#he’s sad and pathetic ! ! i’m not afraid to say it !

[jesuistrestriste]

pleasure dom!reader x power bottom!art uffffffffffphhhh

i fear this dynamic is genuinely all i write :,( it never gets old.

art just seems like he’d absolutely adore taking the strap! moaning like a whore and arching his back :/ ugh.

he’d let you bend and stretch his body into any position you want him in, and he’d take it all like a champ—every single thing you do to him.

he’s sucking your strap, bending over your lap and letting you finger him, sprawling out on the bed with his hands behind his back, and begging for you to fuck him

saying things like “oh god, yes, yes, fuck, you’re fucking me s-so good, feels so good, can you— can i move my hips too?” when you’re 5+ inches of silicone inside him. eyes glazed over and lidded bc waves of heat are flooding his gut. his biceps flexing, while his quads shake and squeeze on either side of your hips. sigh.

[julietsbody]

romeo meets juliet — luke castellan x reader : chess can be played in many different situations. 

tags : 18+!! loser!luke (hes actually such a loser im sorry), college setting, brothers best friend!luke, mutual pining, religious imagery(?), classic literature references, body worship, smut, luke is pathetically in love 

a/n : save me nerdy boy with sad eyes save me

luke didn’t acknowledge your existence at first, he stuck to himself, from his classes, to his dorm, maybe even the lunchroom if his roomate, your brother, convinced him to come rather than just making all of his meals in the dorm. luke and your brother were complete opposites, luke was studying literature, mostly classic,  he didn’t speak to many people unless forced to— and your brother was studying engineering, which also basically required him to join a frat, and he spoke to nearly everyone with cockiness prominent in his tone. 

one thing they did have in common, though, was chess. 

now, your brother could never tell anyone, especially not his frat brothers, that he played chess, let alone was in the university’s chess club— but he felt pity for luke, most of the time luke played by himself, which was somehow equally as frustrating as having to play against someone else. 

the only people that knew about your brother playing chess was luke, the chess club, and you. 

luke remembers the first time you came trotting in to the dorm, complaining to your brother about some argument you had with your parents about how your friends are distracting you from your studies. your brother only rolls his eyes, barely listening to your non - stop whining about how it’s ridiculous, “i mean— you’re the one in a frat! why aren’t they mad at you?” 

“because i actually do my work,” he mumbles, and luke breathes out in a silent laugh, moving a piece on his chess board. 

“you’re in engineering, you don’t even have any actual work,” you frown, and albeit the fact that you’re wrong, you’re still confident in what you said. 

“are you stu— whatever,” your brother waves you off, deciding to change the subject when he motions to luke, the boy in a nirvana t-shirt, currently moving to a different side of the chess board as he plays against himself, “this is luke, my roommate, obviously.” 

luke immediately freezes, fingers curling around the chess piece he was adjusting to move— his eyes are wide, and they’re moving to look at you, only to immediately flicker to some other part of the room when they meet your expectant gaze. since he won’t speak first, you pick up the slack, “hey, luke.” 

your brother notices how luke looks like a scared, lost puppy even by the slightest implication of having to speak to a woman, let alone be perceived by one, so he moves to whisper in your ear, “he’s like, deathly afraid of women, i’ve never seen him speak to one, ever.” 

and you from that you don’t expect a response from luke, until he mumbles a short, “hi.” 

that’s when your head tilts, noticing the way his curls fall over his brows messily, like he doesn’t pay attention to styling it, or maybe it’s on purpose, maybe he pays too much attention to styling it. the way he wore something so simple, yet so telling about himself, the way he awkwardly places the chess piece back on the board on the spot he wanted to. he assumes the conversation is over, so he moves to the opposite side of the board to make a move against his own. 

“are you in the chess club?” you take a step closer, and he perks up, hand ghosting over the piece once more. 

luke doesn’t say anything, his lips twitch around words that don’t come out. your brother speaks in his place, “he’s the president, he’s a fucking grandmaster.”

luke just awkwardly laughs, moving his hand to scratch at the back of his neck, eyes moving from the board to you, then to your brother, “i’m not like— actually the president,” another awkward, short chuckle, “i just— like.. um.. play a lot, i guess.” 

“you are the president, dude,” your brother corrects, being insufferable as he always is. 

but luke puts up with it, then you ask another question, “what do you major in?” 

“literature,” luke responds for himself this time, finally able to move his hand to make a proper move on the chess board, before mumbling, “mostly classic.” 

“you’re kidding, i am too, how have i not seen you before?” 

luke’s eyes finally meet yours, now, pausing on your eyes, then resuming down the shape of your face, memorizing each feature, the curve of your lashes, the shape of your lips— he swallows thickly. 

“i just— sit in the back.. and go to my dorm— as soon as class ends,” there’s that awkward, short chuckle again. 

“have you finished the paper?” 

luke nods, and that’s when your brother finally gets a bright idea. 

“you should help her, luke, with the work.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

that’s how it all started, with a simple suggestion, that’s when you came to the dorm more often, when he began to notice that you were actually in his classes, and when you realized he had an awful staring problem. he thought he was slick with it too, letting his eyes move around the room for a mere.. twenty seconds before they finally snap to you, and from there, they stay, until you finally return the gaze and he’s immediately nervously looking away. 

he hardly speaks to you, unless your brother urges him to, and he’s always avoiding looking at you when he speaks, stumbling over words, pausing in sentences to catch his losing breath. he was a complete and utter loser, terrible when it came to socializing, even worse when it’s with girls. with you, it somehow seemed to worsen. 

“am i the first girl you’ve ever talked to?” you ask once, far too blunt for your own liking, you didn’t mean to really say it, it kind of just came out when seeing how much his leg bounced under the table with nervousness, nearly sweating himself to death under your gaze. 

sweat beads down his temple when his eyes flutter up to meet yours, moving from the romeo and juliet book in his hands. isn’t it so ironic that he had just gotten done reading the scene in which romeo says, “did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! for i ne'er saw true beauty till this night,” when seeing juliet for the first time? truly, it isn’t the first time he saw you, but it’s night, and you are beautiful. truly, utterly, “beautiful.” 

“what?” 

oh, oh my god. saliva bubbles in his mouth, sour saliva, and he gulps it down, hoping it would somehow be a form of poison that would wake him from this nightmare. does he say what he meant? that he was thinking out loud? that he thinks you’re beautiful? or should he deny it? deny. he bursts into awkward laughs, “what— what do you mean— i.. i didn’t even say anything.. ha, haha.” 

“why are you acting like that?” your brows furrow. 

“like what?” 

“like you’re hiding something.” 

his breathing only shakes anymore, “i’m not hiding anything.. that’s like— a wild accusation.” 

“it’s not an accusation, i’m just saying,” you frown at him. 

his adam’s apple bobs with another swallow, “okay but like—“ 

“why are you harassing him?” your brother sighs, tired how much you press luke. 

“i’m not— whatever, i was asking you— am i the first girl you’ve ever spoken to?” 

your brother barks out a laugh, and luke’s eyes fall back down to the book in his hands. did not having proper conversations with women make him any less? romeo grabbed juliet’s hand once, and the first words he uttered to her was a promise to redeem himself if his hand was too unworthy to be touching her holy one. parallels sear in his mind, and he just mumbles a, “not really.” 

he has spoken to women before, sure, small greetings, maybe even the slightest indulgence of conversation— but luke keeps to himself, and to be honest, he was a man used to running from women, as he did from his mother. he grew up being afraid of women, well, afraid isn’t the proper word, intimidated is better, and he just decided to avoid them as much as possible. 

though, no matter how much he tries to avoid you, you’re always there, in his sight, in his mind. maybe it’s a disgrace, like romeo holding juliet’s hand, for him to even be thinking of you, looking at you— you were a goddess that offered a man on his knees the slightest bit of your grace, and now he was hooked. 

it was pathetic, really, how he anticipated every time he suspected you would be over, how his eyes always found their way to you in class, how he made sure to purposefully walk past you in the lunchroom on the days he went, which was oddly more now. 

a man who is still a virgin to adore a girl far too good for him, he is hopeless. 

“it’s okay if i am,” you adjust, okay, there might be a little hope, “anyway, how do you like romeo and juliet?” 

“it’s pretty nice—“ he notices the way your face perks up in shock, “kind of, i don’t know.” 

“i think it’s a bore, i’m sure the movie is much better.” 

“we should watch the movie— um.. together, sometime.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

if luke was being completely honest with himself, he didn’t entirely mean to say it, and as soon as you left the dorm, he nearly doubled over with shock at his own words, and even more shock at the fact that you agreed. not only did you agree, you actually came, and it was just you and him. your brother was off at some frat party, again, and he had left luke completely alone with you, even when luke begged him not to. 

“you’re kidding, dude, i’m like— horrified of her,” luke frowns at your brother. 

“you need exposure therapy, or some shit, call me your therapist.” 

“you’re a shit therapist,” luke sighs, rubbing his temples. 

“and you need to grow some balls.” 

so, your brother left him, and now luke’s awkwardly standing with you at his door - step, staring at him expectantly, his lips twitch around so many possible words, possible sentences, and all that comes out is, “hey.” 

he’s been staring for you for at least a minute, and all he can say is hey. your lips curve to an amused smile, “hi, luke.” 

“um— you can come in, if you.. want, ‘course.” he moves out the way to let you in, watching you step past him so he can close the door. 

“i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to,” you remark as if it’s the obvious, mostly because it is. 

when romeo stood underneath juliet’s balcony, he praised how captivating she was, considers her as glorious as an angel, a winged messenger above his head. in his own words : 

“one who makes mortals fall onto their backs to gaze up in awe as the angel strides across the clouds and sails through the air.”

consider luke on his back now, staring up at the stars in your eyes, the halo that shines above your head, the wings that flap with every stride you make— a goddess, an angel, venus incarnate, right before his eyes, staring at him like he had something deeply wrong with him. wait. he blinks a few times, and his eyes refocus onto your confused face. 

“are you okay, luke?” 

he quickly clears his throat, “yeah, yeah— duh, ‘course i am, uh.. we should,” he moves to the table in which his laptop was on, “watch the movie, yeah? ‘ts on my.. laptop, if you don’t mind.” 

“i don’t, at all,” you move to sit next to him on the couch in front of the table, watching the veins in his hands pulse, palms sweaty when he moves to open his laptop, shifting a few tabs and pressing a few keys until he mumbles a small okay and presses the space button. 

moaning. that’s all you hear, the sound of skin slapping, ah ah— oh fuck mmph you’re so b— luke slams the laptop shut. 

dear god, save him now. 

he can’t even bring himself to look at you, the sweat on his palms only worsens and spreads onto the top of the laptop as he smoothes his hands across it, replaying the scene a million times in his mind. to his surprise, you giggle, “you watch porn?” 

he’s quick to awkwardly scoff out a short laugh, “yeah— i mean, everyone does.. but like.. i don’t watch it— that much.” 

your finger moves to run along the vein on his arm, feeling him shudder under your touch, yet he doesn’t want you to stop, even the slightest touch makes his dick twitch in his pants, “are you a virgin, luke?” 

he inhales sharply, “y-yeah..” 

“do you want to have sex?” you lean the tiniest bit closer. 

he pauses, “yes.. of course—“ 

“with me?” 

“yes.” he responds quick, too fucking quick, it must’ve been at most a second after you said it for him to respond. the truth stings his tongue, to finally be able to say it out loud, how much he had fantasized about you in the late of night, even sneaking off to the bathrooms so his hand can dip underneath his waistband when he thinks about the times you’ve worn a tight shirt that frames your tits far too well. 

but it was wrong, wasn’t it? you were a goddess, on a pedestal, and he was merely just a man, staring up at your statue in the hopes that you would notice him one day. forbidden, possibly, but all those thoughts leave his mind when his eyes move from the finger tracing up his bicep to your neck, then your lips, then your eyes. 

“please tell me you’ve kissed before.” 

“yeah.. yeah— i have,” a playground kiss counts, right?

it seems to when your lips fall against his own, the kiss was so gentle, until he dared to kiss you back, then it got hungry, mostly on his end. he kissed you like a starving man, nearly devouring you but at the same time, being horrified to. your tongue finds it’s way into his mouth, and to your surprise, he whimpers against your lips.

his hands are hesitant, unsure of where to go, does he touch your arm? your shoulder? your waist? he doesn’t want to push anything, so the waist seems far too much, his hands awkwardly place themselves on your arm, in a very weird position. 

“have you touched a girl before?” 

his lips are flushed from the kiss, eyes glazing over the position of his hands, and he quickly moves them off, “sorry— well, i just.. um.. didn’t want to push anything.” 

“you can,” you reassure, but his hands still hesitate, the flesh of a goddess, to be touched by someone so inexperienced. was he really worth it? any of it? to even be in your presence was a blessing, and it was still taking him forever to register the fact that you had actually kissed him, prayers passed through your lips into his. 

“are you sure?” 

“‘course i am.” 

it still took luke some getting used to, having you straddle his lap, you knew so much, it felt like more than just an honor to have you so close to him. his eyes flicked from your own to your lips, then to your tits, the low v - cut showing off your cleavage perfectly. and he looked like a complete deer in headlights, staring at the flesh pushed together between the window of clothing. you smile at his lack of self control, feeling the way his dick throbs underneath his pants, right against your ass, “you can touch them.” 

“wha— nono, ‘ts okay— i just..” he trails off, sweaty palms moving past you to slide across his knees. 

“really, luke, you can— why don’t i just..” you move to take off your shirt, his eyes immediately catching on to the lace of your bra, the way your tits are practically spilling out of it, all until you take off your bra as well and they immediately fall out. 

his hand twitches around nothing, desperately wondering what it must feel like to have your flesh underneath his palm, fingers curling around the plush of it. it seems you must’ve heard his prayers when you move to take his hands, pulling them back to press against your tits. 

soft, that’s his first thought, sweat sticks to your skin when his fingers curve around the flesh, gripping it ever so gently. praises spill from his lips almost immediately, thoughts he had since the day he saw you, finally being spoken, “y’re beautiful— fuck, i’ve always.. always wanted to— do this..” 

you smile so sweet at him, nectar nearly drips off your teeth, “can i ride you, luke?” 

his eyes finally meet yours, brows furrowing for a mere second, “huh— oh, oh.. yeah, ‘course you can.” 

you didn’t expect him to have a big, no matter how cruel that sounds, you had heard rumors of nerds with big dicks, but sought to never believe it until you saw it, and good fucking lord you saw it. as soon as his dick springs out from the pants and boxers you were tugging down, luke’s hands mindlessly moved to your waist, your eyes widen. 

no fucking way. he has to be.. six? seven inches, at least. slightly girthy too, he wasn’t all just length, and precum was beading from his red tip. he immediately inhales sharply when your fingers graze his dick, nervous under your gaze, “is it too small— i.. i’m sorry—“ 

“too small?” you scoff playfully at his scared expression, worried of what you think, “this might be the biggest dick i’ve ever seen, luke.” 

“that’s— a good thing.. right?” 

