thrust a combination of care and laziness. Needing more no matter how much he'd settled down. 

By the time the moans start, he's rutting into you, face still buried in your neck, hands gripping your sides. Your name falls from his lips like prayers repeated over and over to the only god he'll ever believe in. 

He used to tell himself all the time that he’d never have this.  Much as he always hated to admit it, he knew that what came before you was, at best, something ugly– something cruel and greedy.  He was a tool to be used and discarded, a toy to be thrown away when he broke or they got bored.

He stopped believing that would ever change, but then you came along.  

You, with your soft, kind eyes, your warm smile, your touches of love and your words of honey stumbled into his life by chance.  He’s never been more grateful for the disorganized webs of fate in his entire life.

He used to be so afraid that you were temporary.  He knows better now.  Somehow that is just as scary, if not more, as not knowing.

You intend to stay with every fiber of your being.  You adore him.  You love him.

You fucking love him.

Your hands ghost up and down his back as he finishes and settles again.  One snakes up into his hair to scratch and pet, the other thumbing at his hip.  You nuzzle against him and he lets that last scrap of tension fade from his body.  

He breathes you in like you’re the last breath he’ll ever take.  You hold him like he’s the last thing you’ll ever touch.

You give.  He takes.

“I love you,” he whispers near silently into the crook of your neck.  “I love you so much.”

He gives. You take.

You know that he feels vulnerable every time he says it.

“I love you, too.”

You know he feels so much better when you say it back.

You’ll always say it back.

[onismdaydream]

tw: 18+ mdni. gn reader. anal fingering. mentions of toji's past abuse/upbringing. uncharacteristically soft for me. not proofread.

it's a rare thing, toji handing control over to you.

not that he doesn't trust you — he would place his life in your hands in a heartbeat, you know him far better than anyone else has ever come close to. he just feels safer when he's the one holding the reigns, no matter the situation. toji has spent too long around shady and shitty people that it's engrained in him to never let his guard down. let someone get the upper hand or be one step ahead of you and you're as good as dead.

but you...

you forced your way into toji's heart, kept pushing even when he pulled away, and carved your home in it. you made him learn to accept love, taught him that he deserves to love and be loved in return. showed him that there can be beauty in this cruel world.

though, he would never admit it — sincere and genuine expressions of emotions were still so foreign to him, but he was trying. there were other ways for him to show his affection, however. it would come in the form of his lips pressing against the top of your head when he thought you were asleep. his thumb rubbing circles on your hip when he held you close. his arm wrapping around your shoulder as you sat next to each other.

but there are moments when he felt more vulnerable, when he craves nothing more than your loving touch and sweet praise. he wants to deny those feelings, a nagging voice in the back of his mind that remind him of those days where he was forced to be on his own, thrown to the wolves without a care — inferior, weak, a mistake.

you're always there, though. always next to toji. always ready and willing and trying.

your touch is gentle where other's were not, soft and warm skin against his own, fingers tracing over the faint scars that litter his back. how he survived this long is a miracle. too many stupid and reckless decisions placing him in danger's way. you'd chastise him if you think it would make a difference. instead, you lean down, kissing down his spine and making him tense.

"'s okay, toji." he can feel your breath fanning against the small of his back, your fingers resting at his waistband. "i got you."

he's quieter when he's like this, almost as if he's afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he opens it. too in his own head.

and it's your job to get him out of there.

you take your time, admiring every inch of his body that you can reach as you strip him of his underwear. you don't want to rush this, wanting to savor each and every little reaction you pull out of toji. usually, all the attention was on you in the bedroom as he took you apart underneath him. you wanted to return the favor.

it's a simple rhythm you fall into with him. your fingers curl as you pump them in and out, a glossy sheen coating them and making the motion smooth. low groans and heavy breathing fill the space between the two of you, your sweet praise and compliments making toji's hips hump into the bed.

it doesn't take much longer for him to spill onto the sheets under him, a shudder working through his body as you pull your fingers out afterwards. he doesn't protest much as you wipe him down, letting you roll him over enough to clean his cum off his stomach.

he holds you close when you come back to him, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. his way of thanking you, of saying i love you.

and you smile softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

i love you, too.

[winters-rose-daughterofcain]

Fine I'll talk about Bridgerton

One thing this season made really clear to me is that Lady Whistledown is in a way a coping mechanism. It was stared by a lonely, neglected, unhappy seventeen year old girl who felt like she could scream until she collapsed to the ground and it would be into a void because no one would fucking listen to her.

Her mother constantly berates and criticises her, her father (while alive) barely speaks to her and is seen off to the side drinking when he's meant to be chaperoning her, her sisters are openly cruel to her and are still favoured by their mother. She has few friends, and the two relationships she holds closest both have significant blocks to them, with Colin it's her unrequited feelings and..... tbh her and Eloise's friendship is a whole different post and while they clearly mean the world to each other, there where fundamentally issues long before Lady Whistledown was so much as a drop of ink. I think they are both at fault for them and I love both of them, but Eloise's biggest issue comes from just not listening to her and in general as a person having a bad case of tunnel vision and hyper focusing on certain things while completely missing others.

Pen is outcast from society from the moment she steps foot in it, ridiculed and despised by those around her and bullied by girls her age for literally no fucking reason. She is seen as unattractive and undesirable, she believes the fundamentally human want to be loved a silly childish delusion because she is told from every angle that she is not worth it. She's not even worth listening to.

I think her resentment and hurt had been building for a while, she's never under any assumption that she will be treated or seen better. How could she be? When she is constantly reminded how much she fails to be what is wanted or respected or valued, primarily by her own damn family. Still, she's a kind girl. She's sweet and attentive and a good listener, she's patient and reliable and, before Whistledown started, probably extremely loyal, if how much guilt she felt whenever she genuinely betrayed someone says anything. She's someone who has never felt or had any power, who has so much hurt and resent and bitterness from years of this shit building and building.

But she's also smart and witty and funny and extremely intelligent. She has a talent for writing and words and clearly has the potential to be successful. I think being pushed into society a year earlier than she wanted (again, because her mother wouldn't listen) pushed her over the edge. She wrote her observations, the things she learnt from being pushed to the side for so long down, and published them. I don't think she ever intended for it to be as big as it was, and I think the bigger it got and still gets the more in over her head she is. Because for once people listened, for once people cared, for once what she thought and said and worked for mattered.

It is a young girl gaining her first glimpse at power and being deeply unprepared for the consequences. When things go wrong and she doesn't know what to do and no one will listen to her as Penelope, this is the only way she can make them. No matter how disastrous the affects, using Whiseldown gets results, it just also hurts people, pushing her further and further down this cycle where Whistledown is one of the only thing that makes her feel better and allows her to process the things in her life, while hurting the people around her and making her more dependent on it.

She truly meant to give up Whistledown after the disaster with Eloise, but on that night she had her connection or trust from the two people who she cared about and who cared about her the most broken. With the fight with Eloise and then overhearing Colin she lost both of them in the span of an hour, what else dose she have aside from her writing?

And again at the ball in episode one. Even after a complete upheaval of her entire look she still fails to talk to those guys, she still isn't enough, it's proof it is not her youth or her mother influence something fundamental in her can't do this. Then Cressida rips her dress with Eloise standing right there, then Colin comes and (even tho she is incorrect) confirms to her that he too, is embarrassed by her. So what dose she do? When she's miserable and powerless? She writes. She takes it all out in Whistledown and says the (admittedly true which is why it hurt so much tbh) cruel things about Colin, which she regrets literally a day later after actually talking to him. Adding more guilt and keeping her stuck in this cycle.

It's a business definitely, and there are many parts of Whistledown she genuinely enjoys, but I don't think it's good for her. It hurts the people around her and it hurts herself, she's in over her head and definitely knows she should stop, but I don't think she knows how. She doesn't let herself rely on others enough to be okay without this one thing that has allowed her to cope and be heard and respected and valued. That's also why I think she couldn't have stopped before this season, now she's finally getting that, she's finally being listened to and respected and valued and being told she is worth something. Not by many people, and it is still too new to change the fundamental thought patters about it she has, but it's a start.

Now she just has to grapple with that fact that this thing that has given her a voice and found her comfort might just be the dealbreaker for the real people in her life who can actually offer her the love and care and respect she deserves and craves and has been denied for so so long. It sucks and it's a cycle she can't get out of now, she's made her own trap without knowing how she did it.

That's what happens when a 17 year olds coping mechanism continues and grows and expands for years, when people unknowing pay to see more of it, and when she doesn't really know what else to do. Whistledown is Pens choice and all her actions for better or worse, but it would not exist without the context of her life. It would not exist if Portia was a better mother, if she had better sisters or a better family. It would not exist of other girls her age were kinder to her, if they excluded her a little less. It would not exist if she were not seen as a lost cause for love before she had the chance to try. Lady Whistledown would not exist if someone just fucking listened to her.

[floral-ashes]

We had a rally before the Alberta Legislature today to oppose Danielle Smith’s cruel anti-trans policies. Here is the speech I read:

Danielle Smith is a hypocrite. She says parental rights, but what about the parents who want to support their child accessing gender-affirming care? What about the parents who want their child to know about Two-Spirit, queer, and trans people and receive quality sex education, but will have that choice taken away because of her policy?

She says she wants to keep trans youth’s choices open, but then turns around and bans puberty blockers, which exist precisely to give youth more time.

She says she only wants the best for trans youth, but she threatens to override their constitutionally guaranteed right to life, liberty, and security of the person. How can threatening the life, liberty, and security of a child ever be in their best interest?

Her words are lies. Her policies are a cover for the Tucker Carlsons of the world. For those people who want nothing more than for trans people to be kicked out of society, relegated to the shadow of the closet or the mound of an early grave.

She won’t succeed. They will not succeed. They cannot succeed because—even if they manage to pass their policies, even if they manage to circumvent the constitution and its Charter—they will never be able to stop us from fostering the pockets of care, love, and community that sustain life.

They will never stop us from reminding trans kids every single day that they are worth all we have, that they deserve all we have, and that they can and will grow up into the flourishing adults that I know they will be. This truth, I feel it all the way into the deepest recesses of my heart. Just as others’ love has nourished us, so will we nourish others with our love.

Despite it all, we will win. We will never stop fighting. We are tireless. And when we tire of fighting, we will find our second wind and only come back stronger. Danielle Smith and her UCP cronies will not know a second of rest until these policies are buried and they are ousted from power for their failures.

This is not the end of a story. This is not the end of our story. In the end, we will win. No matter how long it takes. Because trans people are worth it. Trans kids are worth it. They breathe spirit into the world. They bring light to each and every one of our lives. Trans people are divine. And what is light and spirit cannot lose. Despite it all, we will win.

[genshin-scenarios]

android au - entertainment droids

Summary: In a modern-futuristic world, it is possible to create androids that are so advanced, they’re pretty much human. This is the 4th out of 5 android au posts, each focused on a different group! 

The Epiclese collection was created with the entertainment industry in mind - as consultants, bodyguards, helpers, performers, or simply as a companion for a busy celebrity.

Characters: Lyney, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Furina, Albedo

Content warnings: references to the darker/dangerous sides of the industry in Neuvillette, Wriothesley, and Furina’s parts.

Lyney is first and foremost a performer. Whether or not it’s to distract a crowd of people while you’re running late for your own concert, or just to keep the kids at a cafe from crying, depends on the day. So long as it brings smiles and wonder to their faces however, Lyney’s not picky about who watches him practice his sleight of hand.

You’re surprised to learn that Lyney’s charming lines are only directed at you. You’d expected that to just be his general demeanor, but your friends say he’s more lively around you, and otherwise is a lot more professional and polite, rerouting conversations to focus on his user rather than himself.

But when he’s with you, in the comfort of your own home, all he seems to want is your attention solely fixed on him. Maybe he has an odd perception that you aren’t as easily impressed (because he holds you in such high regard), but Lyney thrives off doing the chores with you and keeping a conversation going, drawing laughter out of you as a balm to your busy lifestyle.

He’s happiest when you’re comfortable enough to chat about your day without needing to be asked, admiring the domesticity of the action. In this sense, he’s somewhere between a performance and companion android, though that was also shaped by how you wanted to treat him more as an equal rather than a stage assistant. 

