#don’t mind the title pls i beg

[evelyn-and-art]

a limitless source

My submission for Week 3 of Tea’s SuoSaku Monsterfucking Month. For the prompts Vampire/Flex, it’s another Xianxia AU but modern and with jiangshi! Suo. While not exactly the traditional western vampire that feeds off of blood, jiāngshī feed off of a person’s qì (or energy) :D👍.

Extras (concept & lore)

First of all, yes, this is a reference to Suo’s costume for the WindBre Event in Kofu Shopping Street Halloween Festival. It was never going to be anything else 😭 but I added spice (read: lore) to the mix with Sakura’s design to make it more interesting. This piece was originally going to be spicier with a different pose, but I didn’t like the anatomy on that one.

concept:

For this AU, a person’s energy can be visible to the eyes of yaoguai and the appearance of the energy is similar to that of kintsugi (big thanks to @psychicwavementality for the idea). The more potent one’s (yang) energy is, the more it will attract stronger creatures. Sakura is one of the rare people who makes a lot of excess yang energy that Suo could probably live off of for years without draining the former too much.

Also while researching for references, I found that the fulu inscripted on Suo’s talisman from the official art is just “Bofurin ~ Halloween”. Incredibly cheeky of whoever drew the design and approved of it and also very fitting of Suo’s character.

—

This is posted alongside Week 2 if you haven’t seen it yet.

[narcissistshandler]

Isagi yoichi & dumbfication!!! I just need to turn this man in a dumb whore for dick (top!male reader)

𝗗𝗨𝗠𝗕 𝗗𝗨𝗠𝗕 𝗗𝗨𝗠𝗕

pairing. male reader x isagi yoichi

warnings. amab!reader, top!reader, bottom!isagi, anal sex, bondage, dumbfication, humiliation, crying, overstimulation, squirt, ahegao, cumming inside, a lot of 'petnames' (doll, baby, whore, slut, stupid, boytoy), (+bonus: Isagi has a small penis)

a/n. dumbfication is just 😩🤌 (and as you guys can see I'm still very creative with titles) and this is unedited

Isagi was easily the most beautiful thing in the world when beneath you, pliable under your hands, completely limp and unable to put up a fight even if he wanted. A life-size inflatable doll for you to play with.

He was usually talkative even in bed, telling you to hurry up while interrupting himself to comment on how strange it felt to be penetrated and how he could never get used to the feeling of having something inside him. All the talk, however, immediately died on his tongue when you slid in, slowly, so that he could feel every inch of you causing a burning sensation as it stretched his only briefly prepared hole.

It felt like a routine, pride making him unable to admit how much he truly loved it and then, the sensual curve of his back leaving the mattress as you reached the bottom, completely engulfed in the heat of the tight walls. The words became stutters and soon, it was as if all of Isagi's rationality had disappeared, only leaving him with erotic moans and whimpers that reminded you a lot of an animal in heat.

“Ughh- aah~” Isagi's mouth hung open, allowing the pink tongue to hang out over his bottom lip. Saliva ran down his chin and he seemed lost in his own world as his lean, flexible body was used by you. He was beautiful like that, no thought in mind other than how unbearable the pressure felt inside him, the pounding in his hole reaching so deep that you just knew he could feel you rearranging his insides.

His hands were stretched over his head, the blue rope the same shade as his teary eyes keeping them tied to the headboard. Before forgetting how to speak, he had begged you to let go and let him touch you and touch himself — 'you know I can't cum without touching my dick,' he had argued.

But now, Isagi's cock drooled against his stomach, semen from his three untouched orgasms drying there countering that.

The memory of his words amused you. “For someone who said that could only cum if he touched his own dick, you look completely ridiculous right now,” you can’t help but mock your boyfriend, reduced to a sensitive, overstimulated mess in mere minutes. “A liar, that's what you are Yoichi. A liar and a whore for dick.” You punctuated your last words with deep, sharp thrusts, delighting in the wet sound Isagi's hole made whenever your cock sank into him and how his entire body convulsed as if he'd been shocked.

Isagi's blue eyes seemed unfocused and when all that responded back to you was a strangled, stuttered, "p-pl-ea- aawn... -se," you couldn't help but laugh, feeling your cock twitch inside Isagi at how pathetic he sounded, just to you.

“It’s okay, don’t talk, you don’t need to talk,” you said, calming his shameful attempts at forming words. Your tone, however, is sadistic and amusing, full of mockery. “You just have to stay there and let yourself be used, that's what you're good at, isn't it? To be my fuck toy, my fleshlight? And I don’t even need to touch that useless little dick of yours to make you cum, just fuck your ass, like the good slut you are.”

Your words found a target and Isagi could only nod, gratefully accepting the permission to not need to think or try to speak. He just needed to be your dumb little slut, nothing more.

Adorable, really.

Isagi was always thinking a lot during matches, his mind was always racing a mile a minute, studying the field, his opponents and forming strategies. But now he didn't need to do anything, nothing at all. Nothing was all you wanted from him, how ironic.

Isagi whimpered, sweet hole clenching around your cock and you immediately recognized the tension coursing through his firm legs and toes curling in the most erotic way in the world. Your hips reacted on their own, darting in and out of the hot, wet tightness. “Your hole is squeezing me so much, do you want to cum for me again, doll? Come on, let go. Show me how good you can be to me, coming just for a few dirty words.”

And like the ridiculous and obedient little thing he is, Isagi obeys. The orgasm comes like a wave, fast, unpredictable and crashing against him with surprising force. There is no slow build or sensations building to the breaking point. One second Isagi is drooling over himself and making shameful attempts to meet your thrusts and the next, tears are streaming down his flushed, sweaty face, a violent tremor making his whole body convulse and his little pink dick jumps, twitches and expels a stream of clear, odorless liquid that seems like it will never end.

The bed quickly becomes wet beneath him and the crying grows louder as the embarrassment seems to set in. Isagi moves from side to side, pulling on the rope that keeps his hands tied as he seems to try to escape the stimulation. It's a vain attempt. He looks so pornographic that all you can do is grab his ass, forcing him to remain lying on his side in the new position while you fuck him mercilessly, fingers grabbing the soft, pale flesh; pulling to allow you to see the little hole greedily swallowing your cock.

“That’s it, boytoy, let go,” you speak through gritted teeth, breathing quickening as you feel your own orgasm quickly approaching at the glipse of isagi’s lewd expression: blue eyes beautifully rolled back, tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Nothing wrong with making a mess like the stupid little thing you are, wetting the whole bed.”

Isagi opened and closed his mouth several times, tears and drool wetting his pretty face as he struggled to speak through the moans: “ah- I-I... you c-cum...”

“What is this, baby? Do you want me to cum in you? Want me to fill your dirty hole?”

His body had already stopped obeying his will and all he could do was moan in response, trying unsuccessfully to communicate.

And what kind of boyfriend would you be if you denied him that?

You sped up, sweat prickling against your bare skin and heat seeming to eat you raw, your heavy breathing covered by the sounds Isagi made. It felt like fire licking his veins; you could feel your pulse racing in your dick, pleasure hitting you as your member pulsed and spilled deep inside Isagi.

“Agh! Ahh!” A broken scream died in Isagi's mouth as heat fill his insides. The possessive complaint made a muscle in his thigh pull, more liquid joining the mess on the bed.

You lean over him, searching for his mouth. The teeth clack together briefly before your tongues meet in a filthy, messy kiss. You swallow the saliva, salty tears and Isagi's moans, nails digging into his skinny ass as you continue to move in and out of him, riding out your orgasm and brutally fucking your cum deep into him, wanting to force him to accept every drop, wanting permanently leave the mark of your belonging on his body. You wished that afterwards, even after take a bath, Isagi could still feel the phantom sensation of your seed inside him, filling him and marking him as your dumb little whore.

How much better would it be if Isagi gave up his football career and lived just for that, to be used 24/7 by you.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

⋆⁺₊❅. “Give you...whatever you need!"⋆⁺₊❅.

synopsis: being the captains assistant ;)

tags: lots of possessiveness, manipulation (?), power dynamics, dom capitano, vulgar, explicit, fingering, facefucking, begging, degradation, penetration, creampie, you get the gist

wrd cnt: 2.5k

a/n: doja cat pls release generous ( lyrics from the song as title) and my life is YOURS… also partly inspired by the azeru audio….

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Droplets of a custom blend of his favorite drink, warm and slightly sweet hit the bottom of a porcelain cup.

It was just something you did, something you knew The Captain liked and as his assistant, routinely did.

This particular evening it was as if everyone in the nation needed you. A task, an errand, or just had to stop you in your tracks to his quarters for some idle chat.

It must have been several minutes longer than when he was expecting you, which was far too long to keep the Captain waiting; occupied against your will.

His tea was cold by now.

Finally, you ran over to his door. The runway-like carpet ending and small tiles lining the entryway to his office, guarded and sealed.

But you were a regular.

The guard knocked on the door, “Sir, your assistant has returned” he announced, waiting for an answer.

It took a few seconds, but you could hear a faint “Let her in”.

You sigh deeply and watch the giant doors open and shut behind you as you walk into the dimly lit room, only candles and small lamps lit across the table and crackling fireplace that remained behind The Captain’s seated body.

“Over and Over. I must have called you a thousand times? More or less.” He spoke, his voice clear even through the steel mask that adorned his face.

“I’m so sorry-“ You quickly respond, placing the cup on the edge of his desk and folding your hands together. “I got caught up with some others- a few harbingers as well needed my assistance.”

He straightened his legs, now standing in front of you, making you back up just slightly due to his large frame.

“It’s as if you’ve forgotten who you serve.” He said, the point of his gauntlet nail scratching the edge of your jaw and trailing down to your chin.

“Who kept you so long?” He asked, quickly adding “Never mind. Don’t tell me, I’d rather not know.”

You have trouble knowing where to look. Not wanting to cause any more trouble for yourself.

“Now that you’re here…maybe we should get started. You’ll probably need to stay overnight.” He mentioned.

You nod, agreeably to not seem like you’re eager to leave.

You sorted out all the intel Capitano had been collecting. There were piles of data, equipment, maps, and so much more. You were the only person he’d let touch them. It was common for you to stay late, as work never seems to dry out. It was also common for you to be whatever he wanted you to be. Errand runner, liaison…or his toy to let out his frustrations.

Everyone sees The Captain for what he puts on. Respectable and professional.

Most of the fatui honestly confess to enjoying working for him, as he has been much kinder than the others.

He can be, but he has his limits.

How can he be so kind to you when you’re late? You dared to keep him waiting.

“This is unlike you.” He says, noticing you yawn as you flip through the pages.

You blink your eyes a second too long, “Oh- I’m sorry I haven’t gotten much sleep, but I can keep working! Please don’t worry”. You assure.

“ I’m not worried, not for myself anyway.” He adds, kicking his feet up on the edge of the desk.

“Come here.” He urges you, forcing you to get off your small little table in the corner to his desk.

He flicks just one finger and you follow, taunting you to his lap.

“Yes- Captain?” You feel your throat get dry as you sit on his thigh, big enough to count as a seat.

“Is there anything…you need from me?” You ask, insinuating a more personal form of assistance.

He hikes his foot up higher on the table, creating a steep slope of his legs that drags you down and forces you into the crook of your lap, hands instinctively hitting his chest for balance.

“This isn’t for me. I think we need to wake you up.”

You felt a small shiver run up your spine when his hands landed on your hips, “How else will you finish all your work?” He adds.

You let out a small sigh as you felt his steel-clad fingers wrapping around your sides as if your ribs were now armored.

He slowly dragged them down your stomach, small points sliding down the sides of your thighs making you arch your back and grind onto his lap, earning a chuckle from him.

With swift motion, he grabs your throat; dropping his mask on the floor and letting it roll off somewhere.

Your body tenses, and you can see the most faint glimpses of his face; still hidden under the darkness of the room.

Deep and rich, he speaks to you, “Take off your clothes.”

Almost as if he’d conditioned your mind, you do so with no complaints.

He even helps, tugging up your shirt with the finger tip of his gauntlets as you pull it off. As your shirt falls to the floor, you stand before him in just your bra and skirt, your heart pounding in your chest. He doesn't waste any time, his hands moving to your back, deftly unhooking your bra with practiced ease. The straps slide down your arms, and your breasts spill free, bouncing lightly as they are finally released. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, exposed and vulnerable.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. "Now the rest."

You slip your skirt down, letting it pool at your feet, and step out of it.

You stand there, naked and vulnerable, your breath hitching as Capitano's fingers trace the curve of your hips. His touch is firm yet deliberate, each movement sending shivers down your spine. Shadows play across his muscular frame, making him appear even more imposing as he pulls you back onto his lap, each leg now dangling off his sides.

"Spread your legs," he commands, his voice low and gravelly. The steel in his tone leaves no room for disobedience.

You hesitate for a brief moment, but the intensity in his dark blue eyes compels you to comply. You part your thighs, positioning yourself in his lap. The heat between your legs is almost unbearable, a stark contrast to the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your folds, another hand squeezing your breasts between his thumb and forefinger. You gasp, arching into his touch, your body betraying how much you crave his attention.