“obviously, god, it better fit,” this is the first time you’ve ever been concerned about whether or not a dick will fit, luke stiffens when you spit on your palm, pressing it to his dick and wettening it as you jerk him off, his response is immediate, carefully gripping at your skin and pressing his lips together to muffle his whimpers. 

luke had jerked of many, many times, but it never felt as good as this. 

“fuck—“ he grunts out, already far too close from just a simple hand movements. 

you immediately stop, picking up on his nearing orgasm from the way his hips kept bucking up into your hands, pathetic whines slipping past his lips, but it was just so cute. the cutest thing, though, was his face when he got the first look at your vagina, he looked like a man staring at a piece of art he had admired. and this was art, sex was, you were, everything about you, it felt so sacred. 

his lashes flutter when you take his hand, guiding it to your sopping cunt, allowing him to feel the wetness that was nearly pouring from you. like nectar from a fountain, it coated his fingertips when he touched you, his eyes focused onto your face, making sure that he was doing it right. he notices the way you gasp when his fingertips brush against your clit, so he presses against it again, and again. 

he follows everything he has seen in pornos, spreading your folds, fingers grazing past your entrance, rubbing your clit— but he’s lost when you wave him off before he can finger you to prep you for his dick, wasn’t that something people did? “but don’t you…” 

“it’ll fit,” you mumble back, relying on how wet you are to make it easier. 

he watches the way your jaw falls when you move to press his tip against your entrance, allowing the tip to push into you and it’s already too big. his eyes widen at the feeling of your walls clenching around his tip, unable to hold back the noises that slip from his own lips. 

“you’re like— the.. the girl of my dr— fuck— dreams,” luke hushed out between his mess of moans and grunts, he wondered if romeo ever felt this way when he kissed juliet for the first time, the sort of electric rush that riddled his bones, it felt unreal. you were a dream incarnate, one luke was always haunted with, the woman that would show up when his eyes would close at night, and now you were on his lap, sinking down on his dick. 

“am i? really?” you question, inhaling sharply when you finally reach the base of his cock. for some odd reason, you didn’t believe you were all he was putting you up to be, and that made him sick— how could you think of yourself as any less? you were perfect, a vision, to be fair, luke would adore you even if you were an enemy, just like romeo and juliet. 

he would stand at your balcony, stare at you from across the ballroom, kiss your knuckles, kiss you— he would do it all. he might even drink poison just to spend eternity with you. 

“yes, yes— are you.. kidding? mmph.. fuck— you’re like.. a fuckin’ goddess,” it comes out like a prayer, as if he was on his knees at your altar, kissing your legs, and whispering worshipping words. 

to nobody’s surprise, luke doesn’t last long at all when you’re bouncing on his cock, no matter how much he tried to distract himself from his throbbing cock by pawing at your tits, or moving to kiss you, his orgasm was just too close. “‘m g’na.. please.. g’na cum.. mmphh.. fuck!” 

when he does cum, you had pulled off him, jerking him off, and he’s practically writhing, a whimpering and damn near crying mess. and once he’s helped you to your orgasm as well, you’re falling into his arms, finding a safe - haven in how he smells like old books, mint, and cheap cologne. 

two star crossed lovers, one capulet, one montague. 

“these violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder. which, as they kiss, consume.” — romeo and juliet, act two, scene six.

[plumso]

get him back! (lorenzo x reader)

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader // reader's pov!! trope: academic rivals summary: y/n regularly complains about how lorenzo always teases and places ahead of them. but when someone else insults lorenzo, y/n can't stop the boiling rage inside. masterlist I do not consent to the reposting of my work! reblogging, however, is fine <3

Friday night and there’s no sound in the library except the faint scribbles of a frustrated individual.

Y/N has been studying since the start of the Slytherin and Gryffindor quidditch match. They have continued to study despite their friends’ efforts to drag them to the after parties. Everyone is at the common rooms socializing and laughing. Even Hermione is nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile, with their notes gradually becoming messier, Y/N is all alone. Or so they thought.

“Copying it down word-for-word won’t help with memorizing, you know,” a low voice says behind you.

You jump in shock and turn around to confront the sudden voice. You see that it’s Lorenzo Bershkire, the smug Slytherin boy you swore to defeat since first year. Since then, you made every attempt to beat him either in potions, charms, transfiguration - even in muggle studies! But to no avail. He has remained in his position as first with you as second best.

You watch as Lorenzo’s dark brown eyes examines your notes. His large body is hovering over your shoulder to peek at your work. With his broad chest so close, you can faintly smell his cologne - sage and bergamot. It smells clean and expensive.

“Mind your own business, Berkshire. And don’t look at my notes!” You exclaimed as you covered your books with your hands. You know he’s right, but after hours of rereading the same material, you felt desperate. But you didn’t expect your rival of 6 years to see your pathetic notes.

Lorenzo chuckles as he takes the seat next to you. He props an arm on the table and rests his head in his hand. His legs are crossed and his stare is unwavering. ‘Of course, he’s effortlessly good at posing,’ you think to yourself. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“You’ll never be first if your handwriting is still like that,” he says as he points at my notes. “It looks like a 10-year-old wrote it.”

You feel your face flush and your cheeks burn. “Oh yeah? Well, at least I don’t pretend to get people to like me. Unlike you, I’m not fake.”

You expect Lorenzo to be caught off guard or hurt, but he remains calm with a smirk still on his face. You can’t stand it. 

“It’s called manipulating, darling. It’s how you get ahead in life,” he says as he twirls my hair with his long, slender fingers. “You should try it sometimes. Maybe you’ll get first place over me one day.”

“So you admit that you manipulate people? Wait until I tell the others - they won’t be so accepting of you then,” you say with a triumphant grin. 

“Do it. They won’t believe you,” he says with a smirk.

Your grin drops and you become silent. You know he’s right. You’ve voiced your opinions about him before, but no one believes you. He can get away with anything.

You sigh in defeat. “You know, I can’t stand you, Berkshire. You get on my nerves,” you say as you shake your head.

Now it’s his turn to be silent, but it feels weird. You’re afraid to look at him, afraid that you took it too far. You immediately want to apologize, but you don’t want to appear weak in front of him. So, you picked up your quill and continued writing.

After a few silent minutes, you hear his chair squeak. Afraid that he was, in fact, hurt by your comment, you turn around to stop him. However, you instantly lock eyes with his, his face only inches away from yours. 

“I only leaned in to help you, but if you wanted to kiss me so badly, you could have just said so,” Lorenzo says with a chuckle. Though you know he was teasing you, your heart felt light knowing he wasn’t sad.

“No thanks! Not in a million years.” You exclaimed as you distance yourself from him.

“So after a million years, you’ll kiss me then? I can wait for that long.”

You give him a look of disbelief before you start packing your things. This causes him to laugh.

“I was just joking! Don’t leave,” he says as he tries to stop you from packing.

You push away his hands. “Well, it’s obvious that I won’t get any studying done with you here, so I’m gonna head to bed.”

“It’s 8:30,” he remarks with disbelief. 

“I’m an early sleeper!” You exclaim as you close your bag and hang it over your shoulder. “Good night, and, uh, I hope you get nightmares.”

You start walking away, but Lorenzo takes hold of one of your hands. He doesn’t say anything and you don’t look back. 

Surprisingly, you don’t draw back your hand. Instead, you linger in his touch. You notice the rough calluses of his finger and how gently he’s holding your hand. You’re surprised; you assumed it would be smooth and cold, but his touch makes you feel warm.

You linger for a few more seconds before you walk away, releasing your hand from his. You want to look back and see the face he’s making, but your pride urges you not to. Sticking to your pride, you exit the library and head to your dorm.

***

The next day during lunch, you couldn’t help but think back on last night with Lorenzo. Why did he hold your hand? Why was he even in the library late at night? Why wasn’t he partying with his friends? And how did he know you would be there? 

You stop yourself. ‘Why would I even think that he was looking for me? I’m nothing more than an entertaining rival to him,’ you think as your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

You glance behind you to spot Lorenzo sitting with his usual group. They seem to be deeply conversing in something before they all bust out in laughter. What were they saying that could make him laugh like that?

Feeling annoyed, you turn back around and grunt. His air of superiority, his fancy clothes, and his wispy hair - it annoyed you that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You couldn’t stand how he made fun of your efforts and always placed ahead of you in everything. But what you couldn’t stand the most was how you couldn’t hate him. 

You turn to Hermione who has pumpkin juice in one hand and the Daily Prophet in the other. “Hermione, do you think I’m shallow?”

Hermione raises an eyebrow and sets down her drink. “What a random question to ask. No, I don’t think you’re shallow,” she says with a small laugh.

“What if someone was mean, but they were also really handsome? I mean, you can be annoyed or even dislike them, but could you really hate them?” 

“Hmmm. That is interesting. Are we talking about anyone in particular?” Hermione says with a secret grin that she shares with Ron and Harry.

“Uhh, no. No one in particular. Just curious!” You quip as you fiddle with your cup of orange juice, attempting to seem unconcerned.

“How about you give an example? It’ll help us answer,” Ron chimes.

“Well, I only asked Hermione, but okay.” You look around the Great Hall, trying to find someone who’s mean and handsome, but the only answer you can come up with is Lorenzo. ‘Maybe they won’t think too much of it,’ you think to yourself.

“Ummm, Berkshire, for example. He’s… conventionally okay-looking, but he’s rude and mean,” you say as you avoid looking at their eyes.

“You mean he’s mean to you. He’s always been nice to me,” Ron replies as he munches on a cookie.

“Because he’s two-faced! He makes fun of me at every opportunity,” you say with frustration. “Okay, Ron, maybe you’re too slow to see it, but surely you two believe me, right?” You give a hopeful look to Hermione and Harry.

“Uhhh, sorry, Y/N. Though he hangs out with Draco, he’s actually really nice,” Harry says with a sheepish smile.

“Maybe he teases you because you two are rivals?” Hermione says with a small shrug.

“More like you compete with him while he does nothing,” Ron says with a chuckle but stops when Harry nudges his side. “But, uh, yeah, the ‘rivals’ thing could be a… contributing factor.”

“cOntrIbuTing fActOr” you mockingly say back to Ron, which makes him laugh. “Now answer my question! Could you hate a super handsome person?”

Hermione shifts her body to you and gives you a serious look. “Y/N, I don’t think it’s about looks. I think you li-”

“What are we talking about?” Cormac McLaggen interrupts with a smug smile. He then sits himself between you Hermione. “Did you mention ‘Berkshire?’”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat and try to inch away from him. You never liked McLaggen. He’s weird and too arrogant for no reason, but you didn’t want to seem rude. “Uh, yeah. You know him?” You ask reluctantly, not really interested in his reply.

“Yeah, he’s a real suck-up,” McLaggen says as he slowly puts his arm around your shoulder. You hear a large bang behind you, but you ignore it as you try to fight all attempts to push him away. But you’re curious about his answer. He doesn’t seem fooled by Berkshire like everyone else.

“Why do you think that?” Harry replies with a disbelieving look.

“Think about it. He smiles too much and is ‘nice’ to everyone, but he’s a Slytherin,” McLaggen says with his arm still around you. You hear loud stomps behind you, but you pay no attention to it.

“Well, not all Slytherins are the same-” you attempt to say but you’re quickly interrupted by McLaggen.

“They’re Slytherins! They’re all the same. Evil and manipulative. The only reason that Berkshire places in everything is because he’s rich. He probably cheats or sleeps with the professors,” McLaggen laughs at his comment. “Or he probably threatens everyone because his parents are Death Eaters,” McLaggen says with a smug smirk.

The table is quiet and shocked by McLaggen’s bold comments. You stare at McLaggen’s stupid grin and feel something boiling inside you. Meanwhile, the footsteps you heard earlier were now right behind you, but your eyes were focused on McLaggen.

A dark, cold voice behind you speaks up. “McLaggen, get your hands off of Y-”

Slap!

The usual buzz of the Great Hall dissipates. Everyone turns away from their conversations to see you and your hands inches away from McLaggen’s face.

“Y/N? What the fu-”

“Shut up, McLaggen! Just shut! Up! Don’t talk about Enzo! Don’t even say his name! I can’t believe that, out of everyone, you are the one to judge. Do you think you’re better than him? McLaggen, you are slimy, creepy, and disgusting,” you exclaim as you shove him away from you. “Stop talking and stop touching me and LEAVE!”

Your face is burning and your hands are balled into a fist. You can feel everyone staring at you in disbelief - they’ve never seen you so angry before. But you don’t care. You want to do so much more than slap him. You wanted to curse him, to wipe McLaggen’s stupid grin on his face, to make him cry.

McLaggen looks around and sees everyone staring. His face flushes as he tries to compose himself. He then stands up and hovers over you, attempting to seem intimidating and tough. “Y/N, don’t you dare ta-”

Before he can speak further, someone takes his collar and pulls him to the ground, all in one swift motion. You look up to see it was Lorenzo. You’re shocked by his sudden appearance. ‘When did he get here?’ you think to yourself. You then worry if he heard McLaggen’s comment earlier.

Lorenzo looks down at McLaggen with a cold smile. “You heard Y/N. So, get out. Now.”

McLaggens huffs his nose and gets on his feet. He readies himself to fight back, but Harry and Ron stand up from their seats. Then Draco and his friends also stand up from their seats. Seeing this, McLaggen clicks his tongue and turns around in defeat.

The Great Hall remains silent as they watch McLaggen walk towards the door, but as soon as he leaves, they immediately start buzzing about what they just saw.

You turn back to Lorenzo and see he is already looking at you. You analyze his expression, looking for any signs of hurt or anger. Instead, he looked pleased.

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” He gives you a warm smile, a smile that he does not show often. Your three friends give a knowing smile at each other, which Lorenzo notices. “Alone,” he adds as he extends his hand to you.

You sheepishly look at your friends before you get up from your seat and take his hands.

***

Not once letting go of your hands, Lorenzo leads you to the nearest empty classroom. As soon as you two enter, he closes the door and turns around to face you.

“Why did you defend me?” He says as he carefully watches your expressions. 

“I-I’m not sure,” you say as you try to avoid his eyes. Along with everyone else in the Great Hall, you were shocked by your own rage. You don’t understand why you got so mad.

“Don’t give me that, Y/N,” he says softly. It surprises you; his voice is usually cold. Too curious about what expression he’s making, you finally look at him.

“Think harder, Y/N,” He gently squeezes your hand which you realize he’s still holding. “Why did you defend me?” His eyes are pleading for something as if he knows something that you don’t.

You think harder about how you felt when McLaggen was talking about Berkshire. Of course, his comments were incredibly disrespectful and disgusting, but was it enough to warrant a slap? Why were you so angry? Were you angry in general or for Lorenzo?

‘Do I like Lorenzo?’ you think to yourself. Yes, he teases you occasionally, but he hasn’t done anything wrong or evil. In fact, he’s hardworking and reliable. Even though he says he manipulates people, he always helps those in need. ‘So maybe I do like him… as a person.’