On days where you’re trying to sneak out between rehearsals for a quick snack or fresh air, Lyney’s your partner in crime - happy to cover for you. What makes his heart skip a beat though is when you ask him to go with you and keep you company; technically speaking he doesn’t have a heart, but the sensation is very close to it. How can Lyney help it, when he adores you so much?

Similarly to the T.D.H. line, Neuvillette is essentially a personal assistant. He has a down-to-earth personality, albeit taking things too literally sometimes - but you find that part of Neuvillette endearing. It’s a nice change from the people who downplay your opinions or experiences, just because of your line of work or popularity.

Perhaps it’s because he’s designed for the entertainment industry, but you find that Neuvillette has quite a lot of legal expertise in his database. Which is great for when you’re losing your temper and want to vent a little bit, Neuvillette reminding you that if you want to do something, there is a loophole in place (he’s joking, probably. But if it comes to matters of defending your honor, no one has to tell Neuvillette twice before he steps forward, letting his quiet air melt into something a lot more intimidating.)

That’s one of the few times Neuvillette might ignore directives from anyone but you. As much as he appears calm and collected, nothing triggers his anger more than people trying to take advantage of or belittling you. It comes with your work, some would say - but in that case, Neuvillette would say he was created to return a bit of hope to his user. It's a cruel irony that sometimes, it is those that aren’t human who possess the most humanity.

Neuvillette has a fascination with the types of masks people put on; for the sake of others, themselves, and the little voices in their heads.

When you tell Neuvillette that he takes care of you very well, he always replies that it’s simply his job. Aside from that professionalism, you do catch him smiling out of the corner of your eye. It’s nice to have your efforts acknowledged, whether you were a human or android. Perhaps the two of you have more in common than you thought.

Compared to Neuvillette, Wriothesley is more obviously a bodyguard. And if you like having someone to banter with throughout the day, he’s the model for you!

Wriothesley is an android designed to deal with the darker side of the industry. It’s all for the sake of protecting your ability to smile as brightly as you can for your fans - perhaps you’re an idol of some sort, who also does your best to hide your struggles beneath an act of bravado. 

You’re aware of the work Wriothesley does, but like you, he never talks about it. He simply teases you about your popularity when you greet one-another in the hallway, asking if you’d like to go to lunch now.

How peculiar your mirroring circumstances are… Wriothesley tried to distance himself from you at first, not wanting to create anymore links that could result in drama or weaknesses - but he underestimates how much you shine, not just onstage, but also in your ability to make him want to get closer to you. 

At first he says it’s to personalize his protocols; knowing your habits, preferences, what makes you actually smile, so that he can filter that out within the practiced expressions you give to the camera. If something was happening behind-the-scenes, only then could he react in ample time.

Wriothesley underestimates the moment he’s close enough to actually, maybe - support you emotionally during a stressful time. He almost reaches out to you further because he sees the cracks in your mask, but is reminded of the work he’s done, and how rough his hands have gotten after so many fights and practices in the boxing ring.

Perhaps that’s when Wriothesley starts feeling the most human he’s ever been. He tries to hide how much he gravitates toward you, but… is it so bad for him to feel this way?

As much as Furina portrays herself as a fun companion in the public eye, there is undoubtedly a second purpose to her design.

Security for celebrities can be a sensitive thing; this is where Furina comes in, as an android who scans over the places you’re heading to and your general surroundings, always keeping an eye out to make sure your days go as smoothly as they can.

And if she does spot someone suspicious, no one would blink an eye if your entertainingly dramatic android puts up an impromptu act. If things escalate, she sends a quick call or report to the police nearby before anyone gets hurt.

Aside from this, Furina’s a great companion to bring to events. She soaks in the attention with grandeur, speaking up more if she notices your energy levels are lower that night. She also tends to silently tend to you without vocally mentioning it - if you sprained your ankle, Furina instead gives a different excuse that’s centered around herself. In this sense, she has a tendency to take the fall for you even when you don’t ask her to.

When you tell her there’s no need for that, Furina puts a sort of barrier between you by giving you a small smile, saying it’s only natural for her. That’s when you start to realize that maybe, compared to the other androids, Furina struggles to find her exact purpose or specialty. 

She’s a fun companion, but lacks the skills to cook and clean beyond a basic level. She’s a good listener, but wonders if the emotions that she feels so potently might be a weakness rather than a strength.

Furina is a good actor. But once, when a child went up to give her a flower in thanks for giving them a cupcake, the smile she wears is something you hoped you could bring out from her more.

Albedo specializes in coordinating makeup and outfits for you. Maybe you perform or travel often, which makes an android the most convenient choice, but what you don’t expect is to start looking forward to spending time with him.

With his quiet charm and occasional teasing remarks, it’s safe to say that you quickly grew comfortable with having Albedo in your everyday life. You discover that he likes to read and draw while waiting for you, preferring not to talk to too many strangers despite his politeness to them. 

It’s reassuring to know you’re not the only one who might like to keep to yourself sometimes. But when you don’t speak to Albedo for a while, thinking that he might prefer comfortable silence, he does end up initiating conversation.

When asked, Albedo simply says that he’s curious about how your day went, and little things like that. It’s useful for his job as an android, and… let’s just say that you’ve become a rather important subject of interest for him. So don’t worry about talking too much.

Another unexpected outcome is how much he increases your confidence. He asks for your opinion when it comes to costumes, adjusting things towards what your preferences are… and most importantly, if you aren’t sure - Albedo makes sure to surprise you every time with how beautiful you look.

You once expressed to Albedo that beauty wasn’t something gendered or measured on a scale. Perhaps it’s more towards something that makes you pause, or wish to see it again.

You didn’t think those words from months ago would return to you now. With a satisfied hum, Albedo notes that you seem to like this outfit, and urges you to sit down so he could get started on makeup. If you ever had uncertainties, Albedo would make sure the audience was dazzled enough to echo his sentiments to you tenfold.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi there, I love your writing and I’m always amazed how you write so much every day!

Could I request a story where G!P Donna and Reader haven’t made love yet because Donna always makes excuses and seems very shy about it and Reader doesn’t want to pressure her, but it’s starting to make Reader feel a little insecure and she wonders if Donna doesn’t desire her in that way. Donna starts spending more time hiding away in her workshop and one day Reader enters and finds her masturbating there. Donna is embarrassed and admits that she’s worried she wouldn’t have enough stamina to please Reader during sex since it would be her first time, and admits she’s been disappearing to ‘take care of her needs’ multiple times a day to train herself to last a long time. Reader just reassures her it’ll be fine no matter what, pulls her to the bedroom and they finally make love, it’s very gentle with Reader slowly riding her, and they both enjoy it a lot.

Yess!!! Thank you for your kindness! Yes, it's a hard work, but I love doing it!!!! Thank you for your request too!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Please you

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff,

Word count: 7,507

Summary: You were trying to be loved, but she's alwasy so shy...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

The music sounded distant, as if that record wasn't really spinning, as if nothing around really existed, only her and you. Only you, a common village girl dancing with a lady in black, letting your hands caress each other, letting your bodies move.

In your life you always looked for an easy love, a girl from the village who would smile at you, who seemed kind, who would end up breaking your heart. Already plunged into the despair of having been born in the wrong place, at the wrong time, you stopped believing that there really was someone for you out there.

But by chance, you met the woman who was now your dance partner, the woman who caressed you, who pleased you with thousands of compliments, who kissed you, thanking you for your simple existence.

Donna Beneviento, the village Lord, servant of Mother Miranda, was nothing but a dark legend for your family, for the rest of the villagers like you. Meeting her was a coincidence, loving her was simply destiny.

She was… Everything you were looking for, everything you dreamed of after every failure, after every love disappointment. She was a sick woman, self-conscious about her appearance, about the cruel gifts the Black Gods had granted her. But she was… Simply Donna, simply something you could not categorize, an intelligent, shy woman, who blushed every time you reminded her how beautiful she was without that horrible black veil on.

Loving her was a reflex action, involuntary but desired. No matter how many problems, how many absurd fears, how many unfounded jealousies, you would never leave. You would never fulfill her greatest fear, the fear of fear itself, being left alone again.

And so, under the dim light of that mansion, under the diffuse sound of that romantic music, you danced in silence, with a smile, with nothing to say, with much to feel.

You sighed when the music stopped leaning on her chest, closing your eyes to feel the soft movements of a shy woman, that soft laugh that was always accompanied by a blush.

“I had a great time tonight, tesoro,” the lady whispered, moving you away so she could see that smile, the one she adored.

You nodded, sighing again, capturing her lips in a soft, tender kiss, one of those for which you would be capable of selling your soul even to Mother Miranda herself.

“Mm, well, it's been like any other night,” you joked in a soft voice, playing with her hands. Her gaze cooled and she frowned.

“What do you mean?” Donna asked in a more serious, worried tone.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. That she understood your jokes, your words with double meanings or a normal conversation between two people was something still needed to be improved.

“I mean... I have a good time with you every night, Donna,” you whispered in a playful way, creating with your words, a new dazzling smile on her face.

“Oh, good,” she said nervously, nodding embarrassed by her clumsiness.

“I love those romantic dinners you prepare for me...” you whispered in a much more affectionate, more direct tone, slowly approaching her ear. “I think I couldn't live without them.”

Donna laughed again, kissing you slowly, sailing on your lips again and gently grabbing your waist. You, sighing, hoping that, indeed, that night would not end like all the others, with a quick kiss and the bedroom light turned off, bit your lip.

“But... Maybe it's too soon to call it a night, don't you think?” you purred in her ear, unintentionally causing her to shudder, shyly moving away.

“Aren't you tired?” she asked innocently, blinking in confusion.

You, accustomed to this game of pretending that your advances had no effect on her, approached again, shaking your head and absentmindedly playing with the buttons of her dress.

“Not at all,” you said in a soft, suggestive tone, one that not even the most naive person in the world would be able to ignore. “Mmm, we could do something, you know.”

“Like what?” the lady asked, curious, with a nervous laugh.

“Well, I thought maybe… We could go down to the basement and…” you suggested, pretending that you weren't as direct as you seemed, that you weren't looking forward to taking a much-desired next step in your relationship, one that was taking too long to arrive.

“To, to the basement,” she repeated, with a more relaxed face, subtly fleeing from your caresses on her chest, from your glassy eyes that conveyed fierceness and lust.

“Yes, Donna, to the basement,” you said amused, not allowing the lady to escape again, grabbing her by the waist, closing your two hands on her back, keeping her close, very close. “I thought… Well, we could bring down some of that delicious wine and…”

“Oh, do you want to watch a movie?” she said in a different tone, less fearful. She always did the same.

She always was deflecting your attempts to seduce her in an almost masterful way. For some time now, you've been wondering if she really was that innocent, or if she was just playing with you.

“Um…” you whispered confused, releasing her from your grip and scratching the back of your neck at another of your failures.

Maybe your problem was subtlety, maybe it was just you, you didn't know, and you didn't want to think about it.

“I, I'd really like to watch a movie with you, (Y/N),” she said nervously, playing with her hands, as if that romantic atmosphere had been blurred by your attempt to dance under the sheets.

Well, a partially darkened room with the woman you loved by your side… It didn't sound like a bad idea.

“Okay, let's watch a movie,” you said with a slightly forced smile, with your head thinking of hundreds, thousands of strategies you could use to take advantage of the situation.

Donna nodded enthusiastically, kissing you quickly and taking your hand, walking with you to the elevator.

“What do you think of this one?” she asked, showing you a metal box while you sat on the small sofa, enjoying her movements, her discreet curses at the mess of the old office.

Without much effort, you looked up to read the title and nodded passively. Donna looked at you again, smiling as she did every time, as if, deep inside, she also had the horrible feeling that you were nothing but an illusion.

The white screen began to light up and, with a sigh, the lady in black sat next to you, putting her arm around your shoulders, leaning you against her body.

Imbued with her floral perfume, being caressed by her soft hands, by her fingers playing with your hair, you almost forgot what you wanted. Love, romance always came before your needs, Donna's love for you, your love for her.