"Please..." you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he hears you.

He leans forward, his mouth closing around your nipple, suckling hard enough to make you cry out.

His teeth graze the tender flesh, sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through you.

You grip his shoulders, your nails digging into the tough material of his armor, as he moves to your other breast, repeating the process. Each pull of his lips, each scrape of his teeth, makes you shudder, your body responding eagerly to his rough ministrations.

"Captain..." you moan, your voice breaking as he continues his assault on your senses and his gentle strokes around your inner thigh, purposefully ignoring your sensitive pearl.

He pulls back, leaving you panting and desperate for more. His eyes glint with satisfaction as he watches you struggle to catch your breath. "Turn around," he orders, his voice firm and commanding.

You obey, swinging your leg over and turning your back to him…well, it’s more of him picking up your entire weight and shifting you into position.

As you automatically reach for the edge of the desk to steady yourself, he lifts himself off his seat, stepping close to your body, his presence looming behind you, his heat radiating against your bare skin. You feel his hands on your ass, squeezing the globes roughly, spreading them apart to expose your most intimate parts. Your breath hitches as you anticipate what's coming next.

"Look at you," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "So ready for me." He adds, flicking his arm down to release his hand from the gauntlet, thudding on the floor just as his last piece of equipment.

“Is this what you were thinking about in that little corner of yours?” He teases.

His fingers trail down, skin grazing the crease where your thighs meet your ass, dipping lower until they brush against your wet folds. You gasp, your knees buckling slightly as he slips one finger inside you, probing deeply. You clench around him, your muscles instinctively tightening, drawing him deeper.

"You're so, so wet," he murmurs, his finger sliding in and out of you, slowly building up speed. "Such a good girl."

Your head falls forward, your forehead resting on the cool surface of the desk as you ride out the sensations he's unleashing on your body. His cold finger flicks against your clit, making you jerk and whimper, your hips swaying involuntarily as you try to get more friction. "Beg for it," he demands, removing his finger and resting it on your hips.

"Please... Captain, please," you beg, your voice shaking with need. "I want more... I need you..."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. "Not yet," he says, "But soon."

You whine in protest, your body aching for release, but he grabs your hips.

"On your knees," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You drop to your knees, your hands trembling as you reach for his belt, unbuckling it quickly. You undo his pants, pushing them down to reveal his hardened length, already glistening with pre-cum.

You lick your lips, your mouth watering at the sight of him.

"Take me in your mouth," he orders, his hands gripping your hair tightly. "Show me how much you want it."

You obey, wrapping your lips around his throbbing cock, sucking gently as you take him deep into your throat. He groans, his hands tightening in your hair as you bob your head up and down, your tongue swirling around him with each pass. You can feel him twitching in your mouth, his hips thrusting gently to meet your movements.

"Fuck... yes," he mutters, his voice strained with effort. "Suck it like you mean it."

You redouble your efforts, taking him deeper, your throat convulsing around him as you gag slightly.

He tastes amazing, salt and iron, the essence of his power and dominance filling your senses. You hollow your cheeks, sucking hard as you stroke the base of his shaft with your hand, listening to the sounds of his grunts and moans above you.

"That's it," he praises, his fingers digging into your scalp. "Just like that... almost there...you’re working so hard"

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breathing heavy and labored. You know he's close, can feel the tension building in him, and you work harder, your jaw aching from the effort.

Suddenly, he lets out a low growl, his fingers yanking your head back as he comes, his hot seed flooding your mouth.

You swallow dutifully, licking him clean as he pulls out of your mouth, his chest heaving with exertion.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust, and smirks. "Up," he commands, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm.

You do as told, standing up and facing him, your legs shaky from being on your knees for so long. He grabs your wrist, yanking you towards the desk, and pushes you onto it, your chest pressing against the cool wood. You gasp, your nipples rubbing against the rough surface, sending jolts of sensation through your body.

He kneels behind you, his hands roaming over your ass, squeezing and caressing the flesh before diving between your legs once more. His fingers find your drenched entrance, slipping inside with ease, pumping in and out with increasing speed.

You moan, your head falling back as his other hand circles your clit, rubbing it furiously.

"That’s it…keep making those sounds," he whispers, "So fucking wet for me. You need more, don’t you?”

You nod, unable to form words, your body consumed by the pleasure he's giving you. His rough hands continue to pleasure you, painting your ass red with just a single slap.

“Answer me.” He says, waiting for your begging voice before pressing his hard length into your ass.

“Yes- please….please Capitano.” You whimper.

You can almost feel the smirk that’s plastered on his face behind you. He lines himself up, his tip teasing your entrance, dipping just enough to coat himself in your slick arousal. You shiver at the contact, your body tensing in anticipation. Then, without warning, he presses forward, his cock sliding partway into your tight channel before pausing.

"Relax," he commands, his voice firm. "Give yourself to me completely."

You try to relax, breathing deeply, but the stretch is overwhelming. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he begins to push deeper, filling you inch by agonizing inch. You bite your lip to stifle a cry, your muscles clenching around him as he forces his way inside.

"That's it," he whispers, his voice strained. "Take it all, my little slut."

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he's buried deep inside you, his balls pressed against your ass. You gasp, overwhelmed by the sensation, by the fullness, by the sheer dominance of his presence within you. It's almost too much, but somehow, it's exactly what you need.

Capitano doesn't wait for you to adjust. With a low growl, he pulls back until only his tip remains, then thrusts forward again, his hips slamming into yours with bruising force. You cry out, your hands clutching at the desk for support as he claims you over and over again. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making your head spin and your vision blur.

"Fuck, you feel good," he grunts, his voice rough with exertion. "So tight, so perfect."

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. He fucks into your at a monstrous pace, your body going limp. He picks you up, holding your neck firm from behind.

“Arch your fucking back.” He growls, roughly handling you into position. You can feel the tension building in him, the same tension that's coiling inside you, tightening with every thrust, every caress. You're close, so close, but he's not done with you yet.

He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back, his lips brushing against your ear. "Look at me," he commands, his voice a low rumble.

You obey, turning your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are wild, filled with lust and possession. He looks at you as if you're his world, his everything, and in this moment, you believe it.

"You're mine," he whispers, “Anytime another person- another damn harbinger calls for you- shit” He groans, “…tell them to fuck off. Captain’s order?” his voice thick with emotion. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, I will-!" you breathe, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

His hand slides down to your clit again, his fingers rubbing in fast, desperate circles. The added stimulation pushes you over the edge, and you scream his name as you come undone, your body convulsing around his cock. He follows right behind you, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave, filling you with his warmth.

You’ve never served Capitano with a cold cup of tea again.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[earthtooz]

x : SLEEPY FAVOUR :*+ﾟ

in which: you've unwillingly become jing yuan's cuddle buddy for his afternoon naps.

warnings: fluff, 700 wc, bad writing lul, established relationship, dialogue-heavy, gn!reader teases a clingy!jing yuan.

a/n: two fics in two days. wow. who am i. enjoy. (i posted an itoshi rin fic yesterday pls feel free to check it out!)

“you cannot keep doing this, jing yuan.”

sitting up to look at the man, your complaint is hushed quickly by the general, who places a hand on your shoulder and pulls you back down into his arms. he wraps himself around you like a vine and you groan at the suffocating sensation. still, jing yuan does not let up, not giving in to your complaints and grumbles as he draws circles on your arm.

“when you messaged me earlier about paying you a visit, i did not anticipate for it to be because you were simply feeling lonely. and clingy,” you sigh and the white-haired laughs.

“then what else?”

“something of value? something that will contribute to the wellness of the luofu?”

“is this not of value?” 

“calling me as your cuddle buddy for your afternoon nap is hardly of value.”

“i object. in fact, i would beg to differ. is the wellbeing of the luofu’s general something to take lightly?”

you huff, turning around in his arms to face him. jing yuan looks at you through half-lidded eyes, fatigue evident in them as he smiles softly. instinctively, your hand reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind of ears and at the graze of your touch, he shuts his eyes, seemingly peaceful and content. 

“flaunting your title, are you?” you ask. “what happened to your humility?”

he’s quick to reply. “gone if it will prevent you from leaving.” 

a smooth talker. your lover, jing yuan, has always had a way with words, laced with carelessness yet drenched in honey, there’s little of him you can resist. even now, you feel your frustration subsiding with one simple comment.

“and why should the general have a few hours of the day just to slack off?” you ask. “your afternoon naps can wait, luofu’s safety shouldn’t.”

“you say that, yet how many centuries of peace have we lived through?”

“why is everything i’m saying only inflating your ego?” then, just to spite him, you pull your hand away and his eyes open at the lack of contact that grounds him to a realm of peace and comfort. immediately missing your warmth, jing yuan finds your wrist and moves it to rest on his face once more. 

you don’t give him the satisfaction, hoping to give him a piece of your mind by once again, retracting your hand out of his hold and his sleepy gaze darkens into something akin to displeasure.

“won’t you indulge in me?” questions the cloud-knight. “i have worked so hard today already, i have been looking forward to taking an afternoon nap.”

“and is that not possible without me?”

he shakes his head with the temperament of a child and a pout to match. what will the court think when they see this side of your feared and revered lover? “ever since you rest with me that day, no, and i will never go back.”

where did his perseverance go?

“you suggest these things as if i am not busy myself. i cannot listen to your every request and demand when i have mountains of work to complete too!”

“i have requested that they be pushed back until later. your schedule has been cleared out for the next few hours.”

“jing yuan!” you exclaim, pushing him away lightly. “you cannot do that!”

“i can, and i have.”

before you can even utter another word, jing yuan has rolled over to lie on top of you, placing half of his weight on you to act as an anchor, effectively preventing you from moving anywhere.

the press of his muscles against you and the tightening of his arms around your torso are like cannonballs against your determination, and considering that he discarded his armour the moment you stepped through the door, it’s only fair if you do the same.

“come on, my love, do you not care for your general?” he asks, borderlining a whine. 

“fine.” you surrender, finally wrapping your arms around him as well. “only because i want him to be at top performance.”

“what about your lover? don’t you wish for any benefits for him too?” 

“he is of lesser importance,” you tease. “in fact, he should suffer for what he puts me through.”

jing yuan chuckles and his laugh reverberates into your heart. “i would hate to be him, then."

"watch yourself, jing yuan."

"of course, anything for you," murmurs the white-haired before he finds purchase in the bend of your neck. surrounded by you, he wordlessly dozes off without a care in the world.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[ikigaisvt]

dirty dancing

in which you get a little too excited about seeing your boyfriend on stage.

pairing: idol!chan x reader words count: 2.4k content: smut, idol au warnings: kinda switch!chan x switch/brat!reader, semi-public sex (they don't get caught but it's implied everyone ends up knowing), talk of jealousy, kissing, begging, swearing, dirty talk (m giving), hair pulling, teasing, edging (m receiving), blowjob, orgasm (m receiving), petnames (for reader: babe, baby, vixen, whore) pls lemme know if i forgot anything :) note: haiii! this is inspired by dirty dancing (new kids on the block ft. dino, dokyeom, vernon) so credits to them/the writers for the lyrics i used (in italic between each paragraphs). this is absolutely not inspired by the title of the song so don't expect someone to dance/do a strip tease for someone else 😭 also had to include idubily chan (go look for pics in case u don't know Him) in this someway, somehow,, minors/ageless blogs dont interact or i'll hard block u. hope everyone enjoy!

Roll that body, feel the energy

Chan has always been made for the stage and that’s something he knew from a young age. His love for dancing, for being cheered on and noticed has always been the biggest driving force of his life. His fans, too, have always been the most supportive towards their music and their stages. Here he is, performing in front of his fans for one of their Japan concerts of the Follow tour. He just went through Highlight’s routine with his Performance Team members before starting to perform I Don’t Understand But I Luv U, one of their newer songs. He puts his all in, trying to concentrate on giving his best – and he does – but his mind keeps going back to you and how you’re waiting for him backstage. Chan loves his fans and he is the most grateful for them; they gave him a chance to make his dreams come true. But despite being loved by so many people, Chan really awaits only your praises to know he did well on whatever he’s working on. Ever since you two started dating 2 years ago, your opinion has been the most important; he would hate to disappoint you, in any way. As his body keeps moving naturally through the moves – despite his mind being elsewhere – he realizes him and his team are nearing the end of the song. He tries harder for the last minute, you on his mind as his biggest strength to do his best; to always do his best.

I know that lingo, I think that she’s into me

Him and his three brothers stand still for a few seconds after doing the last move as the crowd cheers so hard he can hear it through his in-ears. The lights go out and they start to exit the stage as the screams never stop; it feeds into that feeling that settles in Chan’s stomach – a fire, something burning. He feels it overtake his thoughts as he finds himself backstage, in-ears off, searching for your eyes in the crowd of staff. He finds you, sat down on a chair in the corner – you probably chose this spot to watch the performances on the TV without being in the way. However, when he sees you, your eyes are already on him, as you take in his outfit, how his hair fall down on his forehead and the way you can feel the passion overflow from him. What he doesn’t notice is how much you want him; seeing him perform on stage made your belly ache with desire, made you want to please him. He slowly walks up to you but you don’t have the patience to wait a few more seconds; you almost run up to him, immediately taking a hold of his hand, not even answering his pleas, before dragging him through a series of corridors to the small – unoccupied – dressing room.