You look back at Lorenzo, ready to answer properly, but his eyes entrap you. The faint light from the classroom windows hit them just right. His dark brown eyes shined golden. It looked like a warm pool of honey. You always recognized that Lorenzo was handsome, but this was the first time you appreciated it.

‘Oh. I think I like-like him.’ This epiphany shocks you and causes your breath to hitch. Suddenly, you’re conscious of how close you are to Lorenzo and how his hands are so big and warm.

You like Lorenzo. Probably for quite some time now. But could you admit that to him? After all the competition and petty arguments? After all your complaints about him? Would you two even work out?

But then you look back at Lorenzo and realize that, for the first time, he’s being vulnerable to you. His eyebrows are scrunched as his eyes are still pleading for your answer. Suddenly, the pride that you’ve kept for so long was now forgotten.

“I… like you.” You exhaled and felt a sudden weight lifted from your chest. All that’s left is an inexplicable tingling feeling in your stomach.

Soon, his warm body envelops you. He wraps his arms around your waist and nestles his head in your shoulder. 

“Finally,” he says with a delighted chuckle. “I’ve known all along.”

“W-what? How could you have known? I only realized it just now!” You exclaim as you playfully struggle in his grip, but he refuses to let you go.

“Y/N, you’ve always been slow.” You give him a gentle pinch on his side, which makes him laugh. “I’m kidding! I’m sorry. I just…” He trails off as he draws back a little to look straight into your eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Of course, he’s always been one step ahead of you. Even when it’s about your own feelings, he knew about it before you did. You suddenly felt shy from his intense gaze, but you didn’t want to look away.

“...Did you hear what McLaggen said about you?”

“Yes.”

“Were you mad?”

“For a moment… but I was more annoyed that he was touching you.” He gently brushes your hair back from your face. “Do you believe what McLaggen said?”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed as you gently hit his chest. “He’s disgusting and weird. Anything that comes out of his mouth is complete bull crap. Why would you even ask that?” You grumble and slightly pout.

Lorenzo laughs. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry.” His hands drift to the ends of your hair and starts twirling it with his fingers.

“...So, how about you?”

“Hm?” He replies absentmindedly, still focused on your hair. 

“Do you… like me?” You sheepishly ask as you look away and focus on the ground.

Lorenzo gives you a blank stare before roaring into laughter. His laugh shocks you, but it makes you laugh as well. 

“I thought it was quite obvious,” he says as he places a hand on your cheek. He carefully analyzes each feature of your face as if he’s savoring it all in before his eyes flicker at your lips.

“B-but, I didn’t hear you say it.” You say as you notice his stare, causing your breath to hitch. 

“I like you, Y/N.” Lorenzo slowly pulls you in closer and closer until your lips touch his. The feeling is immediate; it’s warm and electrifying. You can hear your heart thumping in your eyes as a strange warmth course throughout your body.

After a few seconds, you both pull away and look at each other in disbelief. It seems that the intense, crashing feelings you felt were mutual. You both laugh when you realize this. 

“That… was something,” Lorenzo says with a smile.

You give him a warm smile before resting your head on his chest. You feel him stiffen in surprise, but he soon relaxes and places his hand on your head, gently combing his fingers through your hair. You smile to yourself when feel his heart beating fast.

“But you should know,” Lorenzo says with a smirk, “that I like you more.”

You abruptly lift your head and give him a look of disbelief. “This isn’t a competition.”

“You only say that because you’re losing,” Lorenze teases with a laugh.

You laugh back and hit him. “Enzo, you get on my nerves!”

Hearing you say his nickname, Lorenzo smiles and a small tint of red appears on his cheek. “Good,” he says as he pulls you in closer, wanting to feel your soft lips on his again. “As long as you don’t get bored of me.” 

***

a/n: my first enzo fanfic! ahhh! it's also my first time writing in second person pov, and it's harder than i thought lol. and sorry to cormac mclaggen! i feel like he's a common antagonist in hp fanfics HAHA. also, i tried making y/n as general as possible so that it can appeal to everyone, but i couldn't help but add in the hair twirling. hair twirling is just so cute to me :')

fun fact! i chose olivia rodrigo's "get him back" as inspo because her lyrics have a double meaning: (1) she wants to get back together with her ex and (2) also get revenge on him. it emphasizes the fine line between love and hate, which i imagine academic rivals feel lol. hope you liked it! <3

[artists-ally]

{Acid nor Alkaline} Reader x Sub!Azriel

We hit 800 followers!!! Thank y'all so much for the never ending support, and we haven't even hit the year mark yet!!! Crazy shit. I love you all so so much, so enjoy this very very disgusting smut fic about Az being a naughty little boy. Enjoyyyy!! Title inspired by this song. p.s. thank you @sarawritestories for giving me some of the most wonderful ideas for this and a possible new series coming your way 🤫

Word Count: 6,117

Warnings: SMUT. Loads of it (😏), Dom!Reader, Sub!Azriel, degrading, sex as punishment, teasing, overstimulation, bondage, oral (m receiving), brat taming, humiliation, bit of unexplored voyerism.

Tagging: @velariscalling @d3ad-ins1de @a-courtof-azriel @artof-aristocracy @fourthwing4ever @librafairy @needylilgal022 @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @harrystylesfan2686 @justdreamstars

Summary: You put Azriel on a sex ban after he came without permission.

~~~~~

“I did not give you permission.”

“P-Please Yn-”

“Not yet,” I reprimand, shoving Azriel’s shoulders flat on the bed. “I told you no.”

Az pants. Mouth open, chest rising and falling under my palms. “Please, Yn. I-I need it so bad.”

“No you don’t. You’ll do exactly what I asked because you’re my good boy. Behave. You know I’m not afraid to punish you.”Az grit his teeth, hands coming to my hips. “Uh uh,” I click my tongue, forcing his hands off my body. “I didn’t say you could touch either.” 

“Fuuuuck,” he whines, bending his knees and using that leverage to fuck into me. “Please please please.”

“No,” I snapped, climbing off his lap. Off where he needs me most. “Didn’t I tell you to stop? Are you trying to be a fucking brat?”

“Y-Yn-”

“I did not give you permission to act like a spoiled little brat. Do you wanna cum? Do you wanna feel good? Only I get to decide. This cock is mine. You cum when I tell you.”

“Oh…oh fuck fuck fuck-”

I look down at Azriel’s dick, a sloppy, leaking mess. His cum runs down the side of himself, down the inside of his thigh. His eyes are screwed shut and he babbles like an idiot. Shock and utter disbelief slams into me. 

“You are so pathetic Az,” I shake my head. “Couldn’t wait for me to tell you when? That desperate? Such a fucking slut. A dumb, pussy drunk slut.” 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, though his eyes didn’t convey it.

“Oh, I bet you are. Well, you’re gonna be really fucking sorry after I’m done with you. No more playing until I find a suitable punishment for your actions.” 

His eyes widened in horror. “No playing? As in… no sex? At all?”

“You need to learn what self control means, Az,” I brush the hair out of his eyes, putting a sickly sweet smile on my lips. “Until you can understand how to obey me, you get nothing. No touches, no kisses, no getting off in the shower.”

I watch him swallow. “H-How did you know I was-”

“I know everything you do when it comes to your pleasure, Az. You thought you could hide it from me? You think you’re so clever? Oh Az, you’re even more pathetic than I thought you were. Don’t worry, I’ll make it all worth it in the end. But just know, you won’t be getting off easy. You’ll get punished for this, as well as finishing the punishment you were already taking. And I can’t forget about all the times you got off without me.”

“Yn I was just-”

“I don’t wanna hear your fucking excuses,” I yell, gripping his jaw so his eyes locked on me. So I know he’s gonna hear what I have to say. “Here are the rules: you are not allowed to touch me. You are not allowed to kiss me. You are not allowed to touch yourself. Are. We. Clear?”

I revel in the way his face falls. True, raw sadness seeping into his beautiful hazel eyes. 

Azriel nods weakly. I tighten my grip on his chin as well as thread my fingers through his hair. I yank. Hard. “Yes yes yes we’re clear.”

“Good boy.”

~~~~~

Azriel was losing his mind. I can tell by the way he sits. By the way he stands. It is killing him inside not to touch me. I made him start sleeping in a different bed just to add insult to injury. On day four, both Rhys and Cassian had to ask me what was up with him. They had never seen him so distracted during one of their training sessions. 

My reply was simple: Azriel knew better, and he got what he deserved. 

By the end of week one he started to follow me around like a lost pet. He clung to my side, staying just in my peripherals. Those wicked shadows grew tense. Every once in a while I would watch him get undressed, watching as he had to force himself to not touch. It seemed like he was always rock hard too. Every time I looked, he was ready to go. 

I was talking with Mor earlier in the day about Az’s… situation, and she suggested I try a different approach to the punishment. Truly test his determination and ability to not fold under pressure. Surely our courts Spymaster will be able to handle a little bit of torture, won’t he?

Simply because I cannot be that cruel, I give him one of his privileges back. He’s allowed to kiss me again, but he’s not allowed to touch me. I know it will be extra brutal considering just how much he loves to play with my hair or grab my ass while making out. 

He’s still not allowed to sleep in our bed, and he’s still not allowed to touch himself. Unless I give him explicit permission. I know he hasn’t cheated, otherwise I would’ve felt it down the bond. There’s no way for him to hide his pleasure from me. 

Mor, Cassian, Feyre, Rhys, Az and I are heading out to Rita’s tonight. They are having live musicians and Mor made a huge effort to make sure the crowd would be good. Whatever that means. We all head to our respective rooms and homes to get ready, and I start to make good on my plan. 

“Az, my love, can you come help me?” I call from the bedroom.

My shadow emerges from the bathroom, Illyrian armor giving off its natural sheene. “Yes?”

I have my backside facing him, completely naked. I make a show of bending over and grabbing my two dress options off of the bed. “Which one do you think will go better? Mor is wearing red and Feyre is wearing black.”

One dress was made of what looked like crushed emeralds. It was glittery and shiny and the most beautiful shade of deep forest green. The other was midnight blue to match Azriels siphons.

I already know which one he’s gonna pick, but I just wanna see him fight the urge to touch me. 

He swallows, eyes far from the dress as they settle on my chest… on my stomach… down my thighs. Fuck, those eyes of his do things to me I never thought possible. I clear my throat, and he snaps his eyes to me. “T-The blue one.”

“Hmm, thought so,” I smiled, turning around to put the green one back in the closet. I unzip the back, stepping into it. I can feel his eyes track my every movement. It’s like he's never seen me before and he’s worried I’ll disappear on him. My best guess is he’s savoring what he’s been given because he doesn’t know when he’ll have me next. 

My arms reach around and over my shoulder, trying to get the zipper. It’s so tiny and slippery. 

“May I?” Azriel asks quietly. 

I look over my shoulder at my poor boy. Gods he looks so distraught. And there's more than a tent in his armored pants. A wild grin spreads across my face. “No, you may not.”

Az lets out a whimper. 

“You did this to yourself, Az,” I remind the Shadowsinger. 

“Please, Yn,” he pleads, coming to stand right behind me. Warmth and need flow down the bond between us. “I’m sorry for being bad. I should’ve listened to you, I shouldn’t have been so selfish.”

A confession? Awww, so sweet. How dumb does he think I am? “I accept your apology.”

The light shines in his eyes as he picks up his head. “Really?”

“Yes, my love,” I nod, fixing a bit of his hair in the front. Azriel’s eyes close and he tries to lean into the touch. I rip my hand away before he can feel my skin. “But that doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

His eyes fly open. “W-What?”

“You heard me,” I narrowed my eyes, standing almost chest to chest with him. “You didn’t listen to me, so I will not hear your desperate, whining pleas. You did this to yourself, sweetie. This is a part of your punishment, you’ll be done suffering when I say so.”

“Yn this is cruel.”

An idea flickered to life in my head. “Would you like to see cruel?”

Eyes widening, Azriel’s face drained of color. “No no wait–”

“On the bed.”

“Wait Yn I didn’t–”

“On. The. Bed. Make me ask again and I’ll bring out the cuff and make you wear it all night at Rita’s.”

He was quick to sit on the bed. I knelt in front of him. I ripped down his armor and took him into my mouth, the familiar taste of him welcoming me. Azriel groaned, but he did a good job at keeping his hands to himself.

He shivered with every touch, ever passing of my tongue over his sensitive skin. I almost felt bad for what I was about to do. He’ll understand once it’s all said and done. Why he shouldn't ever disobey me again. 

“Wanna see how cruel I can be Az?” Already fucked out, he shook his head, his hair falling in front of his face as it lulls towards his chest. “For every letter of that word, I’m gonna bring you right to the edge, and then let you come all the way down. I’m gonna give the meaning of cruel a new definition tonight.”

“No… no Yn please let me cum,” Azriel begs. 

I laughed, loud and giggly right in his face. “Aww Az, I know you’re gonna be such a good boy and take your punishment so well, aren’t you baby? Yes, that’s it, give in to me. You know you need it, don’t fight it, just let me ruin you.”

~~~~~

By the time we made it to Rita’s, an hour had passed. The others were wondering what the delay was, but they took one look, one scent of the air and didn’t ask another question for the rest of the night. Azriel didn’t move from our table and didn’t take a single sip of his drink. He, genuinely, sat and watched the ice melt. 

“Yn Yn Yn,” Feyre calls, dragging me off the dance floor to the bar. “Don’t you think it’s fucking with Az a little too much?”

“Pff,” I snort, “If you saw the things he does to me you’d think I was being generous.”

“I’m just saying he’s your mate. It goes against every instinct in his body to not touch you or be near you. Are you sure he’s… okay?”

“Yes,” I nodded confidently. “We had a lengthy conversation before it began, and he was up for the challenge. He told me if he couldn’t stand it anymore, he’d tell me. And I’d listen. I’d be able to feel it if he was genuinely, whole-heartedly being compromised by the game.”

“So how does he feel then?” My High Lady asks, a smile curving onto her lips. 

I look back at my mate, finding his eyes already glued to my back. I just give a little wave of his fingers. He downs his drink in one gulp. “I’d say he’s feeling pretty guilty for what he did. But, at the same time, he’s never felt so satisfied in his whole life.”

~~~~~

By the end of week two, everyone is just as surprised as I am at how long this is going on. Az stopped caring about who knew, openly complaining about how needy he was. He was definitely gaining a bit of an attitude. I think he needs a bit of correction.

I strolled into the common room of the Town House and found my family sitting around. They had cards on the table and glasses of wine spread about. Amren currently had the biggest stack of chips in front of her. Rhys, Cass, Mor and Az all had close to none. 

“Sorry,” Amren grinned. “But that makes a full house.”

As she fanned the cards on the table, everyone else groaned, sacrificing their chips to Amren. “How do you manage to win every time?”

“Because she cheats,” Mor pouted, crossing her arms over the pillow in her lap. 

“Please, you and I both know that Cassian is the one who cheats.”

“I am not!” The Illyrian counters, slamming his fist down on the table. It rattled Amren's stacks, a few sliding over. Everyone around gave him a look. “Okay maybe here and there-”

“I’ve been telling you for years,” Az joined in. “Cass has been secretly stealing chips from my piles when we play. And none of you have ever believed me.”