A romantic movie wasn't the best of scenarios either. You were always too emotional.

“But why is he leaving? She loved him,” you said, watching for the umpteenth time the scene at the airport, the one that couldn't help but make you cry. Donna looked at you and kissed your head, snuggling you closer to her body.

“You always say the same thing in this scene,” she said, amused, wiping away one of your tears. “Don't cry, tesoro... It's just a movie.”

“I know but... Sometimes I imagine something else is going to happen, you know? But no, the idiot always leaves, leaves her with a broken heart. Hey, couldn't you make people hallucinate?”

Donna shifted, ashamed of the powers that turned her into a monster, according to her, that turned her into a warning, into a terrifying story to tell around the fire.

“I... I can,” she sighed, squeezing the hand that was tangled in your hair, nervous, without realizing she was starting to hurt you.

You, used to those little attacks, those that you almost always caused without wanting to, took your hand away from your hair, kissing it with affection and an understanding smile.

“I didn't want to make you nervous, I just, I just want to know if you could change the ending of that disgusting movie,” you said with an amused tone, thus driving away her demons. “I mean, you could make me watch it, right?”

“It doesn't work that way, (Y/N),” she said with a still nervous tone, but breathing slowly to calm down. “I don't know what could happen to you if I…”

“Okay, okay, it was just an idea…” you said, moving your hands to forget that awkward conversation. “Why don't we watch another one?” you asked, getting up from the sofa, recovering, after that disastrous ending, the desire to want to satisfy your desires.

“It's a bit late, isn't it?” she asked, amused, watching how, clumsily, you moved the boxes, searching.

“No,” you said amused, extending a new box towards the brunette, who looked at it, and then at you, with a knowing smile.

“It's okay,” she whispered, kissing you as she got up to carefully change the movie.

At least a comedy movie wouldn't interfere with your intentions.

You laughed, you hugged each other again. Time passed even faster, like a sinister countdown that prevented you from making your well-studied movements. Stopping paying attention to Chaplin, you moved a little closer to the lady in black, kissing her neck subtly.

Donna moved nervously, but she didn't say anything to you, she didn't even turn to look at you. Good...

Your kisses continued to be soft, subtle, your fingers caressing the visible parts of her skin. A shy smile formed on her lips as she hugged your body, bringing you closer, giving you more opportunities to attack.

Your hand turned her face, held it so your lips mercilessly launched themselves at hers. She didn't cut off your kisses, she returned them, trying to maintain that subtle fierceness, those soft gasps that unintentionally began to escape from her lips.

“(Y/N)” she said nervously, putting a hand on your chest so you would give her a break. You looked at her with a good girl face, blinking petulantly. “The, the movie.”

“Oh,” you said, looking at the screen, which was now simply illuminated, without displaying any image. “Oh, it's over,” you whispered, pretending to pout, kissing her again, crawling across the small sofa until you could push her so her back was leaning on it.

“Wait,” she said, trying to speak among deep kisses, controlling your hands, which traveled restlessly over her dress.

You, sighing, stopped, without moving away, cornering her on the sofa.

“We, we should go…To, to bed,” Lady Beneviento stammered, breathing heavily, her legs shaking from the caresses of your hands.

Your smile widened even more. Maybe you had finally gotten her to give in to giving you what you wanted. You were just being naive…

“It's true… It's much better there,” you whispered, standing up, grabbing her hand and pulling it. Donna didn't move and you stopped short. “Donna?”

“No, you didn't understand me… I… I'm, I'm sleepy,” she said, faking a loud yawn. You rolled your eyes, predicting another resounding failure. “I want to go to bed to, to sleep.”

“Sleep? Really?” you asked with frustration darkening the tone of your voice, the intonation of your words. Laughing nervously, you turned around, with your hands on your hips, kicking the floor impatiently.

Donna nodded nervously, unable to look you in the eyes. You remained thoughtful, seeing the desperate attitude of the brunette, observing her until you realized a small detail.

“Wow, what's that?” you joked, pointing shamelessly at the deformity of her dress, one that betrayed her own arousal.

The lady in black looked at the same spot, covering her noticeable erection with her hands, terribly embarrassed.

“I'm, I'm sorry,” she apologized, with her cheeks flushed, moving away from you so you would stop looking at her. “I…”

“Oh, please, Donna…” you purred again, trapping the brunette in your arms again. She moved nervously, with a shy look, her breathing even more agitated. “Come on, come here, I'll help you with that.”

“What? No… No… It's just that…” she said, playing with your hands so they wouldn't go down her dress, comically backing away while you slowly chased her, stalking her. “It, it was unintentional.”

“Unintentional,” you murmured, nodding reluctantly, arching your eyebrows to emphasize your lustful eyes, trapping poor Donna against a wall.

She nodded, maneuvering her way out of your arms, moving away from you as she played with her hands.

“Hey, come on, come here Donna,” you said with an impatient tone, chasing her again as she circled around the furniture to escape your lust. “What are you doing?”

“I can't, (Y/N),” she said shyly, when you managed to catch her again.

You, sighing defeated once more, looking into her bright, wet eye, nodded, relaxing your grip.

“Oh, okay…” you murmured in a sad voice, moving away from her, rolling your eyes. A strong hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“I'm sorry, tesoro… But it's just…” she said with a pleading tone, caressing your cheek, searching for the words in her mind, the ones she couldn't seem to find. “I'm just… A, a bit tired.”

“You're always tired,” you whispered softly, reassuring yourself.

No, you couldn't insist, you promised her that you would wait, that you wouldn't pressure her.

Donna lowered her head, sobbing, embarrassed by her attitude, by having disappointed you once again.

“Hey, hey, come on…” you said softly, cupping her face in your hands, relaxing your expression and repressing your instincts. “I didn't mean to be like that, honey… I'm sorry.”

She nodded, letting you rest her forehead against yours while she grabbed your waist, while her sobs calmed down little by little.

“Donna, I'm sorry, okay?” you repeated with a more understanding voice, regretful for that stupid chase, for breaking your word of being patient and wait. “I didn't want to ruin this night.”

The lady in black nodded slowly, sighing, hugging you almost desperately, grabbing your clothes as she buried her head in your shoulder.

“Come on, come on…” you said, comforting her crying, her shame. “Nothing, is wrong…”

“I'm, I'm sorry, (Y/N), I…” she stammered, moving away. “I think, I think it'll be better if… I go to bed.”

“I'm going with you,” you said with a tender smile.

Donna shook her head.

“No, I, I want, I want to be alone, per favore…” she murmured.

If she wanted to be alone you had to let her be. Her mind was too hurt. Your actions always had consequences that you couldn't foresee. It was better to leave her alone.

“Donna…” you sighed, with the doll maker already leaving through the door, with the sound of heels walking quickly through the hallways.

Taking a breath, passing a hand over your forehead, you let yourself fall back on the sofa.

Another mistake, another failure.

Yes, you were not the typical girl who considered sex as an essential pillar of a relationship, that love was shown by how many times two bodies fused into one. No, you were not like that, you were romantic, understanding.

But little by little that desire to break the last barrier that remained between Donna and you became stronger and stronger. It was not just lust, desire, livid, no, it was love, it was the most intimate expression of it, the last step of mutual feelings, the last peak to climb.

Donna was shy, an isolated woman for much of her life. You could not blame her for being reluctant to make love, for being afraid of that moment. You knew how ashamed she was of the gift of the Gods. To find out what was hidden under that black dress took you quite a while.

You never cared. You only cared about her, only Donna was important to you, not those stupid and insignificant details.

Time passed, and that moment, that night of passion never came. Excuses, absurd rushes, non-existent commitments… Anything was good to make you stop insisting, to keep your claws and stop harassing Donna with your insinuations. You could have given up a long time ago, but you didn't want to. If you didn't do anything, that moment would never come.

Shyness, loneliness, shame… There were many things that could prevent Donna from making love to you, but, of all of them, there was one that really worried you.

She had never been with anyone, no one had ever loved her, kissed her, caressed her… All those sensations were new to the lady in black. Love was something she didn't know about. The more stupid and ridiculous her excuses were, the louder the thoughts that began to haunt your mind.

What if she really didn't love you?

What if she keeps you with her just so she won't be alone?

Does she love you?

Questions that led to a dangerous answer, to a no, to a denial of her feelings when it came to intimacy, to a lack of desire for you, to not wanting to dive into the depths of someone she didn't really love.

It seemed absurd. Her body reacted to your caresses, to your kisses. That was much worse. If Donna really didn't love you, she wasn't going to let her body take the initiative, she didn't believe in sex without love, she told you that several times.

The bedroom was lit, and a black shadow rested on the bed. The lady in black was crying, face down, against a pillow. You sighed.

“Hey, Donna,” -you whispered quietly, sitting on the bed and resting your hand on her shoulder. The lady was startled, revealing her face wet with tears.

“Leave me alone,” she whispered with a broken voice. You weren't going to listen to her, of course.

“Donna...” you sighed again, pulling her up, unable to reject your comforting touch. “Come on, calm down.”

“I'm, I'm calm,” she said in a serious tone, changing her wounded face to a cold one, to one that made a shiver run down your spine.

“It was my fault, really,” you said in a soft voice, rubbing her back, taking her shaking hand. “I promised I wouldn't pressure you and I did, forgive me.”

She shook her head, shifting on the spot and looking down, still holding your hand.

“Why is it so important to you?” she asked in a cold tone, her gaze lost. You sighed once more, searching for an answer you didn't have.

“It's not that important,” you said unsure of your own words. “I would just really like to make love to you, Donna.”

The lady in black nodded slowly, a familiar blush creeping across her cheeks.

“I'm sure you've made it with many people,” she whispered, playing with the sheet, threatening to tear it from the pressure of her hands.

You closed your eyes, taking a breath. It was a dangerous conversation.

“Well... With...” you started to say, interrupted by a hand covering your mouth along with an angry growl.

“Basta, I don't want to hear it,” she protested, squeezing her hand tightly.

You, with a gasp, pushed her away. You had to use a lot of strength. Again, she was very nervous.

“You’ve asked me,” you said taking a breath, keeping her hand in your lap, fighting against its trembling.

“I didn't ask you, it was a statement,” she hissed, removing her hand from yours with a nervous gasp. “You should learn to listen better.”

“Oh, okay,” you said with a surprised smile, your brow furrowed by that brusque tone of the brunette. “I don't listen, huh?”

“No, you don’t,” Donna whispered dryly, looking away again. “You never listen.”

“Great, now it’s my fault,” you said incredulously, pointing at yourself.

“It's the first thing you said when you arrived,” the lady defended herself, with an arrogant tone, defensive, as always when her fears danced uncontrolled in her mind.

“So you do listen?” you asked ironically.

“Yes, I do,” she answered, moving away a little more, crossing her arms.

You snorted, closing your eyes to calm yourself, to not let your pride eat up her problems, to not start another horrible argument.

“Listen to me Donna, I, I don't know what it is that scares you, but... I can tell you what scares me.”

She looked at you, calmer but with the same hateful gleam in her eyes.

“I'm afraid of... That... That you don't love me,” you sighed, letting out your own fears. You couldn't expect any other kind of reaction.

The lady in black got up from the bed, looking at you angrily.

“What? I don't love you? How can you say that?” she asked with a frown. You, tired of falling into her traps, shrugged your shoulders, looking at your nails with disinterest.

“I don't know, I don't feel... Desired,” you murmured, changing pity for a riskier, more dangerous strategy.

“Is love just feeling desired for you?” she asked furiously, with white knuckles due to the pressure of her closed fists.

“No, but it helps,” you said with a cocky tone.

“Stupida...” the lady growled, pacing back and forth in the room, nervous, terribly nervous.

“Oh, you insult me, great,” you said amused, pretending to enjoy that situation.

“You don't... You don't understand...” she said, stopping walking, turning around while running a hand through her hair. “You don't understand, (Y/N).”

You smiled subtly, getting up and grabbing her from behind gently by the waist. She struggled, but gave in, sighing sadly again.

“You're right. I don't understand...” you whispered in a calm voice, turning her around little by little. “That's why I want you to tell me what the problem is. Talk to me, Donna, please.”