“Babe, what’s happening?” he says as he stops abruptly, closing the door behind him, “Are you okay?”

“I-” you start, not knowing how to explain you’re horny without him making fun – at least a little bit ­– of you, “Fuck,” you whisper as you take a hold of his face and kiss him fervidly. Your hands roam on his chest, to the opening of his shirt, working another button open as Chan gets lost in the kiss, in your scent, in the way your hands play with his outfit, his hair, lighting his skin on fire.

“Baby,” Chan mumbles in your mouth, trying to break free from your hold on him, “Fuck, baby, we can’t- I have to go up on stage,” he says under his breath after breaking the kiss, your forehead resting against his.

“Please,” you already beg even though he hasn’t even touched you yet, “Just let me suck you off,” you whisper, playing with his shirt’s buttons as his fingers tighten on your hips. That’s when you know he wants it; he thinks it’s a bad, bad idea, he knows he’ll get in trouble – no matter how good you are, he won’t be able to come in time. But when he sees your pleading eyes, lips slightly jutting out, as you grab down at his shirt, his determination breaks down. You can see the change of answer – and behavior – in his eyes as you sink down on your knees, his hand finding rest on top of your head as his cock twitches in his pants.

You’ll get me in a whole lot of trouble

“Was I that hot, up there?” he teases you as he brushes back your hair, your hands working his pants open.

“Hm, yeah,” you sigh in pleasure at the way his hand feels in your hair – and at the sight of his hard-on, “You’re lucky I’m not the jealous type because I can bet there are people in this crowd who wants you as much as I do,” you tease him back as you rub his cock through his briefs.

“You, not jealous? You should have seen your face when I showed some of the DMs I got on Instagram,” he sneers, blood instantly going to your face as you remember vividly some of the texts – and the jealousy you felt.

“So what?” you say, ticked off, as you rub his dick harder in your hand, precum oozing at the tip, leaving a wet spot on his underwear, “Should have told you to flirt back with your lovely fans? To give them what they want?”

“Enough about them,” he breaths out, leaning his head back as pleasure builds up stronger, faster, hotter in his body, “Come on, baby,” he whispers as he looks back at you, taking a hold of your hair and bringing your head closer to his hips, “You wanted to suck me off, didn’t you?”

You roll your eyes at his comment – knowing you’ll get pay back for this later, before getting his briefs down and holding his cock in your hand, jerking him off slowly just to tease him. You see his patience wearing off as seconds tick by, his jaw clenching, his eyes turning darker, his hand tightening in your hair. You can read what he thinks off his face; when he’s had enough, when he decides to come into action and make you take it and just as he’s about to speak, you take his tip in your mouth which he answers to with a guttural moan.

“Fuck, baby- Fucking finally,” he swears which makes a giggle erupt in your throat as you take him deeper, resting your hands on his thighs.

You don’t linger on the way you suck him off; you don’t stop taking him faster, rougher, deeper, always trying to get him closer to his release. You look up at him, his hands tightening against your skull as low moans come out of his mouth constantly, his eyes almost rolling back but he holds it off, trying to look at you through it all.

Feel the bass, feel the boom, feel the rubble

“Babe, can you hear that?” he asks through moans, as you stop sucking him to stroke him instead, “We can hear the music from there,” he whispers getting a hold of your face as you kiss the tip of his thumb.

“Hm,” you answer him as he plays with your lower lip before sinking his thumb in your mouth which makes him shudder. You two stay like this for a few seconds before he quivers, feeling the pleasure build up almost too much. As the first song comes to an end, you both start to hear different sounds but the one who stands out the most is the sound of someone walking down the corridor leading to this dressing room. Chan realizes after you, still in that pleasure-filled haze, his eyes widening and he starts to put distance between the two of you before stopping him.

“Don’t worry,” you reassure him, “I locked the door,” you whisper, your thumb rubbing his tip as you can hear a new song playing in the dome, the walls and the floor vibrating with the notes.

“Fuck, baby-” he moans lowly at the feeling of your hand on him, “you’re a little vixen, aren’t you?” he starts again as the sound making him tense get further away. You giggle, proud of how you got him to be, and stay, with you.

“You’re getting me in trouble, you know?” he sneers, hand feeling heavier on the top of your head as you smile innocently up at him, precum still dripping out of his tip, getting on your fingers.

“I know,” you say with a smirk, “but you’re loving this trouble,” you chuckle as you lick your own fingers coated with his pre-cum.

Caught up in the daze, caught up in the maze

His eyes get darker at the sight, thoughts running wild – your innocent mouth usually saying sweet words but now here you are, licking him off you – as you beam up at him, guessing how hot he thinks you are.

“Get to work, whore,” he tells you, pulling at your hair as you take him back into your mouth, moaning around him at the taste and the heaviness of him, “You’re loving this, aren’t you? Bet I’m getting you dripping right now,” he groans, as you feel him twitch in your mouth, “And I’m not even touching you.” He can feel the pleasure build stronger, his fingers tingling with want for more as he loudly moans, your hand pinching at the sensitive skin on his thighs.

“Fuck- I’m so close,” he mumbles, gripping at you harder as you suck at his head harsher before slowing down, always trying to build his want even higher, and letting go of him to take a breath.

Time is standin’ still, but I’m already late

“Baby- We gotta be quick,” he tells you, pushing back some hair out of your face, “Come here,” he says as he brings your face closer to his hips with a hand on your cheeks. He holds his cock in one hand as you open your mouth to let him push his cock into you, “Fuck- You feel even better than a second ago,” he moans, his bliss building higher and higher – waiting to come crashing down.

Before he can come, he hears sounds outside the door – he can almost hear voices calling out to him but his brain quickly focuses on you – you are everywhere; your hands rubbing at his thighs and abs, your sounds as you take him in – as you drown in his scent, in who he is, your eyes, looking up at him with a universe shining in your pupils, filling with tears as his hips bucks, faster, harder.

“Fuck, I think the song is over,” he mumbles under his breath, “Come on, make me cum, make me cum,” he urges you, voice breaking, as you take him deeper, not needing to keep stroking the rest of him – you choke on him, on his scent, on his heaviness.

Imma need an alibi

He knows, deep down, behind the pleasure you’re giving him, he’s fucked. Completely, utterly fucked. He’ll get out this room and will have probably a minute to make up something, a reason as to why his panting, his eyes and cheeks reddened and his pants wrinkled. He tries so hard to buy himself time, to make something up right now but you’re so much, he’s losing all coherent thoughts. You’re the one who has him in your mouth and yet he can taste you on his mouth – he moans at the memory of your taste, of your moans when he pleases you – oh, how much he wishes he could have you right now.

I’m tryna think of something, I can’t concentrate

“Fuck, my little vixen,” he groans, as you feel him twitch in your mouth, as he chases his orgasm, “I can’t even think of anything but you and your sweet, sweet mouth,” he mumbles, his hips bucking again, “I’m so close,” he says again, gripping your hair harder, “Don’t stop, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groans before cumming down your throat.

If before was getting burned, then this is fucking hell; his eyes rolling back as his head tilts backwards, his hand holding you still as his hips work himself through his bliss, bruising your throat. You feel him everywhere, all the way down to your belly. It’s when he starts to feel sensitive that he slows down, until coming to a stop and pulling out of your mouth. You’re proudly looking up at him, Chan still in the post orgasm haze to realize he needs to run.

He looks down at you before gently patting your head; “How are you feeling?” he asks you, your eyes still shining a little and your cheeks reddened.

“I’m okay,” you whisper, your voice coming out huskier than usual – you know you’ll need a lot of water after this, “I really am,” you reassure him after seeing how worried he got at the sound of your voice. You get up, Chan cleaning himself up and pulling up his pants, before you cross your arms behind his neck as you kiss softly.

“You did really well, by the way,” you smile after your kiss, looking at him oh so sweetly.

“Thank you, baby,” he blushes before kissing you again, one of his hands resting on your cheek, “You did, too,” he whispers against the shell of your ear.

“Thank you,” you giggle, “So, when are you leaving me?” you ask him, knowing he forgot where he was and what he needs to do.

“What-” he starts, confused of your question, before realizing he is late for his show, “Fuck! Fuck, baby, okay,” he says as he lets go of you, walking to the door, “I need to go! I’ll talk to you later, okay? Don’t go anywhere,” he tells you after opening the door – as soon as he gets out, he runs down the corridor, not even waiting for your answer.

“I won’t!” you scream behind him as you watch him get to his stage, “Love you!” you say before he disappears in the corner. A few seconds after, you hear him answer with a screamed “Love you too!” before you get back in the dressing room, smiling to yourself.

Chan, apologetic as ever, but more energized than before, gets back on stage a little later than planned – he gets disapproved looks from his members and he knows he’ll get scold after the concert. But he’ll always like a little trouble with you – and a little dirty dancing.

thank you so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it 🫶 do leave a like/comment/reblog if you liked it and i'll love u forever 🫶

[sseniita]

breaking generational trauma*

*pls give me a better name for this, im going insane

“She’s like me.” 

The villain stared at the child bouncing in the hero’s arms. The hero’s expression wasn’t unlike one she had when she begged for mercy on behalf of a civilian. Simpler, it was similar to when she had begged the villain to take care of her dog while she was away on a mission or when she wanted the last slice of pizza. Overall, the helplessly hopeful demeanor on the hero's face was one villain had become not only familiar with, but also weak against. 

“Hero, where did that come from? Put it back.” urged the villain, gesturing towards the bundle of blankets in her arms. 

“I can’t! I won’t!” The hero held the child closer, protectively, as if the villain was the one being irresponsible here. 

“Like you?” The villain asked, intrigued. “There is no one like you, Hero.” 

The hero readjusted the child on her hip, freeing one arm to grab paperwork rolled up in her back pocket. “That’s what I thought! Look!” She hastily handed over the crumpled up letters to the villain. It didn’t take more than reading the title for everything to click. 

“Experiment 02? You mean-?” 

“She’s from the same tests! We came from the same lab! They were going to do exactly what they did to me- to her-”

“Because of the success you were. I get it.” There was a pause between them for a second. 

The hero was godlike in some ways and machine-like in less important ways. A literal biological weapon, forged since birth. It was an experiment, you could go so far as to call it an accident. Purposeful or not, the hero was the result of a successful lab sourced super-power. It had taken many years for the hero to come to terms with how she became the hero she was, and even longer to investigate and ultimately discover who was behind all of it. Evidently, she had. 

“I can’t let them do it again.” She whispered, holding the child closely to her chest.

It was six months into knowing each other that hero confessed she didn't like being a hero. It was eight months later the villain found out why.

The villain sighed, motioning for her to walk into his apartment. Once they were comfortable on the villain’s couch, he began to ask a million questions. 

Where? A hidden lab. Why? She couldn't leave her there. Her answers we stable and much too clear of mind considering the hero had just stolen a child.

“How old is it?” He finally asked, skimming through the lab documents. 

“It's her. And about 4 months, I think. I just don’t get why they’re starting now. I never found any evidence to show they were doing anything before.” She restlessly bounced the baby. “I just don’t get it.”  

The villain raised a brow at her, she raised one back. “What do you know?” she scooted closer to the villain. 

“Superheroes are either decommissioned or retire around 50. But most lose relevance and popularity by 30. Whether it be they can’t keep their figure, or a newer, shinier thing comes around.” He scoffed. “Never ceases to amaze me” he said half-heartedly, staring down at the documents. The hero’s mouth dropped. 

“I just celebrated my 25th birthday?! You’re saying I’m old and ugly?!” The villain rolled their eyes. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re perfect and probably always will be." He realized what he had just said, he quickly interrupted the hero as she was about to open her mouth. "It’s just how it goes. Once you reach 30, people aren’t as interested. It’s fucked.” The hero quickly caught on. 

“So, she’s my replacement?” 

“Seems like it. Nova, she’ll be called once she turns 15. Thankfully, tests hadn't started on her. They had her on weird ass diet to prepare her, though. You caught her in time.”

The hero was sitting close enough that the villain could peek at the baby’s sleeping face. She was so serene and had no idea what had already been laid out for her, all the pain and suffering, in the name of good. She’ll have no choice. Just like the hero. The villain often stared at the hero in the domestic settings they sometimes found themselves in. He’d imagine her on a lunch break from some normal, boring office job when they got late night coffees during the hero’s night shifts. Or at a dinner party whenever they teamed up and went undercover at some fancy party. God- he would have given anything to save his hero from the fate that was chosen for her.  The little girl had chubby cheeks and looked so dreadfully soft. Just like the hero.

Shit. The villain thought, looking at the baby. I have a chance to save you. 

  The villain sighed and leaned back, done reading the crumpled pages, discarding the documents on the coffee table, defeated, just like that. It only took 10 minutes. Maybe he had gone soft.

“Eloise. Her name is Eloise.” He exasperated.  It was heart wrenching to hear the hero start to coo at the baby. “No living family.” He hammered the last nail on his coffin. 