“That’s because you’ve grown soft in your old age,” Rhys grinned, making Mor snicker. “Speaking of old age, I’m getting pretty tired of you moping around. Feels like it’s been an eternity. When is- oh! Yn, perfect timing. When are you gonna be nice and dick down Azriel?”

Amren just rolled her eyes, but Cassian and Mor cackled to the heavens. 

I came and sat beside Mor on the rug, leaning into her side. “I’m not sure. Az, when are you gonna stop being a brat so I can give you what you’ve earned?”

The temperature in the room dropped significantly. A new tinge of red splattered Azriel’s cheeks. Clearly he wasn’t expecting me to be so bold with my answer. 

“Have I not been good?”

“You’ve been complaining,” I said. “Not necessarily the good behavior I’ve been looking for. Oh well, maybe we can try again next week.”

A collective groan came from everyone besides Azriel. “Wait, seriously?”

Oh, now we’re talking through the bond?

“Yes, seriously.”

He sighed. “Yn this is–”

“Just know torture has far more letters than cruel, darling. We know what happened last time.”

I sent my mate images of him sprawled on the bed, body flush with need. His legs were spread open by my hands as I brought him to the edge five times over, but never let him release. By the third, I think he stopped feeling it all together. He was too sensitive and too desperate. He was whining and drooling like a mutt in heat. He was slick with sweat, thighs shaking as I used my mouth and hand at the same time. 

Azriel’s eyes shot away from me as the memory faded. 

“Are you sure you wanna test my patience again?”

“No…”

“That’s what I thought.”

“This is getting to be too much.”

“You’ll take as much as I say you will. Got it?”

Azriel still refused to look at me, so I ever so ‘gently’ sent some impulses down his body. He jolted, rising to his feet immediately. “That was not funny.”

“I never said I was trying to be funny.”

“Will you two take your lover quarrel elsewhere? It’s starting to stink in here,” Mor pinched her nose for dramatic effect, Cassian joining in. 

I grinned at Az, “Gladly. Az, let’s go.”

“But we just started a new–”

“It wasn’t a suggestion,” I say, narrowing my eyes and making my way to the door. 

He huffed, but grabbed his armored coat and followed behind me. “You’re being exceptionally demanding.”

I whirled around on my foot, Az slamming into my chest. “Wanna say that again?” 

His mouth slammed shut as he took a step back. I didn’t miss the way his hands shot out to try to clamp onto me. His shoulders tensed and his heart started racing. It was like thunder in my ears, as strong as my own pulse down the bond. 

“Do you think I’m above putting you on your knees and making them watch in that living room?”

The way his eyes widened would’ve made me laugh under any other circumstance. His body was rigid. He looked so small despite being a head and a half taller than me. 

“What do you say I make them watch as I give you a suitable punishment for your behavior in there. Do you think they’d like the show? Watching you turn into a whining, shivering, pathetic boy? Aww I bet you’d like it too. Having all the attention as I tell them about how you came when you weren’t supposed to. How you’ve been so rude and inconsiderate when it comes to the pleasure only I get to give you. Or maybe I make them punish you. They all get a turn to make you bend to their needs. I know you’d like that, you can’t even deny it. You’re so worked up by just my words. I haven’t even touched you.”

Az just stands there, stunned, arms slack at his side. His mouth gapes open to speak, but he never does. 

“Gods Azriel you are such a slut for me. You can’t even contain yourself anymore. Two weeks without my hands on your body and you’re falling apart. Pathetic. You’re so fucking pathetic Azriel. Maybe I will give you a new punishment. If you wanna cum so badly, maybe I do just that. Make you cum until nothing comes out. Drain you of every last drop so you can stop being so desperate.”

“Please…” He begs. One knee at a time, he falls to the ground, eyes wide. “Gods Yn I’d take anything you’d give me. Just please touch me. I-I need it so bad. I miss your touch, I miss your tongue and your hands and your pussy so much. I need it. I’ve never needed something so bad in my life.”

He’s breaking down. This is perfect. He’s just on the edge of incoherent and exactly where I want him when I give him his actual punishment. This has all been built up to the grand finale. To have tension so when I give him the final one, he cracks like an egg in the palm of my hand. He won’t be able to resist obeying me.

I just giggle at him, turning over my shoulder, and open up the door. “Let's go.”