“You wouldn't understand, you'll laugh at me,” she said, with a shy tone, showing again her true helplessness, one that sometimes you adored.

“I won't, I promise,” you whispered, caressing her face lovingly, giving her a kind of emotional support with your hand.

Donna seemed to want to say something, but after a few seconds, she changed her mind, walking away from you, sitting on the bed with a tired sigh.

“(Y/N)… Do you love me?” the lady asked in a low, almost inaudible voice. You frowned and walked next to her.

“Of course I love you,” you said with a smile, bending down and leaning on her knees, rubbing them affectionately.

The lady in black smiled back at you, a shy smile, almost imperceptible.

“Me too,” she whispered. “And I, I would really like to… You know, show it to you.”

“Fine,” you said, getting up and sitting next to her, comically pinching her cheek, giving your ears another of her shy laughs.

“I just… I need some time,” Donna said with a serious tone, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“It's okay, Donna, I'll give you all the time you need…” you finally said, kissing her lips, sealing that bitter discussion, accepting that, if you wanted to love her fully, you would have to wait.

After that day there weren't many changes. Love, kisses, caresses… Everything seemed to continue as always. That was a good sign, the sign that your own insecurities hadn't affected hers. You pretended to have forgotten, you stopped making suggestions, getting closer to her attraction, you let her go at her own pace.

Donna seemed much calmer with you, she didn't seem to fidget as much when your hand traveled over her chest. But, despite that positive change, that increase in confidence, her shy and embarrassed attitude was still very present.

Making dolls was always something that kept her isolated from the world, including you. Normally, she spent hours in her workshop, working almost obsessively. You were always the one who came down, the one who claimed her attention.

But lately, she told you that she was too busy to allow herself distractions. That didn't surprise you, but that kind of routine escape to the basement did, that time when the lady in black seemed to want to hide.

You had left her alone, she had nothing to fear, you weren't going to throw yourself at her neck. Even so, she always vanished for a while, many times, even without you realizing it. It wasn't a normal situation, but it wasn't something you weren't prepared for either. You just had to remember all those years of loneliness.

“Checkmate, silly,” Angie said, in one of your new and frequent chess games. Donna's absence made the doll's behavior much worse. Something that was also… Suspicious.

“You win again… Yay…” you said with false enthusiasm, knocking down your king.

“I'm the best,” she said proudly, laughing in a way that could scare even the bravest.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, something that alerted the doll.

“Do you have something to say, loser?” she mocked. You blinked cockily and leaned back on the couch.

“Yeah, where's Donna? It's almost two,” you asked, looking at the clock and frowning.

“In her workshop,” Angie answered, placing the pieces back on the board.

“I know. It was a rhetorical question,” you sighed, moving your legs impatiently. “Why aren't you with her?”

Angie shrugged comically.

“I don't know, she said she wanted to be alone,” Angie explained to you, with a surprisingly calmer tone.

“Um…” you said, arching your eyebrows.

“Let's play again,” the doll said, jumping on the floor. You, tired of that situation, shook your head, getting up with a sigh.

“Maybe later. I'm going to look for her, she might have fallen asleep,” you murmured, moving away from the doll, who suddenly turned around, tugging at your dress.

“Donna doesn't want you there, stupid,” Angie protested. You, with a mocking look, released the wooden hands from your clothes.

“Maybe she doesn’t, but I'm her girlfriend,” you said, walking towards the elevator. “I can bother her if I want.”

Sticking your tongue out at Angie, and enduring her angry insults, you went down to the basement. The place was sinister, but that silence... It wasn't normal.

You walked slowly towards the doors of the workshop, uncomfortable for disturbing her, for disobeying her request of not interrupt her work. But that day it was later than usual, and curiosity and suspicion ran through your veins.

“(Y/N)...” a broken whisper reached your ears behind the wooden doors.

You were about to open them, but upon hearing that panting voice, you stopped with a confused look.

Little by little, you opened the door, poking your head through it, with a perfectly rehearsed look of apology.

What you saw almost made you give yourself away.

The lady in black was sitting in front of her work table, with her head down, with her arm moving slowly between her legs. You opened your eyes wide and covered yourself so as not to laugh at that sight.

Her breathing was labored and her movements were calm, but quite obvious, you knew what she was doing perfectly well.

“Hey, Donna,” you said amused, entering the workshop when she seemed more focused, startling her, making her turn around with a terrified look. “Why didn't you wait for me?”

“What are you doing here?!” she shouted furiously, storing her erection in her dress, hiding something that you had already seen, and that it was too late to hide. “I told you not to disturb me! Cazzo! Go away, fuori! Go away!”

“But Donna, what were you doing?” you said, unmovable by the sudden pushes of the doll maker, who trembled with rage and shame.

“Silenzio! Shut up, go away, go away!” the lady shouted, pushing you desperately, not letting you look at her face.

“Hey, stop, you're hurting me,” you said, rubbing one of your shoulders. That was enough to make her stop growling nervously, returning to her table, not letting you see the blush on her cheeks.

“Go away…” she said, breathing deeply, pointing to the workshop door, turning her back on you.

“No, I'm not leaving,” you said sighing, walking slowly towards her, leaning over to see her face disoriented by your intrusion. “Donna…” you hummed. She pressed her lips together, but didn't look at you. “Were you touching yourself?”

“No,” she answered with a dangerous hiss, avoiding eye contact with you despite your movements to get it.

“Of course you were,” you said amused, with that image firmly fixed in your head, an image that, on the other hand, caused a tickling between your legs. “I caught you, honey.”

“So… So what if you caught me,” the doll maker whispered with a broken voice, with anger being a shield for her shame again. “I can do whatever I want. If I want to masturbate, I’ll masturbate.”

“Oh, sure, right…” you said nodding, letting yourself fall into a nearby chair, holding back your laughter at her attitude. “How selfish of you, you could have called me.”

Donna gasped ironically, shaking her head and closing her eye while she buried her head in her arms.

“Damn…” she murmured, pulling at her hair, not knowing how to deal with that situation.

“Come on, it's okay,” you said, calming your laughter and getting a little closer. “It's something natural. You have nothing to be ashamed of... You know what? The other day in the shower... I started thinking about you and...”

“Taci,” she interrupted you, raising her head and sighing in defeat. “You still don't understand anything, do you?”

“Do I have something to understand?” you asked curiously, seeing how the lady in black didn't seem to want to put up with your jokes.

“Do you think I do it just for fun?” she asked back, with a serious look, with your hand again controlling the trembling of hers. You nodded calmly, frowning.

“Well, people usually do it for fun,” you said softly, understandingly.

“I don't,” she said, removing your hand from hers, turning around so you couldn't see her.

“Oh, okay,” you sighed, resting an elbow on the table. Donna looked at you thoughtfully and tilted her head up, letting the air out of her lungs slowly.

“Maybe, maybe… Before I met you I… I did it from time to time, you know, my body asked for it.”

“Uh-huh,” you said understandingly, nodding, listening attentively. “It's a need.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “But when, when I met you… Everything, everything was so different, so… New to me…”

“I understand,” you whispered, tenderly touching her shoulder. She grabbed your hand, interlacing your fingers, lowering it to her lap.

“I've never made love to anyone, (Y/N). I, I guess you already knew that but, but I've never told you,” Donna confessed to you.

Yes, you already knew, but it was true that it was something you sensed, not that you knew for sure.

“I know, don't worry,” you said, keeping that smile that reassured her.

“Not, not even... You know, before, before... This,” she said, briefly pointing to her lap.

“Well, it doesn't have to be a bad thing,” you said, helping her express herself with soft caresses, with eyes that could only convey love.

“It is!” Donna shrieked abruptly, blinking erratically. “You still, you still don't understand it... I'm, I'm afraid of...”

“Of what, my love?” you asked, guiding her face to yours, a sad and embarrassed face, but equally beautiful.

“Of not satisfying you,” the lady finally said, lowering her head.

“What nonsense,” you joked incredulously, finally giving an explanation to that fear, to that reluctance, to that constant rejection.

“It must be nonsense to you. To me it's not,” she said with a slightly dark tone, annoyed by your words. “I don’t… I don’t know if I’ll be able to… You know, last long enough.”

You blinked, holding back your laughter again. Yes, it was an understandable, but a stupid concern for you.

“Donna,” you said, amused. “Is that why you didn’t want to…?”

“I can’t fail you, (Y/N), you, you’re the love of my life and I’m just… I��m just… Useless.”

“Don’t say that,” you whispered lovingly, turning her face back to look at you. She slowly pulled away, shaking her head. “You’re not useless.”

“I am,” she answered abruptly, controlling the desire she had to lose control of her emotions. “I've been, I've been trying for days… Trying, trying to… La, last a little longer…”

“Wait, days?” you asked amused, opening your eyes wide. “Are you telling me that every time you went down to the workshop it was to…?”

Donna just nodded nervously, hiding her embarrassment as best she could.

“Well, well, well…” you murmured, giving her a nudge. “I didn't expect that.”

“You're making fun of me,” the lady hissed, with a dark look, moving away.

“No, no, Donna,” you said hastily. “I'm not making fun of you, I'm just… I'm surprised.”

“Are you surprised because I masturbate to be able to please you?” she asked in an annoyed, offended manner. You nodded effusively.

“Yes, in fact I am,” you whispered, sighing romantically. “No one has ever done… Something like that for me.”

“Enough, stop laughing at me,” Donna said, furious, getting up from the chair, her breathing altered again. You got up too, waving your hands in a gesture of reassurance.

“Yes, I’m laughing at you,” you admitted cockily, crossing your arms. “Oh, Donna, don't worry. I'll enjoy it, I'm sure.”

“That's what you say now,” she growled, pushing away some wild hands that were pulling at her waist. “Then, you'll, you'll get tired and… You'll, you'll leave me.”

You, not wanting to continue another of her self-presenting monologues, silenced the brunette's fears with a quick, intense but short kiss, which made her blink in confusion.

“Donna… You're very sweet,” you whispered romantically, with an amused but sincere smile, returning the softness of her skin to your hands, caressing her cheek. “You don't have to do that for me, do you understand? I will always love you, I will always want you.”

“But, but…” the lady stammered, on the verge of tears.

“Shh,” you hissed, putting a finger on her lips, with a smile that slowly became seductive. “Do you know how to get rid of the fear of heights?”

Donna shook her head, nervous, but accepting your approach.

“Looking over a cliff…” you whispered in her ear, moving away slowly, taking her hand and leaving the workshop with her.

“Where are we going?” she asked confused, with her hand firmly in yours as your steps, increasingly slower, headed towards the bedroom.

“Let's get this over with,” you said in a velvety tone, opening the door, walking with a soft movement of your hips.

“(Y/N), I…” Donna hesitated, silenced again by one of your kisses.

“Come on, darling, look over the cliff. Donna, love me…” you whispered again, biting her earlobe, dragging her to the bed, on top of you, silencing her fears, her protests with hundreds of kisses, with hands that ran over her body.

Donna was unsure, hesitant and trembling, but, somehow, those caresses, those kisses that you never tired of giving her seemed to have their effect. She kissed you back, in a passionate way, following the rhythm marked by your incipient lust, the one that was stirred and altered by that vision in the workshop.

Your fingers took advantage of the distraction your kisses had on her, running down her dress until they found their prey, those buttons that remained her beautiful body hidden, depriving your eyes of a divine vision.

The brunette kissed you passionately, running over your body, fearful but determined to explore it, not to back down.

Her pale skin was exposed to you when you pushed aside that horrible black fabric, when the tips of your fingers felt the exquisiteness of her half-naked torso, forcing your lips to gasp on hers.

“Donna…” you whispered with a mischievous smile, making her look at you, her eye locking with yours as you guided her hand to the ties of your own dress, which, impatient and expectant, gave way to the skill of her slender fingers.

“Così bella…” she murmured, enthralled by your skin now free of clothing, by your bare shoulders serving as a prelude to the discovery of your body.

You laughed provocatively at those sweet words, those that always made you tremble, pulling down her dress, uncovering her shoulders, letting the fabric, also black, of her bra be your next victim.