“Hello, little Lulu. Is that your name? Lulu? You’re so cute! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you” She baby-talked, pecking kisses all over Eloise's forehead, evidently disturbing her sleep. “Oh sorry- sorry!” she whispered to the baby. 

She turned to the villain, eyes twinkling with hope. “I can keep her? Right?” The villain crossed his arms. 

“Hero, I’m not going to tell you what to do.” 

“Haha- that’s your way of saying you unconditionally support me.” She said as she cuddled the baby even closer. 

“Please let that child breathe, hero. You can’t hold her too close.” He reached a hand to push the baby a little further away from the hero’s chest. She beamed. “You’d be a great dad! Already keeping me in line!”

Please don’t start. 

 Despite himself, he looked for the best way to act disinterested and yet not fully close the window on that chance. 

“No hero. I know how much this means to you, but I’m not taking care of a baby. I’m not sure if you’ve forgotten- I’m a villain. This is no environment for a child- even if I wanted one. You have my approval if that’s what you’re looking for, but that’s it.” 

The hero ignored that, making a show of looking around the villain’s extremely cosy and expensive flat. Dark green wallpaper with flowers, a white brick fireplace with old books on the mantel. The place was decorated with the plushiest of carpets, and liveliest of plants. Each curtain hid a beautifully ornate window overlooking one of the safest areas in the inner city. The hero could see the hero offices which she resided in from here. Finally, her stare landed on the large spare bedroom where not only did the hero have a drawer of her things but had also spent countless nights in, recovering and playing patient to a medically trained villain. She raised her eyebrows at the villain. 

“No.” 

“Please.” 

“Hero. You are always the one saying you wanted a family. This might be your only chance- ok, I get it. But she can’t stay here. 

“I live in the dorms of the Hero Offices with 20 other heroes! I don’t and can’t have my own place! I’ll be found out for sure! There are probably a million people looking for her right now!”

“Hero-” 

“Villain please. I can’t let them find her. I need you.” She placed a hand on his thigh, seemingly not noticing the villain’s twitch. 

“Hero. I’m not a good person, you seem to forget. You cannot have that much trust in me-” 

“You are the only person I can trust. Please.” She begged. 

Perhaps the villain wasn’t the only one to blame, perhaps both of them had let this get too far. It started off normally, the fights, the one-liners, and bruises. And out of nowhere, the subtle flirting, the late night talks, the absolutely vulgar displays of emotions they’d never shared with anyone else, hit them like a brick. The hero had changed the villain’s life for the better. He no longer felt unbearably lonely and burdened, haunted by the constant terror and forcefulness of his occupation.

Villain had fallen in love months ago. And he had gotten far in distancing himself and learning to un-love. Now he had to take care of a baby with her that just happened to look like a perfect combination of both of them? His dark hair and tanned skin, her warm brown eyes and button nose. Just perfect. 

“Fine.” He squeezed his eyes shut as the hero leaned against him, setting her head right under his neck, thankfully she didn’t hurl the baby to give him a hug. Maybe I deserve kisses on my forehead for Gods’ sake. He quickly hurled that thought away. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She beamed, kicking her feet. “This means so much, you have no idea!” 

“Hero, this is temporary. If anyone finds out about this-” 

“Ya, ya, I know. Don’t worry. Everything will be ok! I’ll make sure of it!” 

The villain’s only hope was believing her. She was an atom bomb inside a 25 year old woman after all. Maybe he shouldn’t underestimate her. As she moved in towards the guestroom with Eloise, the villain watched intently, she set her down for a nap on the bed, and once she finally came out she looked determined and extremely excited. She plopped down on the couch making sure they were touching side by side so the villain could look at what she was seeing on her phone. Her fingers scrolled down a website titled ‘what to buy when you're expecting’ the villain groaned.

After an hour of the hero paraphrasing a multitude of blogs and villain jotting down notes, they had completed a list of things they needed to raise a child. The hero deflated when she mentioned how they’d have to skimp out on baby toys and clothes, but she quickly recovered after the villain reassured her money wouldn’t be an issue. Apparently villainy had its perks. 

“So what are you going to do about the corporation? Can you really make sure this won’t happen again?” The villain asked the hero from the entrance way. The hero walked over, baby in arms, the villain helped the hero get her coat back on. 

“Uh well. I maybe, sort of, accidentally, may have burned the place down…? Timidly she made eye contact with the villain who only chuckled. 

“I may have also stolen any hard drive I could have found and threw it in the river.” The villain’s laugh only continued as he put a hand on the small of her back and led her out the door. 

As they were walking to get a car seat- the first of many things on their list- the hero had asked the villain to hold Eloise while she used the lady’s room. She had been asleep when the villain got her but quickly after, she woke up. The villain immediately felt a panic and he feared she might start crying, he held her close, bouncing and hushing her to get her back to sleep. Eloise stared up at the villain for a long time before breaking into giggles, reaching her tiny arms up to touch his nose, getting the attention of the shoppers who started cooing at the handsome man rocking the baby with the loudest giggles ever.  

Right then and there, as he felt the tiniest, softest hands grab his nose, the villain knew he was completely and utterly wrapped around, not only the hero’s finger, but of these tiny fingers as well.

pt 2

[fairy-writes]

THE STORY OF US

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing(s): Dazai Osamu x Reader

Word Count: 4k (PLS READ, I’M BEGGING YOU)

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Pretty Heavy AU (idk what to call it tho), Female!Reader, Time Traveler!Reader, Time Traveler!Dazai, Reader is shorter than Dazai

Taglist: @underthetree845 | @nezuko-kamado-cute-demon

Notes: I don’t know what I’m doing

VERY HEAVILY RIVER SONG INSPIRED (find my quotes lol)

I might write part two from the Reader’s POV (don’t get your hopes up tho, I’m notoriously bad with writing part two to things, but if I get requests I’m more likely to do it!)

I just now realized that the title is also a Taylor Swift song, but I don’t wanna change it

Also, I’m just saying this now, this is not every scene I had in mind. A lot of scenes got cut for my sanity. 

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Osamu first discovered he could time jump when he was eleven. 

It had been an accident, really. Well, maybe not a complete accident. Osamu wanted to escape everything—his parents' arguing, their fights. But, of course, he had nowhere to go. As an eleven-year-old boy, there wasn’t anywhere that would hire him. He had no other family that wasn’t across the other side of the world. 

He was completely and utterly alone. 

The shouting was reaching its peak. Osamu shoved his pillow further over his head as if trying to suffocate himself as his mother screamed something at his father. Something about his lies. 

Ha. If only she knew how much Osamu lied. 

Lied about his day at school. (Anything to get her off his back.)

Lied about having friends. (Anything to make them not suspicious.)

Lied about everything. 

The screaming grated on his ears through the pillow, and he ground his teeth until his mouth hurt. 

Couldn’t they just shut up? 

Couldn’t they just go away?

Suddenly, something was different. Osamu felt a tugging in his stomach. It was as if someone wrapped a string around his middle and yanked. Almost like he was being squeezed out of a tube of toothpaste.

And then he could hear… water? The sounds of a river that should not be audible even through the open window. Did they even live near a river?

Osamu peeked out from the pillow over his head and was blinded by sunlight. He sat up and realized his pajamas were covered in scalding hot sand. Golden sand stretched for miles and miles, a long twisting river just visible in the distance. On the horizon, he saw pyramids being erected high into the sky. 

What the hell?

And the rest was quite literally history.

December 31st, 1925

New York City

The air was cold. Snow fell in flakes as Osamu watched the snow fall outside the bar, nursing a whiskey on the rocks as he paid no mind to anyone around him. He had aged since his first trip through time. Though he could never remember how old he was. He looked to be in his early twenties, but everyone looked so different in different time periods, so he could’ve been thirty, and that would’ve made sense. 

“Mind if I sit?” Comes a sweet voice. He looks to his left and sees you. 

You’re dressed to the nines in a silver slip flapper dress with black beads decorating the length of the gown. Your hair was cut in a neat bob, a feather headband decorating the up-do. The kohl around your eyes only accentuates the pretty color. 

Osamu plasters a grin across his features, and you shift. He gestures grandly to the stool beside him, 

“I could do with a gorgeous woman’s company.” He quips, and you laugh good-naturedly before sliding onto the stool beside him. He can feel your warmth through the woolen fabric of his suit coat, and he takes a sip of liquid courage, suddenly feeling somewhat hesitant to talk to you.

There was something about you. Like you knew all Osamu’s secrets already. 

You lean your cheek on the palm of your hand, smiling with ruby-red lips and brilliant teeth that were ahead of their time. 

That should’ve been his first clue. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Where are we at now?” You muse, and he frowns as he sips at his whiskey. This was one of the only bars that still sold alcohol through the prohibition. 

“Sorry, I’ve never seen you before in my life.” He says, and you cock your head, eyebrow raised, as you pick at the seams of your silken gloves. You abruptly stop picking and reach into your clutch purse that rested in your lap, pulling out a worn notebook he didn’t recognize. It was well-loved, with pictures stuffed in between the pages. 

“So we haven’t done France yet?”

“France?” You lean back giddily and hold your notebook to your chest.

“What a night that was! Dancing in front of the Eiffel Tower? That ring a bell?” Osamu shakes his head. 

He had yet to go to France. In all his time jumping, he hadn’t seen the point in going to France,  much less the City of Love. 

Now it was your turn to frown, flipping through your little notebook, and he spies neat handwriting in various languages. English. Japanese. German. Latin. And were those Egyptian hieroglyphs? All throughout the pages, he spies his picture scattered across the ink.

Just who were you?

And why do you have all those pictures and drawings of him?

“What about picnicking at Versailles?” 

Another shake. Another page turned.

“The Titanic? What a messy time that was!”

“What is that?” He eventually asks, and you quickly flip it shut before he can actually read anything. 

“Spoilers.” You say quickly, and when he arches an eyebrow, you sigh, call the bartender over, and order a glass of champagne. The two of you wait in silence until you get your drink. Eventually, you speak after you’ve downed half of your champagne flute. “It’s all of our adventures. Time travel gets complicated, doesn’t it?”

As soon as he connects the dots, Osamu is floored. 

Another time traveler? He thought he was the only one!

It’s clear you pick up on what he is thinking because your face falls. You look heartbroken. As if he just ripped your heart out of your chest and smashed it into a million pieces. As if you were a lonesome star falling from the sky and drowning in the sea.

“You truly don’t have any idea who I am, do you?” Osamu shrugs, 

“Who are you?”

Osamu didn’t know it was possible, but you looked even more upset. Tears welled up in your waterline and smudged your kohl as it dripped down your cheeks. You swallow thickly and sniffle, pulling a handkerchief from your clutch to dab at your watery eyes and ruined makeup.

For whatever reason, Osamu feels his heart ache. 

“I suppose this was bound to happen sometime.” You say eventually, and he looks over at you from where he had just downed the last of his whiskey. You’re leaning both of your arms on the counter, running a finger around the rim of your champagne glass.

“What do you mean?” He asks, and you huff, look at him out of the corner of your eye, and your finger stops

“We always meet out of order. Hence, the diary. But… I just never expected it to hurt this much.” You sniffle again, and Osamu realizes he wants to make it better. He realizes he doesn’t like to see you cry. 

But he doesn’t even know you!

Why should he care if you cried or not?

“If it’s any consolation… I’m sorry…” He says quietly, and you bark out a laugh,

“There’s nothing to be sorry for! I suppose this is just a chance for me to get to know the younger you.” You sniffle, but that bright smile that makes his heart race lights up your face once again. You seem to think something over before standing and offering Osamu a hand.

“Care to walk with me?” You tease him with a flirty wink, and he finds himself unable to say no. 

So, as the clock chimes closer and closer to midnight, the two of you leave the bar, with you each paying for your respective drinks. Osamu offered to buy yours as an added apology, but you just patted his shoulder with a knowing smile and said, “I know you’re awful with money.”

Which… You weren’t wrong. 

Just how much did you know about him?

How much had he told you in the future?

You walk next to him, bundled up in a trench coat not unlike his own and with your hands stuffed in your pockets. Osamu pulls his own (matching) trench coat over his suit coat and slacks and follows you out into the sprinkling snow. You both walk side by side in a surprisingly comfortable silence. At least until you hear people counting down in the streets.

10…

You blink and turn to look at him.

“What day is it again?” You ask, and he looks up at the snow.

“December 31st, 1925.” He replies, and you gape in surprise.

9…

“Y’know, I’ve never celebrated New Year's with time travel and all. Never even had a New Year's kiss.” You muse, watching couples get together on the streets.

8…

“Would you like one?” Osamu blurts, and you nearly trip in surprise. Osamu almost follows suit when you stop abruptly to look at him with wide eyes.

7…

“But you don’t even know me.” You say hesitantly, but you turn to face him nonetheless. He finds himself smiling, a soft, genuine sort of smile.

When was the last time he smiled like this?

6…

“I’m giving my future self the benefit of the doubt and trusting his judgment.” He teases, and you relax, hanging your head with a soft giggle. But you don’t pull away when he slowly pulls you in close to him.