He doesn’t hesitate to follow a second time. 

~~~~~

“Azzzrieeeel,” I called, wondering where he went off to. It’s the end of week three and I decided he’s had enough. I’m just too excited to watch him fall apart at my hands. He disappeared a little while ago. 

I can’t hear or see him, but I know he’s in his room. The tap is running in the bathroom, muffling the sounds. I sit patiently on the bed. 

Az has been good after our talk. He has retreated back to his quiet, broody self. No longer complaining about how viscous I am. I could’ve made true on my threat about bending him over in front of them, but I decided to spare him. 

He should be so grateful.

The door clicked open and Az jumped back at the sight of me on the bed. I just had a silk robe on. One he bought for me. It was black, but in the right light, it shifted to blue. This electric, start ridden blue that he loved to take off of me. This is not the first copy of this garment I’ve had. 

“Hi,” he said, voice low and thick. 

“Hi, pretty boy,” I said, watching the shiver go down his body. His cock started to swell immediately. I just smiled. “Are you ready for your punishment?”

Without hesitation, “Yes.”

“Just remember your privileges. Unless I give you permission, you’re not allowed. Understand?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he smiles, stepping closer and closer. 

“Hmm,” I hum, “But you might. On the bed.”

Azriel ditches the towel that was hung low on his hips, cock hard and waiting for me.

“So hard already, what a good boy. Knowing exactly what I want.”

I crawl on my knees to where he’s sat and swing them over his thighs. His hands clench the bed cover, desperately trying to keep control of his touch. I slide up just enough that the tip of his cock is rubbing between my thighs. His eyes shut and he inhales deep. 

“Be good.”

“I’m…” his whole body is vibrating. “I’m trying so fucking hard. I wanna be good. Wanna be your good boy tonight.”

I laugh softly, taking his chin in my hand. His eyes are dilated, lips are swollen from him chewing on them to resist giving in. “You are being such a good boy Azzie, keep your hands juuuust like that and this’ll be over soon enough.”

He’s gonna wish that were true. 

I slide back and forth, grinding on him to relieve my own pressure that’s built up. Counterintuitively, I’ve also placed myself on a sex ban. And it has not been easy. I’m pent up and desperate in my own way for the feeling of his length inside me. 

Azriel begins to squirm and I have to remind him to be still. He immediately obeys, fists continuing to strangle this poor bed cover. I slide the rest of the way over his dick, relishing in the way his body relaxes. 

“Does that feel good, baby? Did you miss my pussy so much?”

“Yes…” He sighs, eyes lulling shut. With every roll of my hips, a new sound comes out of him. Each one more breathy than the last. “Fuck… t-thank you, Yn.”

“Aww, already turning up the charm are we? I think you’ve earned a little reward.” I lean forward and gently kiss his lips, just barely touching the surface of his skin. He doesn’t lean in, he doesn’t chase, he sits there patiently like the good boy I know he can be. 

I push on my knees and rise up, settling all the way down on his length. Over and over I bounce in his lap, content at the feeling of him hitting all my spots. I gently kiss him, running my tongue over his bottom lip. I’m met with a heady moan, Azriel’s shoulders relaxing down. 

Time to turn up the heat. 

“Azriel,” I pant against his lips. 

“Yes, my lady?” He breathes, pupils dilated, breath hot against my own. 

I grin at him. “You’re not allowed to kiss me anymore.”

I watch his eyes fall, I can feel the disappointment down the bond. “Okay.”

“No kissing, no touching,” I reminded him. 

“No kissing…” I trail my tongue up his neck, biting down on his ear. “N-No touching.”

Az says it twice more, like a long forgotten prayer. An ancient mantra of self control. He’d need it for my next plan. 

I spend the next little while taking him fully, up and down and up and down. Cascading my nails down his shoulders and arms, my lips over his neck and chest. He is a whining, uncontrollable mess. The veins in his forearms are swollen with adrenaline, full from his death grip on the sheets. 

Shadows swirl around our bodies, the fog like caress cooling my skin with every touch. 

I push him flat on the bed, using my hands on his chest as more leverage. I work myself on him, relishing in the strength he’s showing. The shere restraint he has. The discipline. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s learned his lesson. 

But I did know better. And I can’t wait to break him. 

I reach down and rub my clit gently. The stretch of his cock buried deep in me adds the extra stimulation I need. I’m so sensitive. After three weeks of no action, which I know is my fault, I’m right on the edge. 

“You wanna make me cum, Azriel?”

“F-Fuck yes, Yn, please,” Az begs. “I wanna make you cum so bad. You deserve it.”

“Mmm,” I hum, circling my finger softly. I muster up the most sickly-sweet voice I can. “Such a good boy, Azzie. Get me there, please I need you.”

I watch as he lifts his head, right hand unfurling from his grip on the bed. He reaches across his body, his thumb ready to take over. But just before he touches me where I need him most, he stops, eyes locking with mine. 

“Please give me permission,” he begs. His hand is literally trembling. 

“Fuck, Az, I need it. Touch me please baby I want you to make me cum.”

“I-I need permission, I can’t touch you,” he begs, eyes going a little stupid.

A wicked, evil look crosses over my features. Time to really mess with him. “But I need it Az. I need you to make me cum. F-Fuck I need you Azriel please make me cum.”

“Just give me permission baby and I’ll bring the stars down for you,” he promises. Going back to fisting the sheets in his fingers. “F-Fuck Yn please give me permission. I’ve been such a good boy, let me prove how good I can be just give me-”

I hopped off his lap, not missing the guttural noise that came from him. I walked over to the dresser against the wall and took out the bundle of rope I hid a few days ago. I’m not entirely sure how he didn’t find it. I had it specially made for this night a few days ago.

Azriel is going to hate it. 

I unwind it, stretching it between my arms. I come back to the edge of the bed and curl my finger at him, beckoning him to sit upright. He rises up and scoots closer to me. I take a second to just look at my Shadowsinger. His chest is flushed, those whirling, bargain tattoos moving with each breath. His hair is a tousled mess, going this way and that. His lips are pink and swollen, just like his tip. I bend forward, gently running my tongue over his slit. 

“F-Fuck,” he stammers out. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Stand up. Turn around. Arms behind your back.”

I see the conflict in his eyes, feel his hesitation down the bond. “You want to tie me up?”

“Oh Az,” I smiled sweetly, coming to stand in between his knees. I reached down, gripping him tightly in my palm. He hissed, entire body tensing up. “I’m going to do far worse things than tie you up. Now be a good boy and give me your hands.”

 Eagerly, he stood up, putting his back to me. His hands neatly folded together, fingers interlaced. I trailed the end of the rope down the center of his back, over the crest of his wings. I loved the way his body rippled, loved the way his muscles twitched and his skin crawled with need. 

“You’ve been such a good boy,” I praised as I began to try the magic-hilted rope around his wrists. “My good boy, taking your punishment so well these last couple weeks. I know you loved it as much as I did, knowing it would be worth it for when I gave you your reward.”

“Anything to make you happy,” he breathed out, head lulling back when I gave them a firm tug. I opened that bond and let him see himself through my eyes. I could feel the way his body reacted. Every cell in his body rolled with this animalistic desire. This primal need to release. 

“Sit,” I order, pushing down on his shoulder until he sits on the edge of the bed. I crawl into his lap, guiding him deep inside me. A content sigh leaves my lips at the feeling of our bodies being reunited. “Az?”

His eyes roll shut when I move my hips back and forth. “Y-Yes?”

“You can touch me now, I give you permission.”

Two things happened. I watched the relief flood his body, feeling it as if it was my own. I watched his face and shoulders relax. Then, I watched him try to move his arms. And a sick, twisted, ruthless grin curled my lips. 

Watching him struggle, knowing it would be useless, was a different type of arousal. The fibers of muscles in his shoulders strained, veins bulging down his arms and up his neck as he struggled. 

“Wh-What the fuck are these ropes?” He grunted, pulling and pulling to no avail. 

“I had them warded by a sorcerous in town,” I smiled, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “Specially crafted so that only I can undo them.”

“You…” he cried out, struggling against them one last time before grunting out a breath. “You are ruthless.”

“Yup,” I agreed, gripping his midnight black locks as hard as I could. “And you fucking love it. Wanna play a game, baby?”

“I wanna touch you, that's what I wanna do. Please undo the ropes, my love. Please,” Azriel begs. 

“Uh uh uh,” I shake my head, swiveling my hips, adoring the way he moans. “I’m not done with you yet. I’m gonna stay right here, doing whatever I fucking please to you, and you’re going to keep trying to break the ropes. You have all your privileges back, you can touch me, you can kiss me. But you are not allowed to cum. Understand?”

“Yn please baby, I-I just wanna worship you, just untie me and I can make you cum as many times as–”

“Understand?” I raised my eyebrows, flatting him on the bed with both my hands on his chest.

“Y-Yes,” he breathes out, eyes trained on the ceiling. I let up, releasing him from his pinned position, and he shot up, lips trailing all over my skin. Like my body was his first breath of air, he drank me in as fast as he could. I felt him throb inside me, tiny, pathetic whimpers spilling out of his lips. 

“Aww you wanna touch me so bad don’t you? Fuck me on your cock, hmm?” I teased, my own touches light against his shimmering skin. 

“Fuck Yn I want it so bad,” he bucked up his hips.

“Just give in, Azriel,” I taunted, matching his thrusts. “Beg me to untie your hands so you can finally touch what's yours.”  

He shook his head, gasping for a breath when I reached behind me and cupped him in my hands. “No? You don’t wanna touch me? Grab my hips as you fuck me hard and fast? Don’t wanna taste my pussy? You sure?”

“Oh fuck Yn,” he grit his teeth. I could feel the muscles in his thighs quiver. 

“Don’t cum yet, I haven’t given you permission,” I whispered in his ear, relishing the way he tried to run from me. “Aww, what? You can’t handle it? You’ll be done taking your punishment when I say so. You were such a bad boy, Azriel. You know I have to make sure you won’t ever do it again. Now be a good boy and break the ropes, touch me. I need you to touch me so so badly. You don’t wanna disobey me again do you?”

“No no no just let me–”

“Come onnn,” I purr, tilting my head and lowering my voice. “Be my good good boy, Azriel. Break the ropes for me. I know you need me sooo bad. Just be my good little boy and make me happy.”

“But I c-can’t I need you to untie them,” he huffed, arms bulging behind his back. 

I took a good look at him, at his flushed chest and the veins running the length of his biceps. Fuck he looked…

I clenched tight around him, shivering when I heard him cry out. 

“Aww what’s wrong baby?” I cooed, cupping his face gently in my palms. 

“I wanna fill you up so bad, Yn,” he cried out, chest heaving for air. “Please let me cum, I wanna cum so bad I need to cum–”

“Not yet, pretty boy,” I denied, and Azriel groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Not until you get out of the binds.”

“But I can’t!” He croaked. “I can’t I can’t I can’t”

“Oh but you’re going to,” I gripped his chin, forcing his eyes to mine. Cauldron above he looked drunk off of me. “Or you can give in, admit defeat and I’ll untie them for you. Come on sweetness, give in.”

I began to bounce up and down on his cock, going all the way up and all the way down. I felt the convulsion run through his entire body. Every time I came down on him, he let out these little noises. Whimpers and soft frustrated groans of pure torture. 

“Don’t you wanna make me cum?” I circled my clit, shivering out a breath. “Don’t you want to be the one to make me cum all over your cock? Please baby, make me cum all over you.”

He let out a string of curses, trying to gain some leverage to fuck into me. “Please please please please please.”

“Use your big boy words, Azzie, what do you want?”

“Oh fuck fuck fuck, Yn. Yn… Yn please oh gods Yn please please–”

“You wanna cum, huh?” He nodded, complete fucked out and gone. 

“So fucking bad Yn I need it. I’ve been such a good boy for you. I’m sorry for disobeying you. I’m sorry for talking back and being difficult. Just please let me cum I wanna be such a good boy and do it just for you. Fill you up so much, watch it spill out of you. Please let me cum please Yn I can’t hold it back any more please fuck–”

“You want me to stop?” He shook his head rapidly. “I haven’t given you permission to cum, baby. Don’t cum. Do you want me to stop?”

“No no no I wanna cum–”

“I don’t care if you wanna cum,” I grinned, fuccking him harder. “Your job is to please me, and I won’t be pleased if you don’t follow my orders, remember how  you got here in the first place. Tell. Me. To. Stop. A good boy would tell his lady to stop.”

He heaved for a breath, gulping air down, a useless mess of moans and pleasure sounds. “S-S-Stop.”

I halted my hips, brushing his hair away from his face as I kissed up and down his neck. “Good boy, Azriel. Such a good boy for me, yes.”

I reached around and undid the one knot holding the binds in place. They fell off his wrists and he sobbed in relief, a few tears streaking down his face. A few landed on my chest. 

“Lick them up,” I ordered. 

Without a second thought, he licked his tears off my chest. I massaged his shoulders and slowly, so slowly, his hands came to cup my ass. His hands were vibrating with energy. He watched with bated breath to see how I’d react. 

“My good boy,” I praised, kissing his cheek. “You wanna make me cum?” 

“Please.”

“Get to it then,” I smiled, kissing his lips fiercely. For a moment, he forgot the task at hand, falling deep into the reunification of our lips. 

I was on my hands and knees the next second. I had to brace one hand on the headboard so he would plow me through it completely. Using his wings for leverage, gusts of wind sending goosebumps across my skin, he fucked into me as hard as he could. 

“F-Fuck Az– you feel so good,” I said. 

“Cum on my cock, my love,” he insisted, and who was I to deny him. 

Just like he promised, stars lined my vision. I came hard enough to more or less paralyze my entire body. I slumped on my chest, content to let him do whatever he wanted. He had served his punishment well enough. 

I rocked with his body as he fucked into me. He was so fucking deep. 

“Y-Yn please–”

“Cum, Azriel.”

As if my very word granted his body, Azriel thrusted twice before going still, wings pumping behind him. I felt every inch of him inside me, every throb and pulse of his release. I could feel it seep down the inside of my thigh. 

He pulled out quickly, collapsing on the bed. I looked over my shoulder to make sure he was okay, still seeing his chest rising and falling. 

On shaky, stiff legs, I crawled over to him, placing my hand on his chest. “You were such a good boy. My good good boy, Azriel.”

He gave a limp thumbs up. I chuckled. 

“You okay?” I asked, kissing some of the marks I left on his bronze skin. 

“Mhmm,” he nodded, voice a little garbled. 

“I’ll go start a bath, then we can relax and soak for a while, sound good?”

“Yes please,” he nodded, nuzzling his body into mine as best he could. “Thank you.”

“Of course, baby. Thank you for being a good boy for me.”

"Wait, Yn," he grabbed my hand, pulling me back when Is tood up to go to the washroom.

"Yes baby?" I asked.

"I love you," he smiled.

"I love you, my shadow."

[rinslutz]

Can i order uuuhhh a dose of second chance romance with satoru? You broke up with him because his ass cheated but now that you guys are starting over, you can't help but still doubt his efforts. (having massive trust issues) but he of course promised to do whatever it takes to gain your trust again. Lots of reassurance pls. We love a devoted Satoru ☹️🤞

ᥫ᭡ “AFRAID” — GOJO SATORU

ㅤꞋꞌꞋꞌ fem!reader, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, mentions of cheating, gojo pleads on his knees, gojo is pathetic, reassuances

a/n: anon…you awoken something in me. this is much longer than i wanted it to be and its a bit more than you asked for, sorry.

2 weeks 4 days 15 hours 56 minutes 12 seconds. that’s how long it’s been since satoru last saw you. he wishes he hasn’t been keeping track of the time but it’s the only thing keeping him from succumbing to his sadness. he hates himself for being sad. he doesn’t deserve to feel sad. all of this is his fault.

satoru has been wallowing in his self pity for the past 2 weeks. if he didn’t have a class to teach, he’s sure he would never move from his bed. school and home. those are the only two places you’ll find satoru. so when suguru notices that he hasn’t seen his loser best friend in 2 weeks he “kidnaps” him as satoru claims.

“have you even tried talking to her?” suguru asks nonchalantly. satoru’s nose crinkles in annoyance. why would he ask such a stupid question?

“she doesn’t want to speak to me.” satoru says dryly. this conversation is already starting to frustrate him. he runs his hands down his face.

“did you try though?” satoru is convinced that suguru’s only goal right now is to annoy him. if he wanted to talk about his failing relationship with him, he would’ve called him weeks ago.

satoru sighs obnoxiously, “of course i haven’t. she probably doesn’t want me within 10 feet of her. she hates me.” saying that aloud for the first time makes his eyes burn with tears. he rubs them furiously, not wanting to cry in front of suguru.

“so,” suguru pauses to chew the chips he’s been snacking on the whole time. “you mean to tell me you cheated on your girl, she kicked your ass out, and you’re not begging on your knees for forgiveness right now?” suguru’s statement and the crinkling of his bag of chips send satoru’s annoyance into overdrive. he snatches the bag from suguru’s hands, balls it up, and throws it into a nearby trash can.

“hey, don’t get pissy with me because i’m right.” suguru holds his hands up in defense.

satoru doesn’t reply. he is right though. satoru has convinced himself that he should try to speak to you because you wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. in reality, he’s afraid. afraid to face you. afraid to get confirmation that he has lost you forever. but if there’s even a slight chance that begging on his knees would work, he would do it immediately.

you hate him. you hate how even after what he did every part of him, every memory you made with him, every time he told you he loves you, still occupies your brain. the stupid smile still pops into your brain when you’re having a particularly bad day. you wish with some much in you that picturing his smile didn’t immediately make you feel better. it was that smile though. the smile that’s only reserved for you.

you wish you hated him for cheating on him. you’re just hurt. your chest hurts every day. every morning you wake up with sore red eyes from crying yourself to sleep. you hope he’s been crying himself to sleep too, though you doubt it. as desperate as satoru usually acts you expected him to try and contact you. at least once. you got nothing and somehow that hurt more than his infidelity.

the quiet night you’re having is interrupted by the loud and persistent knock at your door. you have no idea who it could be at this hour, so you don’t move immediately. maybe it’s a neighbor wanting to borrow something. if you don’t move maybe they’ll think you’re not here.

“baby?”

your head snaps to the door in surprise. almost immediately, tears spring to your eyes. it hurts hearing his voice for the first time in 2 weeks. you don’t move. you want to open the door but you know you shouldn’t.

“please…can we talk?” it's rare to hear him speak this softly. satoru’s loud knocks begin to soften. you reluctantly get up from your spot on the couch to open the door. you open the door but not all the way, only enough to see his face.

he stands there with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he stands there awkwardly. not sure what to do with his arms, they lay flat at his sides.

“can i come in?”