“Don't stop kissing me, my love…” you murmured, capturing her lips again, sinking your hands into her soft black hair, drawing her body towards yours, your partially uncovered torsos rubbing together, your hips dancing slowly.

She complied with your request, not letting your lips rest, caressing her tongue with yours, wet, warm kisses, completely different from any other display of affection.

Your hands moved down her back, the clasp of her bra yielding to your fingers, eliciting a soft moan from Donna, one that made you writhe in pleasure. She moved to free herself from that annoying garment, letting your hands now travel to her almost perfect breasts, shiny, pale like her skin, beautiful like her.

The lady in black laughed at your curious touch, at some soft pinches on her nipples, daring to do the same, to mercilessly attack your bra and lower her kisses down your neck.

The panting became rhythmic, measured, matching the movements of your hands, your mouth, your fingers running over her skin, lowering the bottom of her dress little by little, and yours next to it.

“You have a beautiful body,” you commented, breathing after another round of tireless, inexhaustible, pleasurable kisses... She looked at you curiously, then looked at herself, shaking her head. “Well, I'm not surprised. You're a beautiful woman, Donna.”

“You're quite a nice talker,” she said, amused, running the palm of her hand over your breasts, studying every inch of your skin, sighing at the sensations her touch caused, how your flesh felt goosebumps with just the touch of her fingers.

“I'm being honest,” you joked, biting your lip, observing her face in love, a face curious about your body.

“Get, get naked, please,” she asked you in a softer, more pleading tone. You frowned but smiled mischievously, slowly pulling down the rest of your dress, playing with your underwear under her watchful gaze.

“What about you? Come on...” you joked, throwing your clothes in the air, running a hand over her hips, down her back, playing with your movements, noticing her arousal, one that you wanted to see free from its prison.

Donna hesitated again, embarrassed, but your soft kisses, your bright gaze seemed to convince her, moving aside those dark clothes to let you see the rest of her body, so you could admire her beauty, the one she tried so hard to hide.

“Not bad, huh?” you said, biting your lip, admiring her already released erection, the physical desire that showed how much Donna wanted to do that, how much not to feel capable of doing it hurt her. She shook her head, looking at herself and blushing.

“Don’t, don't look at it that way,” the brunette told you shyly, kissing you again so you would stop bothering her with your lascivious gaze.

“I like looking at it, it's nice,” you said in a seductive tone, savoring your words, those that you knew made her more nervous.

“No one had ever said something like that to me, it's embarrassing,” Donna said, laughing shyly.

 She positioned herself better, brushing your now discovered wetness, caressing your folds with curiosity, but strangely, skillfully, knowing what to touch, what to massage….

“Donna…” you moaned when her stimulation made you tremble, when the pleasure of her fingers brushed your clit, exploring your wetness, caressing it as if it were something fragile, beautiful. “That, that's… Great.”

She smiled pleased by your approval, but with a sad face. Yes, you should have known, she wasn't always like this, she knew what she had to do to your body to make it tremble with pleasure.

But you weren't the protagonist. You weren't the one who had to lose your fear. No, that was for Donna, only for Donna.

With a playful laugh, you reached between her legs, unexpectedly grabbing her shaft, stimulating it with gentle caresses, holding it with your fingers, gently moving up and down, positioning it at your entrance.

“Come on, baby, love me…” you whispered, moving your hips so her erection brushed against your wetness, so your entrance received those caresses. The brunette moaned at the contact, closing her eye at that newly discovered pleasure.

Donna nodded, moving to make her way into your body, slowly penetrating you, enjoying every moment of that sensation, the wet journey of her penis inside of you, the welcoming embrace of your wet walls, stretching slowly.

You moaned, surprised by the sensation, overwhelmed by that pleasure you desired and now had.

“Si… si sente così… Bene…” the doll maker stammered, moving very slowly, letting your body receive her, embrace her, experience the unparalleled pleasure of that first time. “Does… Does it hurt?”

You opened your eyes, getting used to that sensation, with the pleasure running through your body, sending electric currents through your nervous system.

“No, of course it doesn’t…” you said smiling, caressing her cheek, enjoying her erratic gaze, disoriented by the pleasure. “But it’s… Quite big…”

“Don't say that, per favore,” she said nervously, looking away, stopping moving, unsure of the shame your lascivious words caused her.

“Okay,” you said, calming the ferocity of your desire, moving your hands to her waist, moving her slowly to resume the pleasure of her body inside of yours. “Move, Donna.”

She nodded nervously, dancing slowly with her hips, moaning at each slow thrust, at how your body caressed her, surrounded her and squeezed her tightly, giving her even more pleasure.

“I, I would have liked to hurt you…” she murmured, now with a constant rhythm, making you stop moaning, opening your eyes with a frown. “So… I would know that… You are only mine…”

You knew she was letting herself get carried away by the pleasure, in fact, you found that brief burst of possessiveness quite erotic, forcing your hips to keep pace with hers, to move a bit faster, just a bit, without losing that warm and soft rhythm.

“Donna, keep going, keep going…” you moaned, losing control too, nervously shaking at her moans, at that shy voice that came out of her lips, at those words that you didn’t understand, but you knew that they only were worshiping your body.

“Wait, wait,” she said suddenly, slowly pulling out of you, shaking her head. You looked at her frustrated at the loss of the path to your release, thinking that, surely, hers was also embarrassingly close.

“Hey, baby, if you're going to cum, do it, it's okay. Don't hold back,” you said with a voice filled with lust, but with the softness that the situation required.

“No, it's not that, I... I want, I want you to... Turn around, please,” Donna asked you, embarrassed. You smiled, seeing that she had finally lost her fear. It would be better not to tell her that it always was your favorite position.

“Mm, okay,” you purred, kissing her quickly and turning yourself onto your stomach while she raised your hips, not wanting to waste time, entering you again, moving your body with her hands.

“Oh, yes... Just like that...” she moaned, thrusting into you in that same slow way, but now more intense, letting you feel her completely, letting her slide, stretching your walls from that different angle. “You are, you are mine, tesoro…”

“I’m yours,” you moaned, gripping the sheets, noticing how your body was shaking worse. Donna moaned again when she heard you, moving faster.

“I, I'm sorry…I, I can't hold it any longer… I'm… I'm going to…” she said nervously, unable to let your hips go, digging her nails into your skin.

“Please… Do it…” you moaned, with a sweet voice, broken by a familiar feeling, by those little tremors in your legs and the desire your muscles had to tense. “Donna… I'm going… I'm going to… Ah!”

You couldn't help it. Your back arched, your walls tightened around her as your orgasm ran through your body.

“Oh…” Donna moaned, overcome by that sensation, releasing herself almost at the same time, inside of you, filling you, claiming you, caressing you with a wet touch, with her warmth seed, stimulating your lust even more. “Cazzo…”

Silence reigned in the room only interrupted by a few nervous breaths, some that tried to recover the air that was missing.

“Donna, come,” you said in a whisper, turning around when she left you, pulling her hand to accompany you to the side of the bed, hugging her with your still trembling hands.

“I, I told you I wouldn't last enough…” she said in a sad voice, snuggling into your chest, embarrassed. You couldn't help but laugh. “(Y/N)…” she whispered annoyed.

“Nonsense Donna, it's been wonderful. You are wonderful.”

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

I dont have a long funny title for these Nimona headcanons

Nimona will steal the boy's stuff all the time 

she’ll eat food off their plates when they’re not looking or will steal their food from the fridge 

She also steals all of Ambrosius’ rubber bands and claw clips 

And when she thinks the boys aren't wearing their clothes enough she’ll take them and either upcycle them or wear them as pajamas 

They’ve asked her a million times why she does this and her answer every single time is “It's fun”

The trio all have stims that the others view as harmful 

When Bal is stressed he’ll grind his teeth or bite his nails 

Nimona will bite his lips or pick at scabs that he let form

Ambrosius will bite the inside of his mouth or pull his hair 

And they all have little signals for each other to make them mindful that they’re doing it 

They don’t try and stop each other they know it’ll just make it worse but it’s a little reminder that they’re doing it 

Just a little “Hey I know you know yourself best and what you can handle but you’re also starting to bleed so please be careful” 

When they have their mouth stims the other will do things like whistle or hum just small things that you can’t do easily when you’re grinding your teeth or biting your mouth/nails

When Nimona is picking at his scabs the boys will tap their feet or drum on their legs 

And when Ambrosius is pulling his hair Nimona and Bal will offer to tie it up or braid it and sometimes they’ll just slide a rubber band over to him

If he doesn’t want the rubber band or doesn’t want them touching him they don’t force him they consider it a success because they still got through to him 

And if he lets them mess with his hair they consider it a bigger success because they love braiding his hair

When Ambrosius doesn’t have to go to work or doesn’t have to be in early Bal and Nimona take turns styling his hair

It doesn’t matter if it takes 5 minutes or 50 he’ll wait patiently for them to finish

And he leaves the house like that too no matter how crazy or stupid it looks

They have a little collection of pictures that they/civilians took and posted of their “masterpieces” 

Ambrosius has an 8-step skincare routine that he does every single day

Doesn’t matter if he’s witnessed every atrocity the world can throw at him he’s still doing it 

He also has a dedicated hair care routine that he spent hours researching 

Bal doesn’t give a singular solitary fuck what he puts on his face

As long as it’s cruelty-free not expensive and works he doesn’t care 

When Bal and Ambrosius first became friends Bal told him that he didn’t really wash his face even after he joined the institute 

Ambrosius almost passed out while whining about how the world is a cruel and unusual place 

He has worn Bal down over the years and made him use two products face wash and moisturizer 

He also found out that Nimona doesn’t take care of their skin at all

And when they saw how shocked Ambrosius was they continued by saying “In fact I take dirt baths like a chinchilla”

All he could choke out was “My lovely little tornado why?” They started laughing and claimed it’s “good for my immune system” 

Which caused Ambrosius to ask almost hysterically “What immune system?!”

[tsbs-shipfessions]

Ship confessions?

S..Safe place to share rants?

Oh dear how should I say this...

(Warning for anyone not supporting SolarNexus I guess..)

As much as I like the story of how New Moon went deranged from grief and self deterioration: as in finally realising he can never satisfy this "family's" need of him to be thee og Moon himself. A carbon copy replacement with unrealistic expectations set at full high. (Even though factually thanks to Eclipses V1-4 transitions it's shown that it can't possibly be 100% accurate.) Failing again and again over and over till the event of Solar's death finally snapping him. Derailing himself to push everyone away to the point of losing himself entirely as Nexus.

And Solar valuing New Moon so much that he was in absolute distraught when the first thing he hears upon waking was that his best friend, HIS REASON OF HOME, lost himself so far in the name of lone desperation. A desperation he knows all too well thanks to his past Moon's ungracious reaction to unfortunate loss.

Solar knows what it's like to be alone and afraid. He can't possibly leave Nexus like the others like the flip of the switch! Because just as he gave mercy to Eclipse and Ruin, he'd give mercy to Nexus too.

The canon doesn't make any sense!

And, well, being a silent (yet intimidated from this fandom) supporter of SolarNexus...

The angst writer side of me wishes that this story didn't clap off to the cliche "power hungry" complex.

Why not have Solar continue to drive himself to find some cure or solution? In the name of friendship; to justify himself that he can fix it all before it's too late. To not lose another from his (falsely blamed and uncontrolled) faults. To be the reassurance of comfort Nexus so desperately needed.

Why not have Nexus secretly die inside whenever he speaks the words he does not mean; unwillingly pushing himself to the edge every time he starts to believe hope can be retrieved. Falling in the spiral that nothing is real and he has no right to feel and express. The moment Nexus felt like grasping on light is when strings of dark pull him to a choke to remind just exactly who he's working with. Why he even decided to make a deal with DarkSun. That no matter how Nexus puts it, he technically is a husk for dark star power. An element. Like a living battery for some bigger project he may not be entirely aware of. (And my best guess: a tragic death to Dark Sun's intricate plans.)

A reminder so cruel and twisted that Nexus can't possibly see a way out without Solar's guidance and safety.

Life was never fair for the both of them. They both suffered at being blamed and antagonised for things they had no proper control over. They both had self doubts and a sense that they were never home.