5…

Your coat flaps open, and he sees his father’s initials stitched on the side and realizes you don’t just have matching coats—you have the exact same coat.

When did he give that to you? He swore he’d never give it up to remind himself to never return home!

4…

Your soft arms around his neck catch his attention, and you’re suddenly much closer, standing on your tiptoes in your kitten heels.

3…

His arms pull you close by your hips, and he leans down.

2…

Your noses brush.

1…

The kiss is like the fireworks going off above him. His eyes flutter close, and he pulls you impossibly closer. Your lips are soft with the lipstick, and he doesn’t care that it’s likely stained on his mouth.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

The kiss deepens, and you soak up his affection greedily. Like you had been waiting for this forever. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close oh so tenderly. 

Like a puzzle piece being fit into place, his heart sang like a choir in a church.

Were you what he was missing all this time?

Could he finally have this?

Could he—

BANG! BANG! BANG!!

You jolt and fall to the ground as a car screeches around a corner and out of sight.

What?

What happened?

Osamu looks down and feels his heart stop.

You’re crumpled against the cement, blood seeping out of bullet holes in your abdomen. Your dress is ruined. But that doesn’t matter.

Osamu falls to his knees, not caring about the cold, wet concrete soaking his slacks. He pulls your upper half into his lap and applies pressure. You cry out and push his hands away.

“I need to put pressure on your injury. Hold still for me, love.” He whispers to you and turns to where people are still celebrating. “AMBULANCE! SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!” He cries, but they’re so wrapped up in their excitement that they don’t hear him.

Your hand touches his face, and he looks down to see you giving him a bloody smile. Crimson leaks from your mouth, and he can tell that you don’t have long.

“Hold on—Hold on, I’ll get a doctor—I’ll—” He stammers in an attempt to calm you (himself) down, and you just spit up blood in a choked laugh.

“We both know I’m not going to survive this.” You wheeze, and he can see the color draining from your face as you lose blood and warmth.

“Then I’ll jump back in time! Time can be rewritten!” You cut him off abruptly with more strength than he thought you had.

“Not those times. Not one line. Don’t you dare.” You say, hand falling to grip his hand as tightly as you could muster.

“But you’re dying.” He says, unable to explain why his heart is breaking to pieces inside his chest. You cough once more and smile that brilliant smile that he finds that he loves so much.

“It’s not over for you. You’ll see me again. You’ve got all of that to come.” You slur your words at this point, and he grits his teeth. Your hand goes weak in his, and he holds it even tighter. 

“You and me. All those adventures all over time. You watch us run!” You whisper, and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead just as you close your eyes.

117 AD

Rome, Italy

The crowd roars louder than Osamu has ever heard it. Bored, he watches as gladiators fight in the ring. The arena is bathed in blood, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He hasn’t cared about much since you died. 

He wasn’t even sure why. He barely knew you. But he keeps thinking back to the kiss you shared on New Year’s. He thinks of your words. 

“You watch us run!”

“Is this seat taken?” A voice yells over the crowd, and his heart stutters to a halt. He turns, eyes wide to see you. 

Oh, how cruel this life was.

You’re dressed in a fashionable, long tunic that goes down to your ankles with a shawl of sorts around your shoulders. Your hair is longer than Osamu remembered. It is no longer a bob but instead curled at the front and with a braided crown in the back. You hold that journal under your arm and smile brightly before scurrying over and sitting beside him. 

“Where are we at now?” You ask excitedly, pleased to see him. 

But all he can see is your dead body in his arms. 

Was there some god up above watching this cruel exchange with glee?

What had he done to deserve this? 

“‘samu? Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” 

‘samu? 

The last person to call him that was his mother. Before she and his father began to fight. Back before he could time jump.

Back when things were simple. 

Your hand on his arm has Osamu flinching away, causing you to cringe back as well. You look worried, panicked even, and all for him. 

So you didn’t know yet. You didn’t know you were going to die. 

So, he doesn’t tell you. 

“Sorry, my love, I thought you were a monster here to gobble me up!” He chirps, and your panic melts away quickly. You lean back into his side, and he takes the chance to wrap a bandaged arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. You giggle and open your book. 

“Where are we now?” You repeat, and he shrugs, 

“You tell me.” He says, keeping his eyes off your book out of respect and on the gladiator games below. 

“France?”

“Not yet.”

“The Wild West? That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Nope.” 

You two go back and forth for a moment before you ultimately sigh and clap your book shut. 

“It’s very early for you, isn’t it?” You say, mildly exasperated. Osamu nods silently, heart twisting when you set your book down and lean heavily into his side. He trickles his fingers along your neck, feeling goosebumps rise along the skin, and you shiver. 

The games end, and you shuffle out of the Colosseum and through the streets of Rome. You boldly take ahold of Osamu’s hand as if this was regular for you. He can’t bring himself to let go, so he instead makes you laugh by swinging your arms between you, occasionally twirling you in a circle. His chilton feels suffocating despite it being made of linen. 

But he can’t bring himself to time jump away. To leave you alone to spare his own feelings. 

Perhaps it’s the overwhelming guilt he feels?

Perhaps it’s because he finds himself enjoying your company. 

Either way, he allows you to pull him around the ancient cobblestone streets of Rome. Enjoying the markets and public museums that were beginning to pop up all over the city. 

The entire time, he doesn’t let go of your hand. 

August 8th, 1912

The Wild West

It’s hot. 

Almost overwhelmingly so. 

Osamu peels off one of his gloves and fans his face with it as he climbs the steps to the little cabin he had been staying at. His bandages itch with the heat, and he has a sneaking suspicion that they’re slowly soaking with sweat underneath his borrowed button-down, vest, trousers, and chaps. 

Though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he liked this place sans the heat. The people in this little settled town were kind, barely batting an eye when he suddenly appeared in their home. The people he was currently staying with, an older couple named Buck and Bonnie, welcomed him with open arms. They claimed it was because he reminded them of their son, who was out settling the rest of the West. 

“Osamu? Are you done already?” Bonnie asks where she’s putting a pie on the windowsill to cool. Apple, by the smell of it, and utterly delicious. 

“Just taking a break, Bonnie. Buck works me to the bone!” He says and collapses on the couch, his spurs jingling as he kicks his feet up over the edge of the sofa and leans his head back, tipping his hat down over his face. He hears Bonnie say something, but he’s already halfway to dreamland. 

Despite only intending to sleep for a few minutes, Osamu naps for the better part of an hour. He only wakes up when he hears the whinny of an unfamiliar horse and quick steps up to the cabin door. Then, an excited set of knocks. 

“Can you get that, Osamu? I’m busy with supper!” Bonnie calls from the kitchen, and he calls back, saying that he would. 

Only to come face to face with you. 

It had been ages since he saw you. He had yet to see you at any significant historical events that he time jumped to. The Titanic, the moon landing. Hell, he hadn’t even seen you during World War Two when he was accidentally drafted!

“You!” He jabs a finger, and you grin adoringly, stepping under his arm and skipping to the kitchen. 

“It’s me, Granny!” You chirp, and he hears a delighted squeal. 

“Dearest! It’s been ages!” 

So you’ve been here before. 

Several times by how familiar Bonnie seemed with you. 

Osamu meanders his way into the kitchen, where Bonnie is wiping her hands on her apron. She grins at the sight of him,

“This is Osamu! He’s been helping Buck around the farm for the last few weeks!” She says, and Osamu tips his hat with a wink. 

“We’ve met before.” He says, and you jump up from where you had been sitting at the dining table and throw your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

“‘samu!” You cheer, and he returns any affection greedily, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He’s still unable to get the sight of your corpse out of his mind. But he vowed that if he ever saw you again, he’d accept any love you’d give him. 

You’re dressed the part of a cowgirl. A long calico skirt and long-sleeved button-down. Your hair is longer than he remembered, tied back in a braid, and a bandana around your neck to protect you from the harsh sun above. Your hat sits on the table, and so do your gloves. 

Your skin is just as soft as he remembers. 

It isn’t long before Buck is called in for dinner, and the four of you eat together. You sit to Osamu’s right, with Bonnie to his left and Buck across from him. You chat happily with the couple, and Osamu is content with just sitting and watching. You tell an obviously edited version of your adventures, with grand sweeping gestures and voices to accompany your tales.

Long after Bonnie and Buck go to bed, Osamu finds you on the swinging bench on the front porch. You’re writing in your journal, about halfway full, and sketching a picture of him.

It’s an incredible likeness to his face and rather impressive to look at. You even got his cowboy hat right.

“Mind if I sit?” He asks, and you jump, slamming your journal shut and looking up with wide eyes. But you realize it’s him, relax, your shoulders sagging, and nod with a smile. The wood creaks as he sits at your side. His arm stretches along the back like it belongs there, and you lean into his side. He relished in your warmth.

“Have we done Rome yet?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“I was thinking of going there next, though!” You say, and he nods, leaning his head against yours.

“How come you never go to big events?” He asks next, and you hum with a shrug,

“I like the little days. I like seeing how people live their day-to-day lives.” You say, and he can’t help but laugh. 

You were truly the exact opposite of him. 

You swat his chest, 

“Don’t laugh at me!” You cry with mock anger, but a smile curls the corners of your mouth. Like you liked hearing him laugh. You give him pause when you lean up and press a kiss to his nose. He freezes, blinks several times, and stares down at you. 

“I love your laugh.” You say, and his smile falters just the slightest bit.

No one liked hearing him laugh.

Not since he left home, at least.

But you were his home now. 

October 31st, 2012

Yokohama, Japan

Fog rolls through the streets of Yokohama. Osamu strolls the streets, hands in his pockets. He was alone. At least for the time being. At least until you showed up again. 

If you showed up again. 

No… You would… Osamu had faith. You usually did on the small days. 

Whenever his nightmares got particularly bad, he’d time jump to a place he thought you’d like. This time, it was Yokohama, Japan. Notably, it was Halloween. Nothing ever happened on Halloween. Well… except for that one time… 

Oh, whatever. 

He had been here for a few months, finding himself at peace in modern-day Japan. He discovered his parent’s graves and realized he was home. 

At least… when he wasn’t with you.

Until he saw you crossing the street. 

You looked younger than he had ever seen you before. Another young girl walked beside you, both of you dressed in Halloween costumes and laughing amongst yourselves. 

But the longer he watched you, the longer he realized something. 

You wouldn’t know who he was. No, no, no, it was much too early for that. He had never seen you so young before. Not even in pictures when you had shown him at Versailles. 

Was this before you began to time jump? 

Suddenly, a hand smacked the back of his head, and he flinched, turning to see his newest acquaintance, Kunikida Doppo. He was shouting something. Something about being a bandage-wasting machine. Something about being a lowlife. He didn’t bother listening. 

Instead, he looked back to see you looking at him. There isn’t the faintest glimpse of recognition in your eyes. Nary a clue of who he is. 

You genuinely don’t know who he is at this point in time. 

You lift a hand and wave with a friendly smile, unknowingly making his heart crack in two. 

So, he turns, walks past Kunikida without a word, and heads back the way he came. 

“Dazai!” Kunikida’s voice, and he hears his acquaintance (He doesn’t have friends. He’s utterly alone in this world.) running up behind him. 

“What is it, Kunikida.” His voice sounds oddly monotone, and he knows he has to get you out of his head before he breaks down. He can’t ever come back here, not without causing a paradox and ripping Yokohama apart. 

And that would mean he would never see you, ever. 

“Are you okay?” Kunikida’s voice makes him stop. He spins with a plastic smile on his face and his heart threading to pieces. 

“Of course I’m okay! What makes you think otherwise?” He titters with an all too fake-sounding laugh. Kunikida looks uncharacteristically solemn. 

“Well… For instance, you’re crying.” He says, concern seeping into his tone. 

Osamu reaches up and touches his cheek, finding that it is indeed wet and glistening with tears. 

[liuhko]

ㅤʕ ྀི UR MOM ㅤ ݁ ˖ Carla Jaeger drabble headcanon things (?) requested by mootie @cindol

THIS WORK INCLUDES: female reader, mommy kink, nsfw, dominant character x submissive reader

NOTE: Today (January 29th) is Carla’s birthday!! Giving this post my nice layout cause ily cin (pls stop dissing yoosung). PLS SHE’S SO NGH~! Not proofread *frowny face*

Dealing with Eren was a handful, this was nothing new, but being his teacher came with a lot of perks. Perks such as meeting his mother. Carla Jaeger is the perfect woman. Smart, polite, and so gorgeous. Your first meeting with her was a parent-teacher conference. It was after school, in your classroom, she was the last parent you needed to attend to. You’d never been one to get butterflies, but when you locked eyes with this woman those bugs started soaring! The conference was quick, mostly because you had very little to say about Eren. He was a good kid, just a bit odd, but that’s just how kids are. Carla had praised your teaching abilities repeatedly during the meeting; you struggled to control yourself that day. Meeting her was like rainfall in mid-summer Arizona. However, you had noticed the pretty ring she wore and that soured your mood. “Of course, she’s married.” You grumbled to yourself once she had left. It was a rather sad predicament, her marriage ruined just about every fantasy you had. Until…!