“leave.” you choke out. you refuse to cry in front of him.

“i can’t.” he steps closer to you. “i need to talk to you. i…i need you.”

you wish you didn’t say that. you wish he didn’t sound so broken when he said it. and because you’re weak for him you let him in. even though you let him in you don’t let him more than 3 feet inside.

you two just stare at each other for moments. his eyes rake over you, taking in every part of you. it felt like an eternity since he’s seen you, he had begun to convince himself that he forgot what you looked like. a stupid thought since he often stared at the small picture of you he kept in his wallet.

“i’m sorry.”

you laugh at that and satoru feels like everything is already falling apart. he’s already messed up. your bitter laugh makes the tip of his ears redden and burn in embarrassment.

“you’re sorry? that’s what you came here to say?”

he wants to tell you that it’s not true, but he didn’t come here to say sorry. he is sorry whether you believe him or not.

“you fucked someone else but you’re sorry so it’s okay right?” your voice is harsh and bitter. and if it weren’t for the tears streaming down your face he would assume you’re just angry. you’re hurt instead and he’s the reason why.

“no that’s not what i’m trying to say.” he shakes his head softly, “it’s not okay. i did the one thing you told me you could never forgive me for.”

if you didn’t love him you would laugh again. if you didn’t love him you would kick him out right now. but if you didn’t love him you would feel empty right and somehow that’s much worse.

“i am sorry. i wish i could explain why i did it-”

“cheated. you cheated. instead of saying “it” say the word gojo.”

he swallows that lump forming in his throat. the way you said his name burned his ears. the bitter tone and the fact that it was his last name.

“i cheated and i regret it so fucking much.”

unconsciously he reaches to grab your hand. when you don’t pull away, he grips your hand tighter. if this is the last time he ever gets to touch you, any part of you, he wants to remember the way your soft skin feels against his. he wants to memorize the way your hand fits perfectly in his and the way your hand warms his cold fingertips.

“i love you so much and i need you. i know you don’t need me but i don’t know what i’m doing. i-i can’t think straight, i can barely breathe when i’m not near you.” he has to swallow again to keep from crying.

“i hate you.”

“i know. i hate me too.”

when you don’t say anything satoru thinks he’s making progress. your eyes don’t hold the anger that they once did. then you pull your hand from his and satoru swears the earth shakes. he pulls his hand back to his side. he clenches his fists, his fingernails pierce his skin. he hopes the pain will distract him from the pain of his heart being ripped out of his chest.

“please,” he says weakly.

you don’t want to give in. he’s done nothing to deserve your forgiveness. you hate yourself for wanting to pull him against you to wipe away his tears. you hate yourself for wanting to forgive. you hate him for sounding so sincere.

“how can i ever trust you again?” satoru doesn’t know how to answer that. you shouldn’t trust him again. satoru is confident that he’d never betray your trust again because the pain of being apart from you like this again very well might kill him. and he’d rather died than hurt you again.

he knows that there’s so way for you to be certain that he won’t hurt you again. you can’t see into his brain or his heart. you can’t see the way his soul yearns to intertwine with yours again, forever.

before he can answer suguru’s stupid voice fills his head. “you mean to tell me. you cheated on your girl, she kicked your ass out, and you’re not begging on your knees for forgiveness right now?” he knows he deserves to beg on his knees. you deserve to have him pathetically beg for your forgiveness.

so, without another word, he bends down on his knees. he grabs both of your hands in his and looks up at you. his heart beats heavily in his chest.

“i will never hurt you again. i promise. i will do anything you want me to in order to prove it to you.” his knees were already beginning to hurt. this pain is nothing compared to the pain he’ll feel if you never forgive him.

“you don’t have to forgive me. you shouldn’t. i’m just asking for a chance to prove myself to you.” he grips your hands tighter, afraid you’ll pull away again.

you’re sure you're making the dumbest decision of your life. you’re weak for him and you may always be. when you left him the night you found out he cheated, you left with your heart still in his hands. tonight, you’ll let him keep it for a little while longer.

“one chance. you fuck up even a little-” before you’re able to finish your sentence, your lips are pressed against him. one of his presses against the back of your head, keeping you pressed against him. the familiar warmth of his lips against yours makes you melt against him. you slowly and reluctantly wrap your arms around his waist.

a small sob slips from his lips, making you jump slightly. tears fall from his eyes again, wetting both of your cheeks. his arms grip you tighter, almost as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

“thank you,” he whispers against your lips

he’s late. for anyone in a normal relationship, this wouldn’t be that bothersome. unfortunately for you, you don’t completely trust your boyfriend. not a hundred percent.

it’s eleven pm and he was meant to be home an hour ago. you tried reasoning with yourself. maybe he is stuck fighting a curse? maybe the higher-ups forced him into doing something? you tried thinking of anything besides the one thing that’s nagging at your brain.

he promised and you believed him. you’re starting to think you’re an idiot for trusting him, trusting that he’d stay loyal. how could you have been so dumb?

you’re staying at his apartment tonight, per his request. he promised that he’d be home in time to catch the new episode of your shared favorite show. he broke that promise so what other promises will he break tonight?

you hear the sound of a key entering the door and seconds later it opens. satoru walks in quietly. there’s a certain look on his face that you cant read. you assume the worst. before you can think critically you shoot up from your spot on the couch and storm over to him.

“how was it?” your voice is bitter and you hate the way it cracks at the end. you hate the way your eyes are already beginning to burn.

satoru look at you, confused. he’s not sure what you mean or why you’re angry. he’s tired and he’s not sure he can deal with this right now. the events of today and the fact that he needed to stay at work later than usual is taking a toll on his body.

“baby, what are you talking about?” he reaches for you and you back away from him. for a second he feels the memories of that day flood his mind. the familiar way you back away from him, the familiar look in your eyes. you can’t possibly think that right now.

“no. hey, don’t let your mind go to that.” he successfully grabs your hand in his and pulls it to his lips. immediately you feel the harsh beating in your chest slow down.

“did you cheat on me?” you ask. you just want an answer now. you need to know if you’ll be leaving tonight or falling asleep in his arms as usual.

“no. i promised you. do you want me to get on my knees for you again?” the look in his eyes is unwavering. when you don’t answer he falls to his knees in front of you.

“a curse attacked a town and killed hundreds of people. it was pretty powerful and it took me longer than usual. that’s where i was. i promise.” he stares into your eyes. there is no hint of a lie to be found.

“i know it’s going to take you a while to trust me again. i will get on my knees every day and promise not to hurt if that’s what it will take.”

you feel like a fool even though you shouldn’t. he understands that you don’t trust him completely and he’s working toward that. you’re embarrassed even though he’s the one on his knees right now. you nudge his hand and motion for him to get up.

“i’m sorry-”

“no. you have nothing to be sorry for.” once he stands he grabs your face in both of his hands. one of his thumbs brushes against you bottom lip. his eyes are soft as he looks at you.

“i promise.” he doesn’t need to say what he promises. you know what he means. he pulls your face towards his and places a sloppy kiss against your lips.

“i love you.” you don’t reply but he knows you love him too.

©rinslutz

[justnatoka]

Deliver me from darkness

Poly! The Lost Boys x GN! Reader

A/n: This piece is very special to my heart. This is for everyone who felt self-hatred before or like they didn’t deserve to be loved (me included). Of course, these issues are not so easy to solve, but I hope this little thing can make at least a few people feel better. Please, if you know someone who has these thought, show them kindness, a few caring words really can go a long way.

Word count: ~3.2k

Warning: depressive thoughts, feelings of self-hatred, of not being enough, self-isolation, angst with a happy ending

Prompt: “Nobody’s seen you in days.”

Song recommendation: In The Androgynous Dark by Brambles (I know it doesn't fit the vibe of the movie, but it's what I was listening to while writing.)

The fluttering of wings infiltrated the quiet of your bedroom. A slight push, and your windows slowly opened, bringing with them the scent of the warm summer night. Your heavy curtains that kept the room dark for the last couple of days got caught in the breeze, and in the small gap between them a sliver of moonlight stretched across your floor. It was soon blocked out, however, as a familiar figure stepped into the room, pausing for a second as he noticed the lump of blankets on the bed. When all he could hear was soft breathing, he made his way over there, his footsteps echoing loudly in the stillness.

You knew who he was the second he entered, the smell of cigarette smoke clinging to him like a second skin. And as you felt the bed dip behind you and a hand on your shoulder above all the layers, you could faintly make out a scent underneath, one that was all him, so indescribably David.

“Nobody’s seen you in days, darling. We were starting to get worried. I came to check on you.” He spoke with such tenderness, as if afraid that you would shatter any second. It was a tone so uncharacteristic of him, but it made your chest ache with longing. When you didn’t answer, he continued. “Can you say something? Just so I know you’re alright?”

You wanted to scoff at that. You were obviously not alright, and he could clearly see that as well.

“Why did you come here, David?” Your voice sounded rough and unfamiliar, not having been used in a while, and although you couldn’t see it, his eyebrows furrowed in concern at the sound.

“Like I said, we were worried. You didn’t come to meet us on the boardwalk, and none of us heard from you in a while. We even went to ask Michael if he knew anything.”

As he was explaining, you slowly tuned him out, not wanting to hear anymore, not wanting to listen to his concern. It only made you feel more miserable. When he stopped, you spoke up again.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” you whispered. Sensing his confusion you added, “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

David’s heart clenched at how pathetic you sounded, and it only made him more sure of himself.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, and neither are they.”

You heard whispering as more people stepped in through your window. They were probably waiting outside for a sign to come in, not wanting to overwhelm you all at once. The thought caused your chest to ache even more.

“We won’t let you suffer alone, sugar,” Marko declared.

“We’re here to take care of you, dollface,” Paul added.

“Whatever you need,” Dwayne finished.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you finally made a move, slowly turning over and looking at them. Their heart broke when they took in you appearance. You hair was a mess, your skin pale and tired, your eyes puffy and red from crying, fresh tears running down your cheeks. You looked sad and exhausted, and all they wanted was to take the pain away from you, to see your sunny smile once again.

Paul was the first to move. “Oh, honey,” he sighed as he came over, scooping you up and into his lap, enveloping you in his arms. You sniffled as you buried your face into his chest. You felt more hands on you, Marko draping himself over you from the other side, and Dwayne sneaking his arms around all three of you. Not feeling like he had any space left in the group hug, David opted to link his fingers with yours, holding your hand and caressing your knuckles gently.

Feeling all this love around you, you broke down. This time, crying your heart out actually felt cathartic, not full of bitterness and sorrow like the past few days. As if their mere presence, the smallest sign that they cared, that someone cared at all opened the floodgates and washed away all the miserable thoughts you bombarded yourself with while no one was watching.

Their love was overwhelming. It’s what drove you to lock yourself away in a dark moment, the small voice in your head slowly poisoning your mind with doubt. Not feeling like you deserved any of it, your thoughts spiraled, constantly questioning why they chose you, hurling insult after insult towards yourself until you felt like breaking. After a while, there was just numbness, having tired yourself out with trying to withstand the waves of self-hate. But it was also their love that drove the darkness away, and as your sobs quietened down, so did the small voice in the back of your head. When you lifted your head, your eyes meeting David’s over the limbs and shoulders, all you saw was affection and reassurance, and after a long few days, you finally started to feel like you were going to be alright.

When they felt you shift, the boys unwrapped themselves from around you. Your heart swelled as you saw the tear tracks on Paul’s cheeks, moved that he cared enough to cry for you. You reached over and wiped them down, not wanting to see him sad anymore. You couldn’t help but notice that Marko’s eyes also glistened suspiciously, but he turned away, rubbing at his own face in hopes you wouldn’t see.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Dwayne’s gentle voice drew your attention.

“No, at least not now,” you shook your head, your voice hoarse from all the crying. “Maybe I’ll be ready to talk about it later, but right now I just want to be with you guys.”

He nodded in understanding. “We’ll be here when you’re ready.”

You took his hand and gave it a thankful squeeze, your words failing you. He smiled back at you warmly.

“Well then,” David spoke up, his gloved hand still holding your own. “How about we help make you feel better, kitten? Come with me, let’s take a warm shower while the boys set everything up.”

He was already pulling you with him, out of your cocoon of blankets, out of the bed you barely left in the past few days. The only time you got up was to get something to eat from the kitchen or dragging yourself to use the bathroom, your limited amount of willpower only able to do so much. Now you let him guide you out the door, sending one last glance behind him at the others, silently communicating as you’ve seen them do so many times before, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by ‘set everything up’.

He brought you to the bathroom, letting go of your hand to turn on the faucet, even pulling off his glove to check the temperature. When he was satisfied, he started making his way towards the door to give you some privacy. A sudden desperation clenched your lungs, and the next instant you were holding onto his hand tight. His face mirrored your own surprise, both of you caught off-guard by your fast movements. You felt your stomach flip, anxiety gradually turning into embarrassment, and you had to drop your gaze to the floor.

“Could you… would you stay with me?” You had to force the words out of your mouth. Shame crept into your mind about how pathetic you sounded, but after the last few days the thought of being alone for just a second sounded even more unbearable. After a long moment, gentle fingers cupped your cheek, the chill from his bare skin creeping into your own. David brought your gaze back up at him, and every little doubt disappeared at the understanding that radiated from his cool blue eyes.

“Of course I’ll stay, kitten, if that’s what you need.”

A smile turned the corners of your lips upward, a small one, but a smile nonetheless.

“There you are,” he teased softly. “That’s my darling I like to see.”

When your smile grew even brighter, he looked visibly relieved, feeling glad that he could finally pull you out of that suffocating cocoon of darkness bit by bit. He sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, making himself comfortable. You looked at him fondly a moment longer, letting the bathroom fill with steam from the hot water, fogging up the mirror. You wondered if he was feeling warm in all those layers as you turned your back at him and started peeling off your own clothes.

Your embarrassment returned when you felt his eyes on your bare back, your shirt dropping to the floor, soon joined by your pants and underwear. You felt completely bare standing in front of him in every sense of the word. He’s seen you naked before, they all have, but this was the first time you’ve been so vulnerable. You didn’t share your dark thought with people, not wanting to hear their pity, not wanting to seem as weak as you felt sometimes. But for the first time, he’s seen your everything, all your flaws and doubts and fears. It was a whole new type of nakedness, and it made you self-conscious. However, when you turned around to face him, all you saw was love in his eyes, and just like that, baring your soul didn’t feel so scary anymore. You knew this was a huge step, a new, deeper kind of trust was forming between you, and it made you feel safer than ever.

You stepped under the warm spray of water, not bothering to close the shower curtains all the way. You didn’t feel the need for it anymore, you had nothing to hide, and in your current state, you couldn’t care less if water got all over your floor anyway. Slowly, the tension in your muscles started to ease up, the hot shower washing away any remnants of the dark cloud that’s been festering in your mind. And you were pretty sure that David’s presence just a few feet away had a lot to do with that too. Just knowing that he’s there was enough.

As you got out of the shower, feeling refreshed and warm after the grime and sadness of the past few days have been washed away, David was already waiting for you with a towel. He wrapped you up, rubbing over your arms and back as you leaned into him, burying your nose against his collar and breathing in his scent.

“I’m gonna bring you some clothes, okay? I’ll be right back.” He seemed just as reluctant to let go as you were, but the shower helped, and you nodded, signaling that you would be alright to stay alone for a few minutes.

As he opened the door to leave, the sound of Paul and Marko bickering filtered into the bathroom along with clattering and something crashing. David and you shared a look.

“It’s okay, go and sort it out. I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. He let out a sigh as left to see what the hell those two were up to. Before you closed the door behind him, you could hear his chastising voice, followed with Marko’s complaining, and you cracked a smile.

By the time David came back, you’ve already dried you hair and was just sitting around, waiting for him. Accepting the pajamas he brought you, you dropped the towel and started getting dressed. This time, the feeling of his eyes on your body stirred something inside you, but you pushed it aside. There will be time for that later, when you didn’t feel so raw, when the memory of your pain wasn’t so fresh.

After you finished, he took your hand again and guided you back into your room. You were amazed at how different it felt now, as if someone sucked out all the darkness and negativity while you were in the shower. You had a feeling that Dwayne had something to do with that, as he was just finishing up with piling every pillow he found in the house on your bed. He had changed the sheets, and made a little nest from pillows and blankets that you honestly couldn’t wait to sink into. You also noticed that all the trash you accumulated the last few days and couldn’t bother to clean up, every single food wrapper, empty water bottle and used tissue disappeared. He even found some candles god knows where and lit them up around the room, creating a truly cozy atmosphere. The curtains were fully open now, the balmy summer night air seeping in through the open windows.