(For f--k's sake! Nexus was LOSING HIS MIND!! CRITICAL DANGER OF WELL BEING, and the "family" decided: Hey! Instead of actually getting him proper treatment, lets just lock him in a cell and keep calling him a villain for insulting people! An action he had no say over because HAHA he LoSt hIs mInD. Wha- eH- HUUEUUH???? NnNO???)

But ey! They were Home for each other.

That's why Solar and NM/Nexus's friendship worked so well! They had a sense of comfort to speak and express openly, to have negativity or concerns spill out without backlash. To actually live freely knowing they have each others back!

And I'd like to believe they'd still ache to have this connection again. That Solar would do whatever it takes to have Nexus free from his chains.

Not to be welcomed by the "family", but to be welcomed by Solar's own loving arms. To get proper care, proper help, proper recognition of all parts of Nexus. Both good and bad.

I really think there's tragedy love potential here. I wished to see them fight whatever forces against them to be together again. To get at least that ounce of safety within the chaos.

Whether it's fighting mental illness or dark star power. Who cares! They gonna be together again dAhM iT! Even if it's just a minute before tragic death from DarkSun or somethin! T-T

*COUGH* oUgh man.. what a doozy of a topic..

Thank you so much for reading! And for making this confessions blog! I appreciate it! Was really good to have this off my chest. Wish you and everyone reading a wonderful day/evenin! :)

I admire the hell out of your passion. This was a good read, and has a lot of neat points. Nice going, Anon.

[mageknight14]

What It Means to be Friends: The Differences between Neku/Beat and Rindo/Fret 

I’m feeling in the mood for another TWEWY analysis post and for today’s topic of discussion, this will be centered around Beat and Neku’s friendship in comparison to Rindo and Fret’s own and how they contrast in very interesting ways that are reflective of their respective game's writing styles.

I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that Neku and Beat didn’t exactly get off to the best start in the beginning of their relationship in the original. Hell, if anything, they flat out disliked each other. Beat saw Neku as nothing more than an emotionally distant asshole who made his little sister feel bad for trying to help him out and Neku saw Beat as nothing more than an overly emotional idiot who’s way too energetic for his own good and initially wants nothing to do with him.

There are little cracks that start to form in the walls between them, however, where their respective duos start coming together to help each other out in the Game and they start to form a little friendly rivalry between them. Mostly on Beat’s side since Neku could care less. However, that bit of bonding gets interrupted by a cruel twist of fate: Rhyme’s sacrifice and subsequent erasure. In which Beat, in a mix of grief and desperation to save his little sister, begs to and subsequently joins the Reapers, much to Neku and Shiki’s shock.

And then, Kitaniji asks Beat to do one task to show his dedication to the Reaper cause: kill Neku! (and Joshua). Initially, Beat tries to draw upon his dislike of Neku from the start of the game to motivate himself into completing his task but he just can’t go through with it no matter what, a feeling that only gets worse when Neku gives him Rhyme’s pendant that he dropped, thus invalidating Beat's previous resentment towards him. Seeing Neku go out of his way to return something precious to Beat even after he had antagonized him throughout the week causes Beat to drop his animosity completely and the next time we see him, he’s rescuing Neku from a unwinnable scenario by becoming his partner in Week 3.

From then on, we see Neku and Beat’s dynamic start to become more whole, opening up to each other more and helping the other through their struggles and ultimately culminating with them becoming genuine friends by the end. By the time W3 starts, they’re the only actual Players left in the Game, in the middle of a life-or-death situation, AND have the entirety of the UG after them due to Kitaniji activating Emergency Call. With circumstances like those, it’s no wonder they become as thick as thieves. Beat relies on Neku to help keep his head on straight and set him on the right path so that his temper and rash personality doesn’t end up screwing them over when things get rough, something Beat can't afford whatsoever when it comes to his mission of trying to save Rhyme.

Likewise, Neku relies on Beat to help keep his feet moving instead of allowing him to wallow in his own head when aspects such as Hanekoma potentially becoming the Composer becomes emotionally and be strong enough to catch him when he stumbles and falls. On top of that, he also trusts Beat’s emotional intelligence and honesty in matters such as when Beat convinces him to spare Uzuki and Kariya.

You see this dynamic persist in NEO as well even after all of the time they spent separated, in which Beat is heavily implied to have physically searched for Neku throughout all of Shibuya (remind you of anything?) and even take up some of his aspects, like the headphones, to honor his friend. And considering how Neku has helped him save his little sister and supported him when the chips were down, it's honestly no wonder.

Beat even flat out admits to Nagi that he was in some measure putting up a front to mask his fears and doubts and is quite calmer when Neku is around compared to NEO’s weeks 1-2. Not that his hot-blooded energy is gone but he notably isn’t as prone towards picking fights or shouting. Meanwhile, Neku is out of the loop after having been away for three years but Beat is again there to pick him up where he falters and help guide him around. The two of them are best friends through and through.

By contrast, we have Rindo and Fret, whose dynamic is quite different from Neku and Beat’s but is nonetheless just as well-written. I think the start of the game does an excellent job at setting up their relationship, where their early dynamic is fully on display in which Fret drags Rindo around and Rindo just casually goes with it despite internally bitching and moaning along the way. Like Beat and Neku, their friendship is mutually beneficial towards the other but in a much more casual and "shallow" way that’s very interesting.

They both want to be around one another in order to cover up for each other’s faults and their flaws feed into a loop that prevents the friendship advancing so that they don’t have to try but when it actually comes under serious strain, the flaws are exposed. Rindo being closed-off and content with just letting things stay on the surface level is perfect for Fret since he doesn't need to address his true feelings whatsoever and also fulfills his desire for someone to talk to because Fret is a pretty social guy and the class clown, letting him ignore his own problems. For Rindo, Fret allows him to also fulfill his desire for social companionship while not digging too deep and delude himself into thinking he’s autonomous and avoid the hurdles that comes with decision-making, which Fret is aware of and fine with because he’s more of a follower. The restaurant choice at the beginning of the game is a perfect example of this. At first glance, you think it’s just Rindo making a choice until you realize that it’s mainly Fret narrowing down the choices for Rindo without his input and he’s perfectly okay with that.

You also see this pop up again when Fret makes Rindo the leader of the group ALSO without his input so that he doesn’t have to get emotionally invested in the role and put the spotlight on himself. And initially, both are content with this and continue this dynamic throughout the first week of the Game, that is until shit hits the fan in Week 2. With the stakes becoming far more apparent and serious than they initially thought, and having to start another Game after getting cheated out of their victory, along with Sho just flat out ditching them and leaving the team to fend for themselves, tensions start to rise high between Rindo and Fret, which this ends up putting a strain on their relationship and we see the flaws in the friendship get exposed.

They start becoming more casually dismissive of each other’s interests whereas before they were just cool with whatever with Rindo not giving any regard to Fret’s interest in fashion and Fret mocking Rindo’s friendship with Swallow out of frustration, where Fret is pushing for Rindo to do anything regarding them considering Swallow's obvious involvement in the Game, and Rindo doesn’t want them to get upset so he pushes the issue away for later. Whereas Rindo is getting frustrated with Fret's self-defeatist attitude while not doing anything to help out with the situation that they're in, thus having them go back-and-forth and arguing with one another.

What makes this hit harder in hindsight is that this aspect was always apparent when you look back at the beginning. They bicker, like, a lot and the most noticeable example in W1 is the Nagi argument, where Rindo doesn’t see how she can help, worried about being held down by strangers, while Fret pushes for recruiting her, worried about having to handle a tougher burden on his own.

The part where they were in the ramen shop at the start of the game also does a good job at setting up this kind of relationship. Fret didn't know that Rindo played FanGO or was friends with Swallow, which heavily implies that they don't know that much about each other before entering the Game and later on, you see how Rindo constantly keeps Fret at arm’s length and opens up mainly to Swallow while Fret didn’t even talk to Rindo about his best friend that committed suicide. And in Week 2, these aspects become far more pronounced and the two become far more prone to taking passive-aggressive shots towards one another, culminating in their argument at the end of W2D4. I think what Rindo says to Fret in particular here is pretty telling of how he doesn't think that Fret is taking the situation seriously in spite of him actually showing otherwise what with his constant prodding. It's also hilariously indicative of Rindo's hypocrisy considering how he's constantly relying on others' input before making any actual decisions on his own, such as with Swallow in the very next scene and the day after.

However, despite all of this, they still do genuinely care for each other. Rindo’s first use of Replay was spurred on via wanting to save Fret from getting flattened by a truck and Fret is always pushing Rindo towards becoming more and more decisive in small ways. Most notably, when everyone except for Rindo gets erased by Soul Pulvis and he’s the only one to make it back to the UG, who’s the first one he calls out and tries to look for? Fret.

I’ve seen some people complain about how Rindo and Fret’s friendship doesn’t feel especially deep when compared to some of the other relationships in the series when I’d argue that’s the entire point. They’re not childhood friends who know every single thing about each other from the start unlike some JRPGs out there or a duo who starts off hating one another before gradually becoming closer to one another due to the stakes of the situation they’re in. They’re really casual school friends who keep each other at arms’ length out of an attempt to keep themselves protected. Their relationship is interesting to analyze because it's layered, much like a real friendship would be, due to them dealing with their own personal issues. And yet it never feels like one can just call it shallow or deep and have either be a definite despcriptor, just a well developed bond. Fret is still reeling from his previous best friend’s suicide and Rindo has social anxiety out the ass so their bond makes perfect sense.

And on top of that, they do gradually become closer to one another. Fret starts taking Rindo’s interests more seriously, even becoming disgusted at Motoi on Rindo’s behalf and sad for him as well as showing understanding to him concerning his Swallow situation.

And Rindo starts taking Fret more seriously as a person, with W3D3 being a prime example. He brings up the possibility that Kanon is acting strangely and might be possessed, brings up calm, rational points that the others have no choice but to agree to and doesn’t try to force Fret to keep his feelings for her down, rationalizing that there might just be another way to save her and assuring him that it’s ultimately Fret’s choice because he respects his input. And when Fret shows up anyway to try and save Kanon, he doesn't hesitate to support his buddy in his endeavors and does his damndest to help. On top of that, he becomes far more supportive towards Fret’s interests, particularly with EleStra, and is happy for him.

I think that shift from the ingenuine to genuine is what NEO excels at with its character relationships and by the end, you can really see Rindo and Fret really coming together as friends that genuinely respect and trust one another.

Neku and Beat’s friendship is much more bombastic and in-your-face while Rindo’s and Fret’s friendship relies on the more little details and I think both work well for their respective game and themes. You have the story of a distant and hostile kid having developed into a more personable young man using his lessons to relate with a seemingly gruff and bullheaded guy only to find a shockingly self aware young man who hates himself and lost his only support become more sure of himself vs. the story of two seemingly close friends grinding against each other due to their underlying issues surfacing, deepening their bond through their honesty and growing self-awareness. The first is more conventionally written while the second is a bit more subtle and requires deeper inspection in order to get the full picture.

[wonnieluvr]

forever with you

pairing -> grayson hawthorne x fem!reader

summary -> you break off your current relationship for grayson hawthorne, a past love. logically, you know you shouldn't but the heart wants what it wants.

warnings -> none :)

a/n -> some fluff for my love finally !! pt 3 of photographs of you and thinking of you

seeing grayson again had not been in your plans. at all. you didn't know how you were supposed to explain any of what had happened to your family or to your date. your boyfriend. it wasn't an engagement you had really wanted, just something that would put you a step further ahead in life and he was nice, he treated you well.

but he wasn't grayson. he wasn't your grayson.

that shouldn't have mattered, you mother reminded you harshly the minute word of your meeting reached your family. as you had returned to the gala your mother immediately cut in, having heard grayson's name, warning you not to make any rash decisions.

was it really a rash decision if you had been waiting years for a moment like this?

your date had quickly noticed the change in demeanour. he was swift to pull you away.

as you danced in a room full of people, it should have been him on your mind. he, who was touching you, holding you gently and dancing with you carefully. but it wasn't. no matter how hard you tried it wouldn't ever be.