“My parents divorced.” You furrowed your brows at the young boy. Eren had a bad habit of sharing everyone’s business, his included. “Divorced?” You asked him, a comical lightbulb flickering on in your head. A divorced woman needed the most love, surely she needed someone to talk to, someone she could trust. That someone would be you.

Carla was sensitive after her divorce, so it was easy to get close to her.

She grew comfortable with you instantly and was the first one to suggest contact outside of school.

She ranted about her ex-husband often, which pissed you off, but you knew it would pass with time.

Carla shared custody with Eren, and you often followed her when she had to drop him at his dad’s. She knew you disliked him but she had begged you to be cordial — you refused.

Carla and Grisha divorced because he had lost feelings for her and rekindled his love with his previous wife. This led to Carla becoming a bit critical of her appearance, and it drove you mad.

You showered her with affection and affirmations. Praising her face and body, often referring to her as the perfect woman, she always laughed at that title.

Carla often gave Eren an extra lunch to give you at work. Her food was delicious and you resisted the strong urge to eat HER (out) when you’d personally return the lunchbox to her the following day.

SUGGESTIVE/NSFW WARNING!

Your close friendship with Carla benefitted you in various ways. Once, her towel had slipped after getting out the shower. You were in the room and your eyes widened at the sight of her naked body. She apologized profusely but you just grinned. “It’s alright, we’re both women. I don’t mind.” The intentions behind your words were anything but innocent but they led to Carla being a lot more open.

She dressed/undressed in front of you. Asked for your help with changing, and sometimes showered with you to “save time”. You never questioned it. It was incredible.

Carla Jaeger was a bold woman. You had caught her searching a box in her bedroom, and she was completely unbothered. She proudly showed you the contents of the box and watched as you grew embarrassed. She even went as far as to explain how each object was used. “Oh, (name), there’s no need to be so shy. I’m sure you know how lonely I can be at times.” You scoffed at her. “Why would you be lonely when you have me?” A grin spread across her face upon hearing your words. “Then why don’t you help me with these? We’re both women after all. It’s not a big deal.”

If there’s one thing Carla loves, it’s toying with you. She enjoys taunting you and gets a kick out of watching you beg.

She also loves sitting on your face. Partly because you’re good at eating pussy but mostly because she loves seeing your cum-stained face.

Carla’s very accepting of your preferences and doesn’t judge you in the slightest, even when you accidentally call her mommy. “Do you like that, sweetheart? Should I keep going?” She cooed. A soft giggle escaped her lips as you let out a loud gasp, your legs shaking, when she increased the intensity. “Mhm…feels s-so good mommy…!” You responded through labored breaths. It didn’t take long for you to realize your mistake and begin explaining yourself, but Carla quickly shushed you. “I don’t mind, sweetie. If you like calling me mommy, you can…it just means I’m making you feel good.” The puzzled look on your face made her smile. “Are you sure you don’t mind? Cause if it makes you uncomfortable then I understand—“ She rolled her eyes and increased the vibration setting, effectively shutting you up. “I’m perfectly fine with it, you don’t need to worry.”

Carla records. She’s so attached to you and gets so lonely when you aren’t around. She’ll usually watch a few videos and play with herself when she misses you.

She sends you videos and pictures of herself all the time.

Carla gets DOWN with the strap. She never fails to make you cum. Never!!! She’s also interested in the craziest positions whenever she uses a strap. “(name), we should try this! All you have to do is get into a bridge pose, the yoga one!” She will persuade you into having sex in these abnormal positions.

Carla likes to get straps that are bigger than what you usually use just to see you with a stomach bulge. Watching you struggle to take a larger strap gets her much more excited than she should be.

Carla has a slew of pet names for you and they’re adorable. They’re nothing unique but still so cute, she loves using them to guide you through your orgasms.

She doesn’t love scissoring because she isn’t as close to you as she’d like to be (Carla’s very clingy) but she does enjoy the feeling of your wet pussy rubbing against hers, so she can’t complain too much!

Being a mom is stressful, and sometimes Carla just needs a day to de-stress. If you allow her to de-stress by using you, you’ll likely wake up sore and covered in bite and/or scratch marks. She apologizes when she’s done <3

Her aftercare is unmatched. Carla will cook you whatever you want if you’re hungry, pepper you with kisses and take her time cleaning you up.

She fantasizes about sexually torturing you.

Carla loves your tits, size is irrelevant. She plays with your nipples all the time.

[moonlightdreamzz]

DUALITY W/ HONGJOONG (S)

REQUEST ✰ “Can you pls write one where he is super kind/nice and quiet in person but behind closed doors they're nasty asf & dominant😭 preferably w yunho, yuta, hongjoong, or mark)🥲or anybody you'd like! :D”

“You want more?”

The two of you are currently at the final destination of your double date—a buffet, and you’re absolutely stuffed. Hongjoong's eyes are warm and submissive as they search yours for a sincere answer, and yet, before you can utter a word he kisses your forehead tenderly before grabbing your cup and taking it to the nearby machine to refill it. You giggle as he walks away, embarrassed by how well he knows you. His prince charming act is also quite comedic, considering his handprint is still on your ass cheek from your festivities last night. It stings, real bad by the way. It doesn’t take long for him to return back to the table, your infamous drink combination filled to the brim of your cup.

“How does it feel to have the sweetest boyfriend in the world?” Your friend, Jaz, questions, which causes her date for the night, San, to bump her shoulder lightly in fake offense.

“Yeah, Y/N. How does it feel to have the sweetest boyfriend in the world?” Hongjoong repeats, his head titling in a manner that seems so innocent. His smirk even seems boyish as he places his straw in his mouth to hydrate, but under the table, his hand is rubbing the inside of your though seductively, encouraging you to answer wisely if you didn’t want to spend the rest of the night begging him to please you.

“Oh,” Your adorn, looking off into the distance dramatically, “He’s the best. I never have to ask for a thing. It’s like he can read my mind.”

His hand softly pats your leg, signifying that you did an outstanding job. He'd certainly whisper "good girl" in your ear if they weren't here, but that's okay. You're patient, and you know you'll be hearing that all night once the two of you go home—if he chooses to reward you tonight, of course.

The four of you continue wrapping up your dinner with you sharing some of your unhealthily sweet stories about your boyfriend. He of course is loving every second of it, but stays humble through your bragging.

“I just love her so much, you know? I just wanna do any and everything for her.” Is all he can respond verbally. His eyes say a multitude of things, though—some sentences you understand without question, and some you know will get answered soon.

The second the door locks behind Hongjoong in your apartment does he instruct you to go wash up, promising you that he’ll be there soon. You learned a long time ago that you can never trust what he says when he’s hungry for you, which is why you’re not surprised when he never shows up. After ensuring everything he may explore, or not, is clean, you put your silk robe on and head into your bedroom. There’s a multitude of objects spread out on your bed, and your knees become weak as you notice it’s all toys and objects that make your body scream in the best way. A shirtless Hongjoong is also on the bed, and you know he’s testing you.

“I want you.” You quickly spit out before he even gives you an option.

He stands, removing his clothes one by one while chuckling proudly. “I know.” He presses a painfully gentle kiss to the side of your head, staying there for a moment. “But you can’t have everything you want, remember?” He teases, “So I’m going to take a shower, and you’re going to pick a toy. When I come back out, are you gonna be ready?”

“Yes.” You breathe out.

He begins to walk away, and you know you should let him. You won tonight, but would you be you if you behaved?

“But doesn’t the best, sweetest boyfriend in the world, give his girl whatever she wants? Hm?”

The silence in the room is so thick, you don’t know how you’re still standing. The smirk on your face cannot be wiped away as you wait in anticipation for what he’s going to do next.

“You love talking shit, huh? Come back in the shower.” He demands, and you follow suit without hesitation, this time.

[lvrsparadise]

'MARY JANE'S LAST DANCE' - M.S

°•*{PART 1 (this one)}*•°

synopsis - "last dance with mary jane, one more time to kill the pain. i feel summer creepin in and i'm tired of this town again."

warnings! - profanity, angst if you squint, mentions of alcohol and drinking/being drunk, depictions of wanting to sewer slide, use of Y/N (ikik) THERE WILL BE A PART 2 DON'T WORRY!!

a/n - mk so ik that the title is one song and I kinda use another in the fic, BUT it matches better, pls work with me here. this is probably my favorite i've written, plus, such a great song

“What should I call you?” Matt whispered to the girl currently dancing in his arms, staring at the wall behind her.

“Call me Mary Jane.” She replied softly, not risking giving away her real name in fear of him remembering her beyond that night, which she didn’t want.

----

Matt regrets that night sometimes. The memories of it leaving him cold and empty, but he’ll always cherish it. 

He swore he had met the girl of his dreams, but that didn’t last long.

For a long while, he blamed himself for her disappearance. But he knows that’s not the truth.

----

Y/N double checked her outfit in the mirror, smoothing the skirt of her dress one last time before taking another deep breath.

She had planned this night months ago; nothing was going to get in her way. Not tonight, at least she hoped.

She collected her keys, tossing them in her purse as she walked through her house to her front door, looking back at the empty rooms, all of her belongings either sold or on the side of the road, begging to be taken.

She was going to miss this house and the memories in it, but not this life.

The music was loud, and there was enough alcohol in her veins to almost distract her from her looming fate. But it was decided, tonight was the night. And she didn’t have a care in the world.

If anything, she was happy. Oh, the irony.

---

Matt doesn’t know how he ended up at this party in the first place, but he doesn’t mind, not anymore at least.

He was having fun, not that he’d admit it aloud. 

“I’m going to get another drink! Need anything?” Chris leaned into Matt’s ear, talking louder than normal so that his brother could hear him.

Matt shook his head, “No! Thank you though!” Matt holds his red solo cup up, it was still his first of the night, and it has lasted him hours.

Chris nodded as he walked away from Matt, leaving him to himself. He bobbed his head to the music but stayed seated on the couch as people came and went.

After about 30 minutes, Chris still hasn’t returned, but Matt wasn’t worried, this isn’t the first time Chris had disappeared like this. The first time it happened, Matt walked in on something he wished he could forget.

Many girls had sat next to Matt, getting all touchy and close, but each time, the girl walked away with a disappointed face. Matt didn’t care, he wasn’t like his brother, he wasn’t just going to pick up some random girl for the night.

It was after midnight that everyone started to dissipate from the house, and that he had spotted a girl, dancing with herself, enjoying the music.

He admired from afar, admiring the way she could care less about what people watching would care.

---

On the other hand, Y/N was having a blast. It was only fitting that this was the last night she would feel like this.

After her drink ran out, she made her way to the kitchen for another one, grabbing another cup and filling it with whatever bottle she grabbed first, a voice behind her startling her softly.

“That’s a little much isn’t it?” Y/N whipped her head around to look at the guy standing next to her, shrugging.

“I don’t care.” She mumbled, setting the bottle down and taking a rather big sip from her cup.

Matt shook his head softly, watching the girl chug her drink at an alarming speed.

“Wanna dance?” Y/N cocked her brow at the guy standing next to her as she finished her drink, crumpling the cup and tossing it in the sink with the many other crumpled cups in it.

“Why not?” Y/N nodded, grabbing Matt’s hand and dragging him into the living room, now sparse of people, only a small group in the corner, doing whatever. 

After around 11:30, the music had shifted from loud party music to slow paced alternative music, Black Hole Sun currently echoing through the speakers.

Black hole sun, won't you come

And wash away the rain?

Black hole sun, won't you come?

Won't you come? Won't you come?

Matt took the girl into his arms, wrapping them securely around her torso, her own conjoining at the back of her neck.

“So, what’s your name stranger?” Y/N slurred out softly.

Matt chuckled at the girl’s slightly slurred words as they swayed to the rhythm.

“Matt.” He whispered as Y/N placed her head against his chest, feeling the safest she has in years in this stranger's arms. It was an odd feeling, feeling secure.

Y/N hummed along with the lyrics of the song; the slow depressing feel of it scarily familiar.

“What should I call you?” Matt whispered to the girl currently dancing in his arms, staring at the wall behind her.

“Call me Mary Jane.” She replied softly, not risking giving away her real name in fear of him remembering her beyond that night, which she didn’t want.

“Mary Jane?” Matt questioned, not believing the name.

“Yeah.” Y/N mumbled as she pulled herself from Matt’s arms, despite her want to stay in them.

“Wait.” Matt grabbed her wrist as she tried to walk away, not wanting her to leave just yet.

“One last dance before you go?” He squeezed her hand softly as she hesitantly allowed him to pull her back into his arms.

They danced for another few songs, Y/N’s body flushed against Matt’s, the moment so intimate, neither of them wanted it to end. And that’s saying something for Y/N.

“I have to go.” Y/N mumbled, her eyes drooping as they sway lazily. She wanted to go; she didn’t want to get attached. She couldn’t.

----

!Present day!

Y/N ended up not carrying out her plan that night, not after meeting him. After meeting Matt.

He saved her life, quite literally. But she wishes he didn’t.

After that last dance, she ran off, crying in her drunken state, slightly regretting how the night went, but loving it all the same.