Dwayne raised his head when he heard your footsteps, and by the way his eyes wandered from you to David, you were sure he felt that something had changed between you two. Guided by a sudden urge, you went over to him and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his chest, wanting to reassure him that you were better now. You felt him hugging you back, but you couldn’t see him exchanging a look with David over your head, the leader sending him a silent answer to his unspoked question. He smiled at last, satisfied with what he heard, and finally letting himself really sink into your embrace.

The moment was broken by the sound of more footsteps and bickering back and forth, stopping at the door, then everything went silent.

“Babe?” Paul’s voice was hesitant, but as you unwrapped yourself from Dwayne, turned around and smiled at them, all his worry seemed to disappear. A huge grin lit up both his and Marko’s faces, and quickly discarding what was in their hands, they were on you the next second, wrapping you in a tight hug from both sides, almost knocking you over.

“It’s so good to see you smiling again, sugar,” Marko laughed into your ear from behind, while Paul peppered kisses all over your face, causing you to burst out in giggles as well. You couldn’t help but feel your heart grow twice in size, so full of love for these four. A few tears escaped your eyes, and hearing you sniffle softly, they instantly let you go, fussing over you with panicked faces.

“It’s okay, guys, these are happy tears,” you smiled, your voice thick from all the emotions you felt at once. Paul moved to wipe them away from your cheeks, just like you had done to him before. The moment he was out of the way, Marko pulled you against him, his fingers digging into you as he held you tight, his forehead resting on your shoulder.

“We were so worried when you didn’t show up for days. You could’ve gotten hurt for all we knew,” he mumbled against you. “And when we came to check on you and saw that you really were hurting and didn’t tell us I couldn’t… I felt to useless. I felt like I failed you.” His voice cracked at the end, and a fresh bout of tears escaped your eyes as you tightened your hold on him, your fingers sneaking into his hair and stroking his head.

“I’m sorry I made you worry. But you are not useless, you hear me? Do not blame for yourself for this. I should have come to you when I first started slipping into darkness. But that doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that you are here right now, and that’s more than enough,” your voice started to waver. “I love you all so much. And even though I might have some similarly dark moments in the future, I want you to know that you make me so incredibly happy, and I couldn’t be luckier to be loved by all of you.”

By now, tears were flowing freely from your eyes again. However, these weren’t tears of sadness anymore, but of healing. It took a few more minutes for Marko to let go of you, and as you looked into his eyes after retreating from his embrace, they were as red as your own. You sent him a watery smile, and swore to yourself deep within your heart that you would do everything in your power to not make him cry again.

“So,” you started, not wanting to talk about sadness anymore that night, “what were you guys doing in my kitchen?” you peered over Marko’s shoulder to discover two big trays they discarded on top of your dresser when they came in. They were practically overflowing with stuff.

“Oh, right,” Paul picked them up and brought them over one by one, setting them on the coffee table they brought in from the living room. “We got some snacks and some takeout, and we even made hot choco.” He looked very proud at that. “We would have marshmallows in it if someone hadn’t forgotten about them.”

“Hey, I told you already, that was your job,” Marko countered.

“No, it wasn’t!”

“Guys, it’s fine,” you chuckled. “It’s going to be just as good without marshmallows.”

“No, it’s not,” Paul pouted. “I wanted everything to be perfect for you.”

Your heart swooned. “I appreciate it, Paulie. That fact that you guys did all this for me,” you motioned over your little cozy setup of pillows and blankets and snacks, “is already more than enough.”

He seemed to relax at that, his ever present smile sneaking back onto his face.

“And there’s one more thing,” he pulled out a VHS of your favourite movie, having gotten it from the video store earlier. He put it in the player under your small TV, and as the opening credits started to roll, he pulled you with him onto the bed, positioning you into his lap, your back against his chest, cuddling up to you.

“Dude, don’t hog our sweetheart,” Marko complained, already next to you and draping your legs over his lap.

Dwayne handed you a mug of hot choco before settling down on your other side, taking one of your hands in his. Not having any more room right around you, David draped himself over the foot of your bed, resting his head against one of your pillows. He didn’t mind it, the precious moments the two of you shared in the bathroom earlier satiated his need for your attention.

Not long after everyone settled, right before the movie really started to pick up, you felt Dwayne gently squeeze your hand. Glancing up at him, you already found him looking at you, his eyes filled with fondness.

“If you feel like you’re starting to sink again, just tell us,” he whispered. “We’ll be there. We will always be there.”

You heart swelled at his words, nodding that you understood. And you did. You knew that after this night, you bond with them will be even stronger, your trust even deeper, and your love even more all-consuming.

[corroded-hellfire]

Hi gorgeous a fic request idea it's my first time requesting so sorry if I'm doing it wrong! What about reader being insecure about herself and worrying she's not smart or hot enough for Eddie and it's just Eddie being confused bc how could she think that wen he's the town freak?? and then reassuring her and just lots of fluff

Ah, this is so relatable! I know I need Eddie to reassure me. Also, the only way to request wrong is by being rude and you most definitely were not 💕

Words: 1.2k

You’re not sure what caused the recent feeling of inadequacy, but you just can’t shake it. The last few weeks it feels like a storm has been rolling in bit by bit, always adding something new to the pile of things you already dislike about yourself. The little things that have always irked you in the back of your mind steadily keep making their way forward, pushing and shoving like there’s a clearance sale on your happiness and they want first dibs. 

It doesn’t matter that your grades are holding steady because you answered a question wrong in class today when the teacher called on you. You’re such an idiot. There’s a new pimple growing in like a second head near your lips. You’re so gross. The weather be damned, your hair is going to look a wreck rain or shine. You’re such a mess. The clothes the other girls wear are flattering and beautiful, making yours look like dirty dish rags in comparison. You’re such a loser. 

Despite trying your damnedest to hide how you’re feeling from the world, your boyfriend knows you too well for that. Eddie notices the way you lose focus, your attention drifting somewhere else—internally, he’s afraid. 

Your latest zone out is while the two of you are sitting on his couch, watching a movie. A part that you’ve laughed at a million times before comes on and Eddie can tell your brain hasn’t even registered what’s on screen. He keeps stealing glances at you from the corner of his eye, growing more concerned each time. Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. 

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” You’re broken out of your stupor and meet Eddie’s gaze with glassy eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asks, concern etched deep into his brow.

“What do you mean?” You know your attempt at playing dumb won’t work either—on top of everything else, you’re a shit actress too. 

“You’ve seemed sad lately. Kind of…distant,” Eddie says, taking care to choose his words carefully. He doesn’t want you to feel as if he’s interrogating you but wants to convey his genuine worry and concern.  

Shame floods your body as you realize Eddie has noticed your change lately. Just another thing for you to feel bad about. You shift awkwardly, moving out from under Eddie’s arm, where you were nestled comfortably. 

“N-Nothing’s wrong.”

Eddie gives you a disbelieving look. You can’t blame him; that was some pretty shitty bluffing.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, “you think I don’t know you well enough to tell when something’s wrong? When you’re lying?”

“You do,” you admit, voice low and soft. 

It’s a mutual instinct, though, as you can read Eddie just as well. The sadness in his eyes cracks your heart in two, knowing you’re what’s causing it. 

“Talk to me,” Eddie says, taking one of your hands. He holds your hand in both of his and gently massages it. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, trying to avoid his eyes. “I just feel…off lately.”

“How so?”

Embarrassment grows inside of you, blooming like a flower—or maybe a weed. It’s hard for you to bring yourself to tell Eddie the truth–it just makes you feel even more pathetic than you already are. There’s no use trying to keep it from him any longer, though. 

“Like I’m not…enough.”

“Enough? Enough of what?” Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion as he keeps rubbing his thumbs along the back of your hands. 

“Well, enough for you,” you admit as you feel your cheeks burn with the humiliation that the truth brings.

“Me?” Eddie’s eyebrows pinch together, and he shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”

You breathe out a defeated sigh that breaks Eddie’s heart and take your hand from his grasp. 

“I see all the other girls,” you say, anger creeping into your tone. Not anger at Eddie or at the other girls; anger at yourself for being so inferior. “They’re so pretty and smart and I can’t help but wonder why you want to be with me.”

Every word you say confuses and shocks Eddie even further.

“You…huh?” Eddie says, mind not able to comprehend what’s going on. In his mind, there is not a single dimension or alternate reality where you aren’t enough for him. It’s simply not possible. 

“I’m not hot enough for you,” you say with a sniffle and a shrug. “Or smart enough. Or nice enough, or funny enough—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Eddie says, waving his hands in front of him. “You’re not serious, are you?”

The look on your face and the tears about to spill from your eyes when you look at him tell him that you are, though. Eddie can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle and shake his head.

Your brow furrows at his laughter and a tear escapes your eye and makes its way down your cheek. Panic flashes in Eddie’s eyes when he sees your reaction and he’s quick to remedy the situation. 

“Oh, no, no!” he says. His hands come up to cup your face and his thumb wipes away your rogue tear. “I don’t think it’s funny. Well, in a way I kind of do. You think you’re not enough for me? Sweetheart, you really have no idea how amazing you are, do you?” When your only reply is another sniffle, Eddie sighs. “I don’t understand how you could think that,” he says. “You do know you’re dating the town freak, right?”

“But you’re not,” you insist defiantly. 

“And you’re not all those mean things you think about yourself.” He lets his hands fall down to your lap and takes your smaller ones in his. “Babe, you’re so insanely hot I can’t even believe you noticed me.”

Eddie chuckles and squeezes your hands. “And aren’t you the one always helping me with homework? Don’t I always get better grades when you help me?”

Eddie sighs and leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. You’re both quiet for a few moments. Eddie lets his eyes slip closed for a second before looking at you once again.  

“I hate that you’ve been feeling so down about yourself. I wish you saw yourself like I do. You’d see that you’re the most beautiful, wonderful woman in the world. Who is smart, who is kind, who is funny, who is everything she tells herself she’s not.” He leans in and presses a soft, sweet kiss against your lips. “I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world,” he tells you.

“I love you, too,” you reply in a whisper, tear tracks staining your cheeks. 

“Now, look at me,” Eddie says. He sits up straight and looks you in the eye.

“I am,” you say in a small voice.

“Am I lying?”

You know him so well, know when he’s telling even the slightest fib. But there’s no sign of that in Eddie’s eyes nor on his face at all. 

“No,” you admit.

“Come here,” Eddie says with a sigh, opening his arms for you.

Immediately you fall into them and nuzzle your face against his shirt. It’s your safe place; everything is always better when your head is on Eddie’s chest.

“Promise you’ll tell me when you have these thoughts, yeah?” he asks and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “And I’ll remind you that they’re not true. That you’re my gorgeous, brilliant girl. Promise me?”

“I promise,” you say, tilting your head up to look him in the eye.

He kisses your lips a few times, punctuating the message of his words. 

“You're my favorite,” he whispers against your mouth as you part. 

“Favorite what?”

“Everything.”

[calliesmemes]

YET ANOTHER ROUNDUP OF ASOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to be a bit silly <333

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

❛ I am not merely a clown; I’m the entire damn circus! ❜

❛ I will bite you if you continue this behavior. ❜

❛ Being a dramatic ass bitch isn’t a personality trait; it’s a lifestyle! ❜

❛ Trauma? Oh … you mean, my lore? ❜

❛ why must I cite sources? is it not enough to just say ‘trust me, bro’? ❜

��� sorry for being a perfect sweetie and a genius it will likely happen again. ❜

❛ forget about touching grass; I need to touch WATER I NEED TO GO INTO THE OCEAN I NEED TO DIVE INTO THE SEA!!! ❜

❛ I’m attracted to men with muppet energy and no i will not be explaining. ❜

❛ you want me to make friends with people? the thing that killed julius caesar? ❜

❛ what’s your birthstone? mine is rock bottom. ❜

❛ I absolutely hate that I’m not bioluminescent. Pathetic. ❜

❛ ohhhhh my god i have got to stop mourning the past or whatever. ❜

❛ you expect me to act like a normal human being? I’m wearing a turtleneck! ❜

❛ i don’t struggle with same sex attraction I’m actually very good at it. ❜

❛ unfortunately i often find out without even getting the chance to fuck around. ❜

❛ I’m bisexual which means that I’m attracted to anybody who can defeat me in physical combat. ❜

❛ all anyone needs to know about me is that i’m a dumbass and i love women. ❜

❛ sorry but philosophers aren’t impressive i came up with stuff like that when i was 12. ❜

❛ I pay my own bills; I can cuss all I want! ❜

❛ I don’t have rizz; I have sad eyes and a weird presence. ❜

❛ my demons are chasing me and they’re doing the Naruto run. ❜

❛ honey we are ALL doomed by the narrative. it's not that serious. have some fun with it. ❜

❛ dating me is like interviewing a psych ward patient. ❜

❛ being a girl with very large brown eyes comes with great responsibility. ❜

❛ i’m autistic in ways that you can’t even begin to imagine. ❜

❛ being a loser may be a phase to you but its a lifestyle for me. ❜

❛ entering a magical portal in the woods would fix me. ❜

❛ I’m lonely but not in a hot mysterious way; more like in a pathetic way. ❜

❛ life is so unserious just say womp womp and move on! ❜

❛ you’re vibing? In this economy? ❜

❛ just because I’m small doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass. ❜

❛ my primary motivators are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ❜

❛ sorry about the chaos; I needed attention. ❜

❛ WHAT IS UP GIRL you look foreboding and malicious! ❜

❛ baby i can be your problematic bi wife. ❜

❛ i don’t think any of you understand how important i am to the plot. ❜

❛ what if we are both red flags? what then? ❜

❛ any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ❜

❛ my hobbies include being right, being gay, and being a hater. ❜

❛ i have a phd in Loving The Color Pink And Also Glitter. ❜

❛ being a menace to society is a full time job and I am dedicated. ❜

❛ my life has been a bouquet of oopsie daisies. ❜

❛ i survive on spite, anxiety, and blasphemy. ❜

❛ if you’re not obsessed with me, why would I wanna be with you? ❜

❛ the hottest thing a man can be is a little afraid of me. ❜

❛ my love language is being a hater. ❜

❛ i don’t get enough credit for acting far less insane than i actually am. ❜

❛ the A in my name stands for always right. ❜

❛ Jesus is my homeboy but God has a lot to answer for and I will continue to be rebellious until he does so. ❜

❛ I’ll see a man with long hair and then remember that I’m not above temptations of the flesh. ❜

❛ i’m going to be honest with you I’m not going to be honest with you. ❜

❛ stop asking me if I’m ok I’ll literally make out with you. ❜

❛ part of my masculine charm is that I’m literally insane. ❜

❛ are you sure those are demons bro? or are they consequences from the choices you made? ❜

❛ i do not identify as a boy or a girl. i identify as a nuisance, an irritant, a fool, and a problem. ❜

❛ praying on someone’s downfall isn’t enough i need to participate in it. ❜

❛ we all need to chill. i won’t do it first but it’s something i noticed. ❜

❛ not to sound like a Victorian woman suffering from hysteria but going to the sea would fix me. ❜

❛ the silly goose convention called; they asked if you could be their keynote speaker. ❜

❛ i deserve unrestricted access to old castles and old churches i want to know all the secrets. ❜

❛ doesn’t matter if you’re cringe or based we’re all just here to suffer. ❜

❛ I’m no longer comedic relief I’m now serious panic. ❜

❛ this is getting difficult to romanticize. ❜

❛ done healing my inner child. next up is my inner teen. her highness needs a sword. ❜

❛ i am God’s silliest experiment. ❜

❛ i’m very vulnerable right now if anyone wants to take advantage of me. ❜

❛ sorry i overshared do you still think im hot? ❜

❛ I can yap for days and still maintain my air of mystery. ❜

❛ good luck sending me mixed signals; I don’t even understand normal ones. ❜

❛ not all of your life decisions have to be smart. some can be purely for cinematic value. ❜

[synthetickitsune]

omg i woke up and saw your post about requests and came running!! you alr know i need all the angst in my life so can i please req dk + come back to me if he hurts you” 🥺🫶🏻

thx for helping me realize i write mostly angst for sunshine boy and continuing the tradition 🫶🏻 akjddsk

DK (SVT) | “Come back to me if he hurts you.” angst | 0.7k | gn!reader

He stares at you, processing. It feels - well, there’s no way to put how it feels. His chest is hollow. He has no parallel to draw, so he just… stares.

The information shouldn’t come as a surprise. He’s heard through the grapevine that you began dating again. Honestly, should he even care? He does. But should he? Does he have any right to care? The split was amicable, mutual. Friendly even. You’re friends still. You seem happy. He’s genuinely happy that you are happy, so why…

“Seok? Are you alright?” your panicked voice and slowly approaching hand make him wake up and flinch away. He feels his face soften from whatever grimace he was making upon seeing your hurt expression.

“Sorry, yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m alright. Uh, so things are good, yeah?”

He tries hard to ignore your face morphing into a mask of indifference.

“Yeah, things are good,” you repeat.

The silence that follows is awkward and stretches on. He wants to break it but he has no idea how.

“This was a mistake, wasn’t it?” you laugh, but it sounds empty as you hide your face in your hands, “I don’t know why I told you.”

“Hey,” he protests way too quickly and his hand immediately shoots to your shoulder, and he pulls it back just as quickly. You turn towards him and frown. It’s unusual to see him so serious. “I want you to tell me. You’re my friend.”

Your smile is sad. He hates it.

“We’re more than that, Min,” you sigh. It’s quiet again and he’s just as helpless.

“I guess I want to tell you everything - would that be cruel?” you meet his eyes again, but all he sees is the anxious way you fidget with a loose thread on your pants, “I guess I just want to know if you think we’ll work out. You’re the one who’d be the best judge of that.”

“I’m the worst one to be the judge of that,” he corrects you, his voice slipping into his comedic persona easily, “Seeing how things turned out.”

You do laugh and some of the unpleasant feelings lift off his shoulders. He doesn’t know what would be the best or most appropriate thing to say next. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel. All he knows is he has to start talking or this will be very pathetic very soon.