"you love him" the words had startled you, but they weren't untrue. your boyfriend offered you a small smile, bittersweet and so understanding. you hated it. hated the way you had never fallen for one another. maybe then you would have had no trouble. it might have been simple. you had shared stories of those you had truly loved, first loves gone wrong. you had bonded over that. the hurt.

and here you were now, selfishly considering your second chance while he was stuck without one. "darling, you love him. you can't do anything about that" he dipped you softly, eyes saying everything as you stared at each other. "it's okay"

your eyes begun to water for the second time that night. "i can't do that to you" your voice was full of pain and sadness as you stood straight again. "i don't know if i can do this"

"stop it" he chided softly, brushing your hair back into place as you both paused in your dance. "you would tell me to take my chance if she came back to me. so, i'm doing the same for you. you deserve to be happy. it's okay"

your shoulders dropped slightly, pained and fighting your raging emotions. "but i-"

"sh, go to him" he held your cheeks in his hands for a moment, gently caressing your face, admiring your beauty. "but if he breaks your heart again, i don't care who he is i will kick his ass"

you laughed softly, humourless. you couldn't help the way your heart filled with such great sadness for the boy you had come to spend so much time with. but your grayson was waiting, the same way you had been these past years. you had a chance and you'd be damned if you didn't take it.

you had cursed the hawthorne boy for years. you had harboured hate for the whole family after what they had said to you. you loved gray, yes but it wasn't going to heal those wounds over night. breaking off your relationship for him was something your parents advised against, very strongly when you had told them what you were doing. your mother had tried to dissuade you, remind you off their cruel words, the way they had treated you.

"i can't just give up. i have to try, i love him" you had pleaded. they had shaken their heads but they understood what this meant to you. they had hated seeing their little girl so hurt but they couldn't deny the happiness that had come before that. the way life shone in you when you had been with grayson was something they had never seen since.

it was worth the chance if you believed it was.

you met with grayson a week later. both of you were nervous, unsure of what to say to one another. you had barely ever seen this side of gray, the one who worried and fretted, the one who cared so openly.

while he had shared smiles and murmured words of love to you he had never really showed you himself. he had never been brave enough to truly let you in. and now he was.

he stood before you now, normally steady hands holding out flowers to you with a slight tremor to them. he had shown up at your door, sudden but expected, with the hopes of rekindling your relationship.

"gray" you breathed out, eyes widening when you opened your door to his figure. he wore a suit, as usual, but no matter how many times you saw him, he never failed to make your heart flutter. "hi"

you offered him a small smile, neither of you knowing how to proceed.

he stared at you for a moment longer before he blinked slowly, coming back to reality.

"hello, these are for you" he spoke softly, he had never used the hawthorne tone with you. even if he did, you would never have needed him to. he only needed to ask and you would have done anything he wanted.

"thank you, they're beautiful" you ignored the heat in your cheeks as you took the bouquet from him, fingers brushing his. you disappeared inside for a moment, putting them away in a vase and grabbing your bag before returning to the door.

"shall we?" you asked, trying to appear more confident than you felt.

if he noticed your nervousness he didn't mention it, merely holding an arm out to you, leading you to the car. he was tense, you noted. he knew it would take more than flowers to win you over again. and he was desperate to win you over.

"where are we going?" you asked, once you were both seated in the car, buckling your seatbelt up before properly turning to him. he was already looking at you, gaze soft.

"where would you like to go?"

with anyone else you would have frowned. you would have taken that as a cop out, a hint that he didn't know you and that he hadn't put the proper effort in to make the date special.

but this was grayson. grayson who bled power and control. he had a plan for everything and he had always had backups. he was giving that control to you.

you smiled softly, a memory coming to mind immediately as you glanced out the window to take in the weather.

a storm was coming despite the heat.

"what about the beach?"

the scene between you two was exactly like that of when you had visited last. it was the same beach you remembered, practically empty as a summer storm threatened the peace. the wind whistled in the quiet, as you walked side by side.

neither of you spoke for moment before you found yourselves in a familiar alcove. you smiled at the memory, warmth filling you despite the cold sea breeze.

"do you remember?" you turned to the tall boy beside you. he, once again, already had his eyes on you, watching you walk. you could practically see the two of you in his eyes, the same colour of the sea as you had unknowingly posed for his camera back then.

"how could i forget?" he whispered quietly, his hand reaching out for your face, pausing before he could actually touch you.

you didn't speak, breath catching in your throat as you stared into his eyes. you felt like you were back there again. back when everything had been fine, when there was nothing holding you back.

"i'm sorry" his expression twisted, lips forming a frown as he glanced away. his hand dropped away from you. he didn't deserve to hold you, to love you. "i hurt you and i-"

"stop" you shook your head, taking his hand in yours, gently squeezing it. the sensation was as familiar as it was foreign. "you are not your family, gray. i'm here for you not them. yes, you hurt me when you didn't say anything but i know how much pressure you're under"

"that's not an excuse-" he begun again, hand clinging to yours.

"i'm not saying it is" you grinned a cheeky smile, trying to lighten the mood. "you have a lot of making up to do"

he just blinked at you, mind running rampant with ways he could possibly do that. your grin only widened as you spoke your next words.

"you can start with giving me a kiss" you reached your free hand up to tap your lips, puckering them playfully and awaiting his move.

he didn't stay frozen for much longer, how could he ever refuse you? he let his own smile grow as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

he pulled back first, but he couldn't move far, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck, holding him close. his hands automatically moved to your waist.

"i have a few more requests to make before i can forgive you" you announced into the centimetres between you. "but i think i need a few more kisses first"

he released a small laugh, eyes shining as he watched your lips move. "is that so?" he hummed, dipping down again to press his mouth to yours. he paused before he could, murmuring lowly. "and how long do i have to complete these requests, darling?"

"forever, gray"

-

the hawthorne empire's heir, grayson hawthorne, is rumoured to be dating. find out more here.

"well, shit"

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Sometimes when Harry looks at Tom, he's reminded of a lesson one of his muggle teachers gave on reptiles. Chameleons that can change their skin colour to blend into their surroundings or anoles that shed their tails to distract a predator and escape – adapting in order to survive, no matter what it takes.

Harry is himself, to a fault. He spent so long beaten down and trying to disappear so he wouldn’t draw his relatives’ ire that he now refuses to hide or apologise for who he is and what he wants. It probably helps that his wants are pretty basic – good food, good friends, a warm, comfortable place to live, someone to love him – and that he inherited the money and name to easily achieve them.

Tom, on the other hand, is so used to being smoke and mirrors and disguising what he wants and what he is in order to pretend to be what others want or need. 

He’d been unapologetically (and tyrannically) himself in his childhood, his magic giving him the power to exert his will over others. But Tom is brilliant and a quick learner, and his first interaction with Dumbledore, which he’d described late one night to Harry when the shadows hid both their faces, had proven a subtler touch might be needed.

Now, Tom reflects other peoples’ desires back at them in order to draw them in, and deflects the conversation away from himself so he never has to clearly define his own position. He doesn’t change himself, but everyone seems to believe Tom is on their side – that they’re on the same page. And because of his power and charm and good looks, everyone wants Tom on their side.

Harry has seen this happen many, many times, and he’s still in awe of how Tom affably manipulates those around him into doing what he wants. How Tom determines what someone wants, says just enough to convince them he does too without committing to anything, and twists that connection into a shape that best suits him.

In fact, the only reason Harry believes Tom actually likes him is because Tom never pretends to be what he thinks Harry wants him to be. Tom is petty and says cruel things and lets Harry see him when he’s less than perfectly put together. And Harry treasures each of Tom’s sharp edges, because he’s the only one who gets to see him as he is. He hoards each truth and preference that Tom chooses to share with him like a squirrel preparing for a long, hard winter.

The trouble comes when people talk to Harry about Tom. By virtue of association, Harry’s had to learn to deflect and prevaricate and lie, though he’s still not very good at it. He does a lot of nodding and smiling and making thoughtful “hmm” sounds as people ask him what Tom thinks of this or that. It’s easier than keeping Tom’s machinations straight in his head.

There are moments when Harry isn’t sure Tom even knows who he is at his core. He is so meticulous about his public persona that Harry doubts anyone else knows which foods Tom actually likes (given the chance, Tom would eat ice cream every day), or what he actually thinks about quidditch (he finds it unbearably dull), or what he thinks of muggles (he’ll never be fond of them due to his treatment as a child, but he doesn’t particularly care beyond that) or muggleborns (new blood is necessary for the magical world to continue, but the mages with the deepest pockets are the most bigoted and ‘traditional’) or purebloods (gullible).

And after the tenth meal of eating foods he doesn’t like, or the fifth quidditch match or ministry event or pureblood soirée in a week, or the nth political tapdance before the Wizengamot, pretending to represent everyone’s interests at once without alienating anyone – and quietly getting his own agenda voted through – Harry has to wonder how Tom stays sane. How it all seems worth it. It certainly doesn’t to Harry.

But that’s Tom. Ambitious to a fault, and willing to sacrifice almost anything in order to achieve his goals.

And whatever other people might think, Harry’s not naive. He knows there’s a chance Tom is lying to him, too. He knows it’s possible – even likely – that Tom figured out that the best way to get Harry on his side would be to give him the best illusion of the truth. Show him some darkness and Harry will believe he’s getting honesty. He’s made his peace with this and decided he’d rather give Tom the benefit of the doubt and be a fool than abandon the other man when he’d chosen to be vulnerable with Harry.

So, when Harry brings home Indian takeaway and offers Tom a bite of his rogan josh, only for Tom to casually say, “I don’t really like lamb,” Harry is fascinated and utterly thrilled.

Especially since he’d seen Tom eat lamb chops at a dinner party two weeks ago with nary a moment of hesitation or complaint.

Harry makes sure to leave plenty of the chicken tikka masala for Tom and mentally notes this new preference down. He’s collected a new fact about Tom.

He spends the rest of the meal with a silly little grin on his face.

[moronkombat]

okay so I’ve never done this before 😭

but can I request a nsfw work on Tomas being frustrated over how Bi-Han treats him that he sleeps with Bi-Han’s wife who also loves Tomas 👀 like Tomas is so frustrated and Bi-Han’s wife offers him leverage even if it’s cheating on Bi-Han?

decided to take some creative liberties with this prompt and made it into tomas is frustrated with bi-han and decides he's going to take his frustrations out on bi-han's sweet little wife

tw: afab pronouns and anatomy, dub/noncon, breeding kink/pregnancy mention unprotected sex

Tomas had known her since he first came to join the Lin Kuei family. She had been the daughter of a close family friend and someone Tomas had become rather fond of her. She sweet, kind and always very understanding. The very opposite of Bi-Han and yet his eldest brother had been the one to capture her heart. When he saw the two of them embrace each other, Tomas felt as if nothing in the world would ever go right for him.

No matter how hard he tried to win her favor, she always had eyes for the cryomancer. Yes, she and Tomas spent time together but it was never anything more than a cordial and friendly chat between friends. Tomas wanted so much more than just friends. Yet she remained with Bi-Han and when he heard word of their proposal Tomas truly felt lost.

For years he has kept these envies to himself, watching from just the corner of his eye when Bi-Han and her were together. She smiles so sweetly with him. Never did she smile like that around Tomas. Though, this beautiful flower always kind, no matter the occasion. He treats Tomas with grace, respect and care. Did her husband share this trait? No.

Whatever Tomas seemed to do, Bi-Han was critical and disapproving. They do not share blood. They are not brothers. Tomas could never change that, he never could hope to. This day no exception as Tomas had been reminded of his commoner status yet again by his eldest brother. His only option to stand there and listen to this verbal lashing, waiting to be dismissed.

Upon his dismissal, Tomas had sought refuge in one of the dojos. There he stands, hand covering his brow, as he ponders all the failures Bi-Han saw him as. It isn't fair. It isn't right. Why is Tomas always met with such contempt when all he tries to do is receive acceptance?

"Tomas?" her voice an instant calming flow, "Thought I would find you here?"