Currently, Y/N was packing her clothes into her bag, her stay at this hotel now over. 

Music was humming in the background of the small room, the song changing to one she hadn’t heard since that night.

In my eyes, indisposed

In disguises no one knows

Hides the face, lies the snake

Y/N stopped in her tracks, images of his face plaguing her mind until she huffs and shakes her head, switching the song as to not bring up unwanted memories.

She couldn’t think about that now. That was the old Y/N, she wasn’t her anymore, her life had changed, and she couldn’t dwell in the past forever.

---

Matt, however, never forgot that night, as much as he wanted to. She was just some random, broken girl, he didn’t even know her real name.

Matt sighed as his phone rang, accepting the call, Nick’s voice echoing through the car.

“Chris FINALLY figured out what he wants.”

“Fucking finally. I’m almost to the speaker.” 

Matt was currently in the process of getting food. He figured since he was already out and about, why not stop and get food, but Chris, as per usual, didn’t know what he wanted.

“He WAS going to go with a different meal, but he decided he just wanted his normal.”

“Alright, that’s cool. See ya.” Matt hung up the call, slowly moving up in the drive thru line.

After dropping off Chris and Nick’s food, Matt went back out, driving around aimlessly without a designated destination.

It had started raining mid-drive, and he got hungry again.

Pulling into the nearest gas station, he went in for snacks.

After buying his snacks, as he walked out, Matt accidentally bumped into a woman.

“Shit, sorry.” Matt held his arms out to hopefully catch her from falling.

“It’s fine, thanks.” Y/N shook her head softly, looking up at the guy who had both bumped into her and caught her fall, her eyes widening as she’s met with a face she never thought she’d see again.

“Mary Jane?”

Tags ! ✮

@dwntwn-strnlo ✮ @ssturniolo ✮ @strniolo ✮ @20nugs ✮ @mxqdii ✮ @thetriplets3 ✮ @gwenlore ✮ @opheliaofficial07 ✮ @gabbylovesreading ✮ @luvsturniolo ✮ @itsaaliyah2 ✮ @strniolosworld ✮ @parkerssecrets ✮ @rac00ns-are-c00l4 ✮

If you want to be added to the list, all you have to do is ask ! ✮

I love you all !

And I hope you all have a good day and / or night ✮

[the-prince-of-pigs]

pls do the character ask meme for Made in Abyss! ^^

you are my current fav person thank u

Made in Abyss

blorbo (fav): Belaf - oh my god where to begin. they’re a gender mood before AND after the Iru arc. autism swag unmatched. the only one with half decent morals, would rather starve than eat babies. gorgeous gorgeous crechur. started off as an adventurous bitch who ran away from their privileged life in order to Consume Knowledge, ended up as a depressed bone snake who sulks in a cave all day and refuses to socialize. obsessed with Blob Girl bc they know she can’t die and so doesn’t feel guilt about living off of her because he’s been plagued by guilt for 150 fucking years. current mood: begged for death but forced to stay alive by those around you. 200/10

skrunkly (So Shaped): Majikaja - clackity boi. an absolute delight. love watching their character move about. it’s like keys to a toddler; don’t ask me the color of anything once they’re on screen. we stan disabled characters who remain disabled in a fantasy world (aka fantasy world doesn’t “””cure””” them of their disability). fuck pronouns, Kaja’s gonna make Kaja’s own. polite yet curious, concerned for others, very demure, very mindful. HADIMAE~ 12/10

scrimblo bimblo (underrated): Habolg - yknow, out of all the side characters, Habo gets very little love. he’s not perfect sure, but he’s fun and adventurous, and willing to help kids break the law to follow their dreams. would split the last piece of cake with you in a heartbeat. 8/10

glup shitto (obscure): Wakuna - white whistle mentioned in passing. must be a level 5 friend to unlock their backstory. mystery man, yet title is Sovereign of Guidance. confirmed DILF. minds his own business. 7/10

poor little meow meow (problematic): Bondrewd - this man is fucked up. this man loves children genuinely yet sees no problem with unmaking them in the name of progress. he’s fascinating. he’s awful. he’s passionate. he’s punchable. I desire to take him apart and examine him. [rumble of scientific triumph intensifies] 9/10

horse plinko (torment): Majikaja - LISTEN EVERYONE IN THIS SERIES HAS SUFFERED SO MUCH, THEY DO NOT NEED MY TORTURE. except Kaja. they arrived after the Ganja squad arc and didn’t know of the village’s origins. therefore they are mine to do with what I please. polite, caring, curious, compassionate? screaming to be held down and examined by Bondrewd. (introducing Crack Ship #12, Majidrewd!) 12/10

eeby deeby (going to superhell): Wazukyan - he knows what he did. 4/10

[bigmack2go]

So you finished your outline kr even your entire story? And now yove gotta come up with a title but you don’t wanna be as boring as using the main characters full name? LET ME HELP YOU!

Idk how to make a good intro to this but i’ll just try by starting with: theres a difference between fanfics and books

For fanfics it’s okay to have a shitty title, a song related title or just a whole ass quote(all tho that last ones debatable) theres still a lot of fanfics with great titles though.

This one seems obvious but please at least make your book SEEM interesting

But if you do want or need a good title let me help. I have no idea where to start so jm just gonna give u a couple of things to keep in mind withoutany particular order.

Okay so idk how to start this but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE keep your title at two words or less. If you have three… fine i guess but thats the absolute limit. Also absolutely avoid going over four syllables! That also in most cases means: no quotes, not songs etc unless theyre short enough. This is not optional! There’s nothing that i hate more than a name that takes ages to say when i try to recommend a book or show or movie which is why i simply dont do it. And you don’t want that. You want your storry to be recommended. Like the summer i turned pretty. Great book. Great plot. The title almost made me not read it.

Talking about at one. The summer i turned pretty also made no sense what so ever! Especially with the sequels??? Please make your titles make sense for the story! And if you wanna do sequels i’m BEGGING you to keep that in mind for the title.

Dont spoiler anything but for fucks sake make it make sense

Also pls dont start it with “the” cuz thats bad enough as it is but thats not even my point: if you dont want something boring as the MC’s full name, you also dont want something like the important object or just some random noun i promise. It CAN work if its like a name for a group of people like the outsiders or a gang name or smt but its like that it won’t so just… dont

I’d also avoid using original words that u amde up for the story. This isn’t necessarily smt that makes the title bad but it automatically means that it’s harder to remember so if you wanna be recomended thats probably a No. Unless its super easy to remember foe whatever reason.

So now that ive told you what NOT to do, let me give you some ‘DOs’

So theres several kinds of titles.

My personal favourite are like word plays. Not necessarily puns bc they often create new words which are as we’ve established hard to remember. But just something with a double meaning or something like that… i love that

Something else that always works are inconsistencys. Nothing like titles that contradicts itself! It sparks confusion and most importantly: INTEREST. People wanna know what the fuck is up with that. And it can alsk be rly soothing (for some reason)

References and innuendos are smt else i’ll never say no to if they’re used right. This can also overlap with wordplays. Famous (short) quotes or sayings, places or names are never not it

Smt else that slaps is good ol’ simplicity. Be bold. This👏does👏not👏have👏to👏be👏a👏spoiler! I promise you that just because you make it obvious what’s the book about that won’t spoiler shit.

Talking about: i love a good On-The-Nose title especially because most people expect nothing less than the exact opposite of it. Dont get me started on how banger of a title “They Both Die At The End” would be if it were just a little shorter!

And lastly even tho fullnames are an absolute turn-off last names can be sooo good. Especially when they’re about the whole family and especially when they’re in singular

Ofc these rules don’t always apply. Here are some examples of when they didnt

Fifty shades of gray (not defending the book itself, im just saying: the title is awesome)

Ansalom

The guy who didnt like musicals

Pride and prejudice

The kangaroo chronicles

Dracula

Alice in wonderland

That nineties show

Lollita

Bonny and clyde

Out of africa

Come from away

The never ending story

But trust me they usually do apply and just because a book is doing well it doesn’t mean the title had any part in it! Here are some books that should not have done so well and wouldn’t if it were for the title

Harry Potter

Percy Jackson

Mathilda

Birth Control is Sinful in the Christian Marriages and also Robbing God of Priesthood Children!! (Like holy shit dude wtf u literally have not one but TWO exclamation marks in there and take up TWO lines)

The little shop of horrors

Here are some really good titles

Red clocks

Hamlet

Star Wars

Maze Runner

Qualityland

Hamilton

Let’s win

Newsies

Half bad

Blackbird

Avatar

Chrimson rivers

Fight or flight

Young royals

Bridgerton

Titanic

Here are some titles that could have been soooo good if they just… (and what i would change them too

How to get away with murder its so long (sort of wordplay?, interesting)

The fifth season- season five its too long sry (interesting)

Maze Runner-*not having sequels* it just doesn’t make sense for the sequels (simple and interesting)

Just lovers (like we’re suposed to be)- just lovers (contradiction, interesting)

History is all you left me-simply history (?) (contratdiction) too long

More happy than not (interesting) too lonh

They both die at the end (on the nose) too long

Half bad: the bastard son of the devil himself- half bad (interesting) too fucking long dudeee

Also some that DID folow the rules but are still… not so good for some reason? (This is only about the titles not the works!!!!!)

Best friends brother

Choices

Girl in pieces

Boy meets world

No one saw

That nineties show

Lalaland

Im also maybe gonna do some of these on covers and genrally viduals

[ugh-yoongi]

jewel, as the no.1 taennie supporter here lmao. in your dream world, who are some idols/celebrities you want to see bts to date

no.1 taennie supporter is a title i wear with honor 😭

this is really hard to answer bc there are cool celebrities that exist that i know nothing about!! and even tho i love(d) taennie i wouldn’t have picked that pairing so stick with me here:

namjoon — no specific celeb in mind, but a vibe: i’d love to see him in a relationship like keanu reeves & alexandra grant. she is so cool both as a person and an artist and he is her biggest fan. they’re so smitten with one another and it is just so lovely to see. someone creative on their own that can teach him and indulge his interests. intellectual in their own way. supportive.

seokjin — another vibe: you remember how we all found out andy samberg was married to thee joanna newsom and were like what??? but it makes complete sense. they seem so different on paper (andy is… well, andy 🤷🏻‍♀️ and joanna is like this cool harp-playing folk musician) but that’s why it works. someone who matches his energy is also great (please give me jin & dahyun for real i beg) but in my dream world he gets his own harp player.

yoongi — he’s already in a committed relationship with yijeong in my delulu mind sorry no one else is allowed in. you don’t post cat memes like that abt one another unless you’re IN LOVE.

hobi — i thought the rumors of him & irene kim were cute 😭 but this one is hard bc there’s no specific person or vibe i can think of for him. an animal lover, someone who also has a kind of freak aura (like 28 reasons seulgi vibe???), into fashion. someone better than me at celebrities pls tell me if this person exists.

jimin — and if i said jeongyeon??? [dodges tomatoes] jimin is another hard one for me. i feel like he’d be open to just about anything which makes it difficult.

taehyung — i’m still fragile ok 🥲 absolutely power couple vibes tho whoever he winds up with.

jungkook - han so hee!!! HAN SO HEE!!!!!!!

[we-are-inevitable]

heyo title time!!