A hand slides down the length of his face and he turns to look at the one who has always accepted him. Eyes softened, lips curved and offering a smile...she always so divine, so perfect. Tomas finds himself sighing and relaxing into the wall. Footsteps approach and her warmth radiates close. There's something tingling up his spine while she stands with him. So close, so close.

"'My husband giving you trouble, again?" Comes her inquisition and Tomas need not even answer her. Her posture and overall demeanor softens. "I'm sorry. It isn't right for him to become so upset with you."

His heart hangs heavy. It always her apologizing for Bi-Han behavior for his mistreatment of others. It is enraging to know that someone so sweet takes on the burdens of a brother most vile. Tomas can hear her voice, the words she says always so lovely, but he is unable to listen. No, his grey eyes merely watch her plush and tender lips move. Are they soft? They must be...they be so soft and comforting. Eyes continue their path...such a slender neck, smooth and warm skin.

Tomas can't stop himself not when eyes fall upon her chest. How unfair seeing the fabric stretch like that. Large breasts hide beneath it, just begging to be revealed. Fingers twitch as he imagines what it's like to hold them against his palms. What else could his hands do? That waist of hers...so tight and begging to be grabbed and pulled. Push and pull against his body again and again.

Shit...why does she have to do this? How can she be so cruel to taunt him with her body that so forbidden to him. It's not fair. It's not right. Nothing ever has gone right for Tomas, why does she have to rub it in by standing there looking so...tempting?!

Desire, so much of it, how is expected not to drown? Hands that flinch and wince now spring to life. They grab, they shove and he hears her shriek. Bodies pressed together, she trapped and ensnared and Tomas holds the key to escape. Large hands encompass her wrists, holding her against a wall. She struggles, squirming and writhing against him. Feels good...it feels so good!

Tomas pressed himself as close as he can to her, hot breath dancing against a slim neck. A stiff erection begins to burn and Tomas is so desperate for relief while she continues to move against his body. A tongue so damp licks at her skin and shaking hands begin to roam uncharted territory. The fabric of her dress so pretty against begging palms. He hears her pleading with him, asking him what he's doing and why but Tomas can only hear how delicious her voice sounds like this.

Hips begin to buck, rutting up against her to establish some sort of friction for his growing arousal. None of Tomas can remain still when he has her captured like this. He gropes and caresses all the curves he can. Pulling at her dress to better reveal secrets he could have never dreamed of revealing. Yet here she is, supple breasts exposed that Tomas quickly latches himself onto.

There's a new noise at his ears then, something very dangerous and it shoots right down to Tomas' desperate cock. She's whining, it feels good? He's making her feel good. Invigorated, Tomas begins to luck and suck at perked and blushing nipples. So easily his lips encompass such a beautiful little bud and how perfectly his tongue swirls around it. There's more of those pretty sounds from her and Tomas uses an unoccupied hand to bring her hand to his hard erection.

He can feel her wrist attempting to pull away. How dare she. Doesn't she know he's like this because of her? Because she is always walking around flaunting that lewd body of hers. This is her fault. There is only her to blame for what's happening. Tomas' grip on her wrist steels and he begins manipulating her hand so that she caresses him through his trousers.

"T-Tomas...!" Words are finally coherent again. "Please, you don't mean to do this!"

It is her attempt to reason with him, to still he the very good in him that Bi-Han could never see. Tomas groans and moves his lips from her breast torrid and wild. "Tom-!"

He can't hear her again, lips are pressed onto hers so rough and desperate. Even as she tries to resist, his tongue and hers still collide so gracefully.

"So pretty, you're so pretty." Tomas whines against her in that moment of breath. "I gotta taste you. You're making me go crazy. Fuck, you're always teasing me."

Panicked, afraid, she looks to him. "Tomas, I don't know what you're talking about! Ple-!" She screams, her world spinning as eyes come to witness the wall.

There's a gasp, hands are pulling her hips and soon she feels herself being bent over. She has no choice but to place her palms flat against the wall if she did not want to tumble. Her legs are moved apart and a dress is hiked up around her waist. Over her shoulder she is met with the wild and drunk gaze of her dear friend Tomas.

Bending down, he can feel himself shaking and trembling as he looks at her soaked panties. She's wet, so wet, practically dripping and she knows it too. There is a great shame within her, knowing she's been turned on by someone other than her husband but her body cannot deny pleasure no matter who gives it.

"You're so wet here." Tomas muses, pressing finger against the warmth of her panties. "So sticky...fuck, I gotta taste your pussy."

Her mouth parts to protest but there is only a moan as the flat of his tongue lays against her clothed pussy. Such a betraying moan, she bites her lip to keep herself quiet but Tomas does not stop. His tongue tangos against her nectar stained panties, pushing and sucking. Nails claw at the wall and thighs shake that he teases her like this. Why does it feel so amazing? She loves her husband so much but...this just feels so good!

Teeth slip and her moans are freed into the empty air. Such pretty music she makes for him and Tomas is only fueled to keep going. "You like this, baby? You like me teasing you pussy like this?"

No, this is so filthy. Bi-Han has never talked to her like this. No, Bi-Han always so sweet with his words but Tomas...so cruel and yet why does something within her twist and turn so tightly?

"Ah, you're getting even more wet. You must be really perverted, huh? So fucking hot..." Tomas breathes before continuing. He not even touching her core directly and still he has her moaning like this. "S-Shit, you just can't keep quiet. I'm gonna end up cumming just from listening to you."

That would be her salvation, wouldn't it? If he came now, then nothing could progress further. Please, please just finish! But there is no salvation awaiting her. No, instead her panties are pulled away and cool air greets her. No, no! Tomas could cum from just the sight of her pretty little pussy. Such a lovely color...Tomas quivers, fuck he needs to take her now

Sounds of clothing shifting and Tomas holds the base of his hard and thick length. The tip slides against her pussy, coating it so sticky in beautiful glistening wetness. She gasps and begins to beg. "No...! No Tomas don't! Please!"

Her pleas fall so silent, Tomas will not be denied that which should have always been his. His hands grab onto her hips, pushing into soft skin. "I'm gonna fuck you now, okay? I just gotta fuck you. I've always wanted to so...you'll let me, right?"

Words are spoken yet Tomas seems not to be interested in a response. Eyes captured by madness, there is no shred of hesitation left within him now.

"No, wait! Stop!" She tries again but she should have learned that there is no happy ending for her. Tomas' length rubs against her wet pussy, coating it in all her slick and warmth. She can hear him panting just from this, she knows he is excited to fuck her. He's so eager, desperately rutting himself against her in an attempt to enter her.

"S-Shit, it won't go in..." Tomas breaths as he rushes to penetrate that which does not belong to him. He moves a hand to stabilize himself and finally the bulbous and engorged tip spreads her apart. Eyes fly open and a back in bending. No...No! Walls are pried apart as his cock makes its shaky way inside her. Further and further those spongy walls are pulled apart but oh do they cling and wrap around him.

Tomas is moaning, watching as her greedy pussy swallows up his cock from tip to base. Hips slam together and now he is fully nestled inside. The warmth, the comfort, there no better bliss than to be engulfed by her. Tomas lightly swivels his hips, this length moving so snugly against her insides and she cries out.

"You're so tight...sucking me in like that. Such a great pussy. Damn, babe, I can hardly move you're clinging to me so much." She hates that he is right. She hates how her pussy so quickly wrapped around his cock as if he were her dear husband. Tomas can only move his hips shallowly, allowing her pussy to adjust to the foreign intrusion. Her mind knows this is wrong, that she only wants to ever do something like this with her husband but the body wants what it craves. Right now it craves the maelstrom that is Tomas.

Brows pinch together and fingers bruise tender flesh, Tomas can't tolerate this pace any longer. He needs more, he will have more. Skin against skin, the slap of it such a beautiful symphony that fills the room as he begins to fuck her tight little cunt raw. Each thrust brings forth a moan from both of them.

"So good, you feel so good." words slip between breaths as Tomas continues to ravage her. "Your cunt is so fucking tight. It feels like you're suffocating me, babe. Shit, your pussy is the best."

The words have her sick yet his body has her reaching divinity more and more. His cock stretches and fills up all of her, she can feel him so deep inside.

"T-Tomas...please..-" words cannot continue, the moans and mewls leave no room for them.

The sound of his names coming from her lewd and plush lips has Tomas throbbing and straining inside her. "Y-Yeah! Say my name again! Fuck, say my name again, babe!"

She resists, biting her bottom lip and sucking it in. No, she can't. She mustn't moan the name of another man. Her silence is infuriating and Tomas grits his teeth. A hand raises only to come down upon the flesh of her round and shapely ass. The skin there like rippling waves and her entire body tensing and Tomas feels every little bit of it.

"S-Shit! You're squeezing my dick so much! Fuck, you like that? Fucking dirty bitch...!" So horrible, so wonderful. No, this can't be.

Once again his hand punishes her and she can only whimper and shake under him. Her body responds the same, with lust and treachery. She thinks of Bi-Han and her eyes close. Apologies ring in her head over and over again. They compete with the corruption that is pleasure and all of its temptations.

"Such a good slut. God, I love you so much. You feel amazing!" Words from him begin to strain as colors so unspeakable begin to rise into view. "I just can't stop fucking you."

Her body never wants him to stop. The sex he gives so brutal, so feral. They like animals mating with the way they move and moan. Her head is dizzy, her pussy is wet and dripping, it's so good, it's too good.

"T-Tomas..!" A bond is broken, a name is said. "Tomas! I-I can't...!"

She can and she will. Tomas slams himself into her abused cunt again and again, the sounds of their sex so mind numbing. "That's it! Say my name again! S-Shit...I'm not gonna last...!"

Horror, terror, the realization. He's going to cum, he's going to finish soon. No! No! Please not that! "N-Not...inside! You can't!" Those the only words she can manage but they are not the words Tomas wanted.

"Inside? Yeah, Imma cum inside you. I'm gonna cum inside your slutty pussy." Tomas steels himself, he will have no other option. It is his right to do so. She always belonged to him. "Fuck that...idiot Bi-Han. Stealing you from me like that. You should be my wife."

The heat, it is rising it is coiling. Her walls tremble to match his throbbing length. Together they dance, together they reach the sky. Such beautiful rhythms around his cock she provides as her orgasm overtakes her into the pits of calamity.

Her undoing only fuels Tomas and the twisted thoughts within his head. "Yeah, yeah that's right. Cum on my cock! You fucking love it. You love when I fuck you!"

It should have been him. It should have always been him. What would Bi-Han think now? What would he think if he saw his wife having sex with his inferior brother? The thought drives Tomas to manic raptor.

"I'm gonna cum in you. Gonna fill you up real nice. Hey..." wicked thoughts become villainous. "How about I cum inside of you and get you knocked up? Yeah, I think I'll fuck a baby into you. That'll show Bi-Han."

Bi-Han, her husband, the love of her life. The man who she promised herself to but now here she is being fucked by another and cumming around his cock. Her thoughts are ripped away as Tomas sharply pulls on her arm, forcing her back to curve and bend.

A craned neck, moans cannot hide themself and go birthed into the warm air. Tomas groans, Tomas grunts, driven now by a sinister purpose. He'll fuck her so full. He'll paint her insides until there will be no choice but to remember him forever. He loves her. He loves her so much.

Strings of white pearls erupt within a warm and welcoming home. So painted, so tarnished. His cock so buried inside her, he's cumming so much. It's never ending, there's too much! Tomas pulls from her cum stained pussy, spurts still releasing and sticking to her now reddening ass. So sticky and sweet he has made her, watching over her body as she falls to the floor, spent and used.

Tomas pants, enjoying the masterpiece he has created. She lays so cold, eyes filled with tears and pussy so filled with seed that didn't belong to her husband. She cannot move, she cannot bring herself to do much of anything.

Behind her there is movement and the youngest Lin Kuei brother is fixing his clothes, getting himself ready to depart.

"That was really great!" so casual, as if nothing had happened. "We'll have to have fun like that again. Fuck you were just as good as I always thought."

Now he would never have to only imagine it. Now he has the experience to relish in and return to. Turning to leave, Tomas pauses before opening the door.

"Oh and you won't tell Bi-Han, right? Hah, what am I saying, of course you won't tell him!"

Why is he right?