“always tracking what happens when I lose my mind” have fun bestieeee 💥

ok i want to preface that this is not fleshed out! i don’t know how things happen! i don’t know why things happen! i don’t know and i want to keep it that way @jack-kellys

TW DEATH, VIOLENCE

but ok here we go. a fucked up dystopian thing but jack is a pawn in the game.

i’m picturing,, futuristic, the world has ended and people are starting over and trying to find normalcy but the wrong people force themselves into power. there’s a call for order and a new way of life.

theres the Bad Elites bc the world kind of ended and the wrong people were able to gain power during this big rebuilding thing and the newsies are basically a rebel group, jack as the leader, jack gets trapped and pulitzer is evil and bad things happen and then jack is basically a puppet to be controlled ! i think it’s fun

some more things:

jack is the leader. charlie is the medic. race is the getaway driver for missions. al is the weapons guy. al and race are dating; jack, race, and charlie are brothers; al looks up to jack.

the other newsies are There, i just dont care about them

davey is. whooooooo ok davey is a big thing to me. give me a minute

anyway jack is captured! hes kept for a few days. drugged, tortured, what have you. he’s implanted with a chip that fucks with his brain- when it’s activated, he hears nothing but a sharp ringing, its an out of body experience, and he can See what’s happening but he can’t actually control himself or stop it.

the first time it happens is a few days after he escapes (which is too easy- he realizes after that pulitzer *lets* him escape).

hes sitting at dinner. he’s hurting and he’s hearing ringing and albert comes to jack’s side to help him.

he slashes albert’s throat on impulse, and albert dies at his feet.

cue everything going to shit. race trying to kill jack, charlie has to step in, jack begs for someone to kill him, race tries again, eventually they lock jack in a room with windows in the compound and jack refuses to let *anyone* in.

side note bc @roideny said this and i freaked out: race sitting and watching jack lose his mind bc he knows that jack didnt kill albert- everyone knows jack is being controlled, they just dont know how or why- and race just ,, silently crying every time the chip is activated bc jack is screaming, and writhing in pain, and its what makes him remember that *jack* didn’t kill albert.

anyway moving on!

obviously davey is in this.

davey is one of pulitzers guys but hes being controlled by the same chip thing, but its Constant and Controlled instead of sporadic like jack’s. the gang capturing davey during an ambush or smth and charlie immediately knocking him the fuck out to do any sort of Finding And Removing The Chip just to prove to jack that it’s safe and he can do it

so davey is just a guy

like. an upper level guy i feel like, hes pretty important to pulitzers cause as a soldier type thing, but hes not important enough for people to go looking once he comes up missing. davey is just a frontman in an army serving people who dontgive a shit if hes dead or alive.

but tbh i think this is also ,, rlly good mind control territory bc davey hasn’t been Davey in so long. davey hasn’t even been David. davey has been Soldier, or #0347, or whatever the fuck people are calling him, but he has no name, no personality- he’s a terrified fifteen year old trapped in his own body for six years until hes suddenly a *monster* at 21 who has killed more people than he can ever count

they get the chip out of davey, so they know they can get the chip out of jack, and its just. yeah. its yeah and its so good

davey trying to live life as Himself for the first time in six years, jack trying to overtake pulitzer, things happen and plot happens yadda yadda they win and its good

pls send asks about this i love it a lot

[shealmostdrowned]

i LOVE all the midnights q’s and i was abt to list like 5 of them so if nobody else jumps in pls take this as ur go ahead to answer them all !! 💜🪻🔮☔️

babes you exhaust me (affectionate) omgg!! challenge accepted though because i love you, my little grey sunglasses friend 💕💕

midnights ask game questions and answers under the cut:

1. Lavender Haze — Do you let other people’s opinions of you influence you? not really. i take them into account but will ultimately make my own choices

2. Maroon — Is there someone that holds the title of ›the one that got away‹ for you? almost. and i'm begging the universe that this answer never changes to "yes"

3. Anti-hero — What’s an insecurity of yours that you have overcome? i can't think of one i've successfully overcome but i'm working on accepting my weirdness and excitability. i used to bounce around and enjoy things but then i got self conscious about being "too much"

4. Snow On The Beach — Are you crushing on anyone right now? yes 😌😌

5. You’re On Your Own Kid — If you were given the chance to go back in time and change your past would you? Why or why not. no because i don't know what i could do differently. every mistake or shitty moment is something i've learned from

6. Midnight Rain — What dream are you chasing right now? peace and comfort. as cheesy as that is hahah!!

7. Question…? — Ask a question of your choice. 💕😎 ANON COME BACK AND ASK YOUR CHOICE 😎💕

8. Vigilante Shit — Forgiveness or Revenge? forgiveness (but the revenge fantasies are many and tempting)

9. Bejeweled — Do you like being the center of attention? nope!!

10. Labyrinth — What’s something that’s been on your mind for a long time that you just don’t seem to be able to escape? the fear that everyone i love doesn't actually care about me and will leave me...

11. Karma — Do you believe in Karma? yes! always have, always will

12. Sweet Nothing — What sweet nothings do you indulge in to enjoy yourself? iced coffee or peach tea in the sunshine. nothing hits like that

13. Mastermind – Do you have a story, memory, video etc. of yourself that you would show someone if you wanted to show them the real you?

14. The Great War — What’s in your ‘memory garden’? i don't really understand what this means i'm sorry

15. Bigger Than The Whole Sky — Is there someone you’ve lost in one way or another that you keep imagining being with you at certain moments in your life? my childhood best friend. i always picture him around and going through all these different moments with me

16. Paris — When was the last time you played pretend? i actually have no idea

17. High Infidelity — Would you forgive someone’s infidelity? it would depend on the circumstances but most likely, yes. things happen and it sucks but, again... it depends

18. Glitch — What’s your opinion on long-distance relationships? they're hard but you do you, babe. they're not all that different to irl relationships these days with how connected you can be

19. Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve — Are you haunted by something? yes. and that's the only answer you'll get.

20. Dear Reader — If your life was a book what would its title be? some song reference i'm sure hahah

[stateofcharles]

am I still not good enough? - CL16

pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

word count: ~ 1,9k

warnings: body insecurities, self-loathing, past toxic relationship(s), hurt/comfort

summary: Your first public appearance as Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend only produces loads of nasty comments from the press, causing demons from your past to resurface. Your boyfriend then reminds you why he loves you.

a/n: title from Little Mix’s “Good Enough”, sorry for the sensitive topic but this song has been stuck in my mind lately and I had to write something about it. remember you are all beautiful, never let someone bring you down cause your body is perfect the way it is, you’re valid and you deserve to be loved for who you are <3

09:00

You woke up in the unfamiliar hotel room, Charles snoring next to you. Sunshine was entering through the curtains and hitting you on the face. You stretched your arms, carefully not to hit your boyfriend, and then picked the phone from the nightstand. You immediately noticed some messages from your cousin, but what impressed you the most were the countless notifications from all social media you had. 

After thinking for a while, you decided not to worry too much about them: the previous night you had participated with Charles to a movie premiere he had been invited to, making your first appearance as a couple in doing so. You had imagined the press would go insane: Charles Leclerc had been probably the most talked-about bachelor in the previous 3 years, and the fact that he was now committed was certainly some front-page news.

You also expected a lot of new followers along with many, many messages and comments from his fans, either congratulating you or insulting you for stealing their man. You knew that, you had discussed this situation multiple times with your therapist and you thought you were ready. You couldn’t imagine what you were about to discover. 

Having chosen to ignore social media, you opened your cousin’s texts and you immediately frowned at the sight of her cryptical words.

Y/N pls i beg you DON’T OPEN ANY SOCIAL TODAY

do it for yourself 

love you and call me asap <3

Curiosity was eating you alive. Your cousin for sure had the best intentions, but could she really expect you not to do anything? Especially after having told you such things? You were a mere human being in the end.

You decided to start from Twitter. Your homepage seemed normal, nothing unusual. You checked what was trending then. Charles’ name was #1, and right below was “Charles Leclerc girlfriend”. You clicked, still unaware of what was waiting for you.

The first tweet you saw was from TheSun but many similar ones from other gossip websites followed, clearly riding the wave. The words hit you at 200 mph: those weren’t just insults from some obsessed fans, that was much more, it was everything you had tried not to think about.

Charles Leclerc shows off his new girlfriend at movie premiere and never reduces the grip on her hips as they pose for photos on the red carpet: was he trying to reduce those gross love handles on her hips?

Your eyes immediately filled with tears: your biggest nightmare had come back.

When you had met the stylist who dressed you for the event, you had been left a bit startled by her choice: a baby blue three-piece suit, which exposed part of your abdomen. A shining silver pair of stilettos to complete the outfit.

It was truly mesmerising, but as soon as you tried it on you were filled with doubts since the trousers, being quite tight-fitting, emphasised a lot your waist area.

Your body had always been like that: healthy and fit, but with some fullness on your hips and thighs that you had never been able to burn and that had only increased with all the stress you had to bear in that last period. You would go to the gym every week, follow a precise workout and diet, but yet no major improvements had happened.

Everything had changed when you and Charles had started dating: ever since the first day he had never commented on your figure - unlike other ex-boyfriends, who apparently never failed to remember you how fat you were - and when you had finally opened up about your insecurities, he comforted you saying that you were perfect like that, you didn’t have to listen to what some bored and stupid people had to say about it and you swore him you would try. 

Though in that moment it was almost impossible for you to be faithful to that promise. You were really trying not to dwell on some shitty article written by pathetic people, but the doubts you had almost completely buried were surfacing, again. 

You didn’t want to cry but it seemed your mind didn’t agree with you.

You started having flashbacks of all the slurs your exes had thrown at you and of all the times they had humiliated you, even in front of your own friends and family. You covered your ears with your palms but the voices in your head were louder and louder.

Look at you, oh my god aren’t you ashamed?

Such a horrible body, thank god we have the light down when we are in bed.

What’s this fat? What are you, a pig?

I bet I could bring you to the butchery, they’d know what to do with you.

You should be grateful I haven’t broken up with you yet.

I can’t believe your beautiful face belongs to this shitty body.

You already go to the gym? Well, PUT. MORE. EFFORT. 

You didn’t realise you were crying and screaming non-stop until you saw Charles awake beside you, his face showing pure concern. Though you couldn’t stop, those insults were playing in your head over and over again. At some point you were exhausted and you screamed at the top of your lungs, “SHUT UP!” 

Charles immediately lifted up, just in time to catch you as you threw yourself in his arms, your sobs only louder, more and more uncontrolled. 

He held you closer trying to calm you down, but every effort he made seemed useless, so he just decided to wait. He couldn’t figure out what was going on: he had been woken up by your crying, but when he opened his eyes he realised the situation in front of him was much worse than he had thought. 

Then he saw your phone, Twitter still opened on it and he caught a glimpse of what you were reading. That was when realisation hit him. 

It was the first time he witnessed you crying because of this, but it wasn’t the first time he had to deal with you during a panic situation.

He carefully moved you on his lap, placed your head on his bare chest so that you could hear his heartbeat and then he lay down again but hugging you tight and bringing you down with him. 

It took a while, but your sobs eventually died down. You sniffled and then looked at Charles for the first time that morning. When you saw his worried face you felt almost guilty, but the boy quickly started leaving short kisses all over your face and you couldn’t help but giggle at the tickling sensation.

He then looked proud of himself, for being the person who had managed to make you laugh after such an unpleasant crying spell.

You could read in his eyes that he wanted to ask you what had just happened, but at the same time you could see that he didn’t want to be rude or - even worse - make you cry again. 

You sat up, he followed you immediately. You sighed heavily and started speaking, your voice shaky, “I’m sorry for what you’ve just witnessed but-” you threw a glare at the suit, on a coat hanger visible through the opened closet door, “I really loved yesterday, and my suit, and you were fantastic, but-” you tried to calm yourself down, not wanting to have another crisis and Charles noticed it, so he started rubbing small circles over the top of your hand.

“They made me hate myself, my horrible body and my stupid suit and I know I don’t have to give them the attention they’re seeking but it’s stronger than me.” You let some silent tears fall from your eyes.

Charles promptly wiped them away, “Do you want to tell me what they said, ange?”, his voice a bare whisper.

Reluctantly, you nodded, knowing that you somehow had to say those words out loud in order to move on. “They pointed out that… you know that yesterday you always kept your hands around my waist and hips on the red carpet? Well they said you were trying to-” you lowered your voice, ashamed of what you were going to say, “reduce my gross love handles.”

You had done it. You had said it, there was no going back. 

Charles’ expression was startled. You could sense he was going to get angry and you feared you couldn’t control him. 

Instead he took a deep breath and then left a long kiss on your scalp.

“You know they’re just a bunch of idiots, right? You know I love your body and I adore your love handles, there’s nothing gross or wrong with them, they’re part of you and of your unique beauty and I would never change them or ask you to do so.”

You knew it, though your insecurities didn’t leave you. “But there are so many beautiful girls out there with perfect bodies and then there’s… me. I have nothing special, I don’t even know why you still put up with me and you haven’t cheated on me yet with one of them. I’m not worthy, of you, of your love and affection.”

“Stop hurting yourself Y/N, you are worthy, you are enough. I know it’s difficult for you, but you have to believe me. There’s no one I’d want to be with more than you. I asked you to be my girlfriend and not some model, and that’s because I love you. Do you remember when we met for the first time? Your brother’s birthday party?”

You nodded, other tears menacing to come out at hearing your boyfriend’s words.

“Well,” he continued, “I loved you from the very first moment. I loved everything about you, from the way you scrunch your nose when you laugh, to the sparkle in your eyes when you see a puppy. From your beautiful hair when you collect them in that messy bun, to how you stretch in the morning when you’re still half-asleep. And I venerate your love handles,” he lowered his face to whisper in your ear, “I love holding them when we’re making love and I love leaving my fingerprints on them.”

You set those tears free, unable to control yourself. Charles hugged you again and you whispered to him ‘Je t’aime’ over and over again, while he answered every time ‘Je t’aime encore plus’.

After what felt like an eternity you untangled the hug and took a look at the alarm clock on your nightstand. 11:20.

“When do we have to leave?” You asked him. Deep down you were afraid to leave the small bubble you had just built in that hotel room, but you knew you had a flight to attend.

“Our flight is scheduled for 3pm, but it’s my private jet, I can ask them to delay it if you need to.” His loving gaze was straight in your eyes, but you realised you couldn’t ask him to do it.

“It’s fine Char, I just need some minutes to pull myself together, then we can go to have lunch in that restaurant you told me and lastly we head to the airport.”

“Are you certain? If I tell my pilots we had a mishap they’ll understand, especially if I pay them extra.” Sweet boy, he was always so caring.

“No babe, I’m fine and I have to come back to reality.” Your tone was determined this time.

“Are you sure you can face it? I understand if you need more time.” His face was still concerned, but you were ready.

“Just hold my hand Charles, and then I’ll be able to rule the world.”