“I’m really happy for you, sorry,” he smiles, blinking away some of the moisture in his eyes, “I don’t know why this-” he motions vaguely to his face, “Happened.”

You chuckle, but looking at you, your eyes are wet too. 

“I get it,” you nod, “I’m so scared it’ll end wrong again.”

He sighs. As if he didn’t know the feeling intimately well. 

“Did-” he stops himself before he can finish, thinking better of it, but you push for it anyway. “Did I do something? Something so bad it makes you afraid now?”

“Oh god, Min, no,” you rush to reassure him and end up grabbing his hand in both of yours. You bite your lit. This isn’t exactly how you expected the talk to go. “If anything you loved me too well. So I’m afraid I won’t feel love like that again. Or that I’ll fuck up and lose it.”

“You couldn’t ever fuck up like that,” he laughs - the idea alone is so ridiculous, “Because you’re the kind of person nobody would want to lose.”

You shake your head, leaning into him with a laugh. He’s warm against your side. It feels comfortable. Comfortable like it used to feel even before you dated, like it did when you were together too. You missed being this comfortable with Seokmin after the breakup. 

Things change, but maybe they don’t need to be all that different. You have too much history to let go. And all of it is good - as much as humanly possible.

“Come back to me if he hurts you,” he outstretches his pinky to you. You huff, but there’s a wobbly grin on your face anyway when you promise with your own.

“You got it, Min.”

[endlessmuse]

after all this time

‘I didn’t,’ he trailed ‘I didn’t think you’d call me back.’

There was a long pause, one filled with tension and unsaid words and memories and love, and sadness. Jude’s eyes met yours, then quickly averted, almost as if it never happened. What should you say? I’d always call you back? No, too desperate. I missed you? Too vulnerable.

‘I wasn’t planning on it.’ you finally settled, your defensive nature creeping out in full force. You fiddled with the bottom edge of your top, nerves seeping out from every pore of your body. It was pathetic, really – it had been a whole year.

His breathing was uneven, reaching your ears in shaky little huffs and puffs – so unlike the Jude everyone sees. The confident, cocky, charming Jude was left at the door. Inside your apartment was the Jude you were well acquainted with: the one that sat next to you in history class, that tugged on the back of your hair in school assembly, that asked you out on your first date. The one that cried as you broke up last October.

‘Right. I’m sorry. Had everything planned out, and like, I weren’t expecting you’d invite me round. And I have so much to say, so much I’ve wanted to say. I just – I don’t know where to start.’

This was new. Over the five years you’d been together you’d seen him in many situations. But this – nervous, rambling, on edge – this was new. It was making you even more nervous. He was always the calming presence you needed, but with him like this, you felt like a child again, anxious, afraid of everything and anything. It wasn’t meant to be like this.

‘I figured it would be easier if we spoke in person.’ You told him. You wondered if that was actually true, or if you just wanted to see him again, in your space again. You suppose you’ve told yourself that lie so many times – that you didn’t care for seeing him – that you almost believed yourself. Almost. He gave a hum of acknowledgment, perhaps waiting for you to elaborate, but you didn’t know how.

The silence was deafening and you couldn’t bare it anymore. Abruptly standing, you reach for the door to the kitchen. ‘I- I need a drink. You want anything?’ You ask him. You cringe at the words stumbling and stuttering out of your mouth. You hear your words dripping with nerves, and you knew he saw right through you. How you were just avoiding the conversation.

‘Yeah, um, water’s fine. Please. Thanks.’ He tells you. As you leave the living room, you hear Jude release a deep sigh, one which had clearly been weighing him down for a while.

God what was wrong with you. It’s Jude. You know him. He knows you. Get it together. You weren’t sure why he wanted to talk. The pair of you had been together since you were both 15, both practically joined at the hip. You’d grown used to often being long distance, creating schedules of visits, FaceTime date nights, and when he left for Dortmund, you even found yourself an internship there for a year. But Madrid changed everything.

You always knew how intense his schedule was, but this was a new calibre of busy. And with you graduating with your PhD at just 20, one of the youngest in your field, you were thrown into a completely new life. Albeit the life you always wanted.

You both tried. You’d both visit every other week, he’d come to you, you’d go to him. whatever worked. Until it didn’t. And sometimes hours would turn into days, and the days would turn to nights, and the next thing you knew you hadn’t really spoken to him in a week. You both saw it coming. 4 months into his move to Madrid, the relationship you once had was no longer there. But you didn’t know what more there was to say.

You reach for a glass in the cupboard, a cheap attempt at distracting yourself from the bitter memory of the last time he was in your home. He’d held you as you cried into his chest, his own tears dampening the top of your head.

You almost pour orange juice in the glass, eyes glancing to the cupboard with the bottle of tequila stored next to the Weetabix and granola. You settle on the orange juice. You’d been in here too long, and he knew it too.

‘She’s finally back,’ the familiar tone returning. ‘Thought you got lost.’

You rolled your eyes. ‘Glad you haven’t lost that sense of humour.’ You smiled for the first time that evening. It felt good. Too good. You hated how he made you feel like that 15-year-old girl again, how no one else could ever come close to making you feel like that. You guys broke up, mutually, but it still hurt. You never really moved on. How could you? You’d just shoved thoughts of him somewhere deep inside, only for late nights with too much wine or bad days at work.

Your body was itching. Your skin felt hot, and your clothes felt too tight. You needed to lie down.

He took a sip of water. He looked shifty, eyes darting from wall to wall, picture frame to picture frame, as if discovering some foreign, unknown territory. His mouth moved as if to say something, but he closed it.

Why was here? What’s taking him so long to spit it out? Should you say something? No, he was here first. God why are you so stubborn. You should just tell him to go, that you have work in the -

‘I miss you.’

Oh. Okay.

A breath of relief escapes him, but as he looked at you properly for the first time since last year, regret settled into his expression. You shifted in your spot, hands on top of each other, arms crossed, back to hands on top of each other. You decide to stand.

‘Say something.’ He pleaded, his voice a whisper that you only caught because you were paying attention to every detail. ‘Please?’

Get it together. You took in a few deep breaths, processing what you’d just heard. You’d grown used to being alone. Thoughts of Jude were for late, lonely nights. You never considered this – him back in your house.

It was scary. Scary how you were having such a visceral reaction to him here. Your palms felt clammy, and your mouth felt dry.

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Right. It’s okay.’ He cleared his throat, setting his water down. ‘I should probably go.’ He stood awkwardly and took a few steps towards the door.

‘Wait. I didn’t mean – don’t leave.’

He stood by the door, waiting for you to continue. He looked tired, like he’d just ran a marathon. You probably didn’t look much better.

‘I miss you too.’ You apparently found the courage to admit the truth, to yourself and to him. His eyes seemed to light up, not noticeable, not unless you were looking for it. He didn’t say anything, and so you took it as a push for you to reply. ‘I just. I’m scared. I guess I waited for you to call, for so long, and you never did. And so, I thought you never would. I figured you were doing good. Without me. And like I found ways to go on with my life and stuff, but like, I felt stupid for missing you. Because I didn’t know if you did.’

It was one of those nights then, full of too many truths and too much vulnerability. You felt sick, tired from all the words, both said and unsaid. You looked at him, he looked so handsomely deep in thought. You felt stupid for going on so much, regretting every single word, the longer he took to respond.

He took a single step closer to you, closing the distance. The room suddenly felt so much smaller.

‘You seriously think that? That I was fine without you? That I didn’t miss you? I thought about you every day. Every single time something good happened the only person I wanted to tell was you. It never felt right. None of it. Not without you.’ He reached out, held both your wrists with his hands.

You shuddered a little at the touch, having not been this close to him in so long. It felt as if everything you’d done this past year had led to this moment. His thumbs swiped across your wrists, so, so gently. And with that, everything you had pushed into one teeny tiny box had just sprung out.

‘All I thought of was you. All I’ve ever wanted is you.’ he continued.

You withdrew your arms from his grasp, forcing both of yourselves to reality. ‘But nothing’s changed. We’re in the exact same position as last year, and I can’t go through that again.’

‘I know that. Neither can I. But I can’t live without you. I’ll make this work. For both of us. So long as you want this too.’ The last part sounded like a question. He seems to have regained his usual confidence, sounding more and more sure of himself.

You’d never been one to take risks. You liked to plan everything, finding a certain charm in normality and routine. You craved it. And so, what you wanted to say, what you probably should have said, wasn’t what you said.

‘I want this. More than anything Jude.’

He gave you his first proper smile of the night, the familiar glint in his eyes returning. He took a moment to look at you, to really look at you again, and you felt your legs turn to jelly. How is it that after years of knowing him, he still has this effect on you? You felt the jigsaw puzzle that was your life slowly slotting itself together, and you almost felt confident that things were going to be okay. Sure, you were hesitant, but that was your nature.

‘I’m glad. I think I would have died if you didn’t.’

‘Bit dramatic, don't you think?’

Jude’s hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your cheekbone so softly, it felt like a memory of his touch. The two of you stood there in silence, just breathing, his eyes never leaving yours, as though he was committing every detail to memory. For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was something so comforting in the quiet.

He broke the silence first, his voice barely a murmur. “When I said I thought about you every day, I meant it. I’d be halfway to the stadium or on the plane, and my mind would drift to you. I wanted you, every single time. And I knew it was too late… but that didn’t stop me thinking of you.”

You shifted, feeling the dull ache in your chest intensify, not because you doubted him but because you believed him. And you’d spent so long trying to convince yourself that he hadn’t been thinking of you at all, that maybe it had been easier for him. The reality was harsher: you’d both been carrying this weight, alone, pretending you were fine without each other.

After a moment, you lifted your chin and whispered, “I want this. More than anything. But let’s take it slow, okay? We need to figure this out together. No rushing back in like nothing happened.”

A soft smile crept onto Jude’s lips, and he nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Slow. Whatever you need. I’m here.” And for the first time since he’d walked into your apartment, a calm settled between you both. You didn’t know what the future held, but for now, you had this — a promise, a fresh start.

The air was different. It felt lighter. He took your hands in his, properly this time, and in the quiet of your apartment, everything felt right again.

————————————————————————

I don’t know what this is. It’s really bad I’ll probably delete soon. It has not been proofread. Also I don’t know how to use tenses. I was bored. Sorry

[iitsarss]

╰ㅤ₊ㅤ๋࣭ㅤreader x gr13f3r　 sorry　᠀

ꔛ word count: 684⠀╱⠀unestablished relationship + player reader 。

(¬_¬")⠀⠀⠀note,more on the end ⠀╱⠀tw: mention of sword + violence (MENTION!!)

hi guys my name is ars and today i came back with the milk!! i love this stupid dude sm im not joking i want him so bad...this is...angst...kinda....,,anyways sighh if i had this guy in front of me i would do things i cant say out loud(worship himgrrr) inspired by this song(idk how to put the little one sorryyyy :( )

The Venomshank in his hand was slipping as Griefer stared at you, a whirlwind of emotions crashing through him. How could he even think about doing this? Was he completely out of his mind? Maybe. Maybe his dad was right when he told him to stop everything just minutes before. Stop the chaos. Stop all of this.

Griefer couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. You looked absolutely stunning, even with a sword pointed at his throat. Strange, wasn’t it? How he could find beauty in this moment of tension and heartbreak.

Finally, the Venomshank clattered to the floor, the sound hollow as it echoed in the room, just as the tears started to form in his eyes. He was a jerk, wasn’t he? He had to be. The look in your eyes—it was different now. The first time he saw you, there was something there. Strength, maybe? Bravery? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it back then. But now? Now your eyes were filled with pity, with sadness. And it killed him inside. 

Maybe it was because those butterflies he felt in his stomach the first time he laid eyes on you weren’t just in his head. He had tried to tell himself it was the voices whispering in his mind, telling him to destroy everything—to destroy you. Break your bones, break your spirit, break you entirely. But could he? He didn’t think he could. No, not anymore. Not with these unfamiliar emotions flooding through him. His sword lay forgotten on the ground, and soon enough, he was on his knees too, crumbling in front of you, lost in the depth of your eyes. He sobbed, and it was pathetic—he felt pathetic.

Still, he crawled toward you, his movements slow, almost hesitant. His trembling hands reached out, grabbing hold of your clothes like a lifeline. His fingers clutched the fabric, his tears soaking through as he began to cry even harder.

"I’M S0RR7… I’M S0RR7…"

Griefer’s voice broke as he repeated the words over and over like a broken record. He wanted to apologize for everything he had done, for all the pain he caused. You deserved that much. His tears soaked into your clothes, and he didn’t even notice when you slowly got down on your knees and wrapped your arms around him. 

He cried harder, burying his face in your neck, his hands still clutching at you as if he were afraid you’d disappear. 

"I'M S0RR7… F0R EVE7YTH1NG… I’M S0RR7, I’M S0RR7…"

But something in him began to calm down as your hands moved through his hair, gently stroking it, soothing him. You whispered that it was alright, and though he wasn’t sure if he could believe it, with you telling him so gently, he started to think—maybe it really was. His heart felt strange, warm in a way that was foreign to him.

When you gently pulled back to look at him, he tried to hide his face in embarrassment, but you wouldn’t let him. You took his cheeks in your hands and gazed into his eyes. And just like that, the pity he feared seeing wasn’t there. Instead, it was something warm, something tender that he didn’t fully understand.

…

When it was all over—after so much crying from both him and his dad—you were preparing to leave, taking the Venomshank with you. Griefer watched you as you moved toward the door, your back to him. He wasn’t sure why, but something inside him panicked at the thought of you walking away. 

Summoning the last bit of courage he had, he moved toward you and gently took your hand. When you turned to face him, the sunlight spilling in through the window made you look almost ethereal, more radiant than ever in his eyes. 

"S0RR7," he whispered one more time, his voice soft but sincere.

You comforted him again, offering a few more words of reassurance. He stood there, staring at you as if you were the light itself, realizing that no matter how bright the sun was, it couldn’t compare to the way you made him feel.

kisses him anyways!! uh this is shit tbh but yeah i love him a lot

[barrenclan]

HI i just finished reading the comic and it's so so incredible!!!! your art is gorgeous and your work with the story is completely unmatched <3

I've been listening to the song Butcher Vanity by Vane Lily a lot and it strikes me as a Deepdark song!

Thank you! I'm so glad you like the comic. I agree, Deepdark's desire to kill and eat and never stop consuming is what defines him. I'll use the chance to share a PMV by my pal Katti, the creator of The Exiled comic who made a really excellent PMV with the song :)

I think someone else had the same idea as well, it looks like it's already been suggested before :) but yes it does fit very well! Any song about a land/town/etc that's been cursed and rotten forever works great.

Tell me now of the very soul that look alike, look alike Do you know the stranglehold covering their eyes? If I call on every soul in the land, on the moon Tell me if I'll ever know a blessing in disguise

The curse ruled from the underground, down by the shore And their hope grew with a hunger to live unlike before

I never knew this song was from the Justice League movie?? Wow, that's wild. It is a good song for PATFW as a whole.

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows the war is over Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixed The poor stay poor, the rich get rich That's how it goes Everybody knows

I have! In fact, the song "Hellfire" is the character theme song for Cootstorm. I made a drawing of it awhile ago.

Did you know that in fact someone made an animated video with Rainhaze to this very song? It's really cool, you should check it out!

Yeah, it's pretty Rainhaze! Especially in his post-Asphodelpaw murder manic phase.

If you knew what I knew, if you saw what I see You’d look through illusions, hallucinations, and lucid dream And I know that meaning can be such a pretty thing to keep But I got facts and I’m not afraid to use ‘em, take the good with the bad, take off the back you make a new front Some days I'm glad that I am a madman and I’d rather be that than An amicable animal, mild-mannered cannibal

Aww wait :(

Looks like the cat did a number on you Vienna, oh He took a brick off the side of the stoop Poor vienna It'll be over soon Your mamas waiting for ya But you're not coming home

Your mamas been so worried Cause you never came home Beneath the ground you're buried In memoriam

Yes I think it could be! Even more, I think it's exemplary of Deepdark's general charisma and desire to recruit people into Defiance, reminiscent of his speech from Issue 28.

You and me should go outside And beat 'em, beat 'em, beat 'em, beat 'em, beat 'em All pathetic flag waving ignorant geeks And we'll eat 'em, eat 'em, eat 'em, eat 'em, eat 'em

Come join the cause, come join the cause Who wants to come with me and come join the cause? Hide in the sky, hide in the sky Who wants to come with me and hide in the sky?

Oh, my mom loves this album, I grew up listening to it. This does remind me a bit of them, how sweet and sad.

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes Let them know you realize that life goes fast It's hard to make the good things last You realize the sun doesn't go down It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Do you realize That you have the most beautiful face? Do you realize?

What a unique take on their relationship! I do like the theme of Ranger guiding Rainhaze's hand, and the parent-child energy is very interesting for them. Interesting take on Mordred, for that matter.

Guileless Son, I'll shape your belief And you'll always know that your father's a thief And you won't understand the cause of your grief But you'll always follow the voices beneath

Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty only to me

[writermask-0807]

vlad tepes dracula x reader {“love me soft, and love me slow.”}

A/N: im a puddle of goo for sad vlad and this is the product of that. ngl, im honestly actually proud of this fic and wow isn't that new?? (the world must be ending) anyways I hope yall enjoy!!

Warnings: ooc vlad, uhhh pining, sort of, and angst?? but with a happy ending (?), so dont worry! just my poor bby grieving ig (he deserves better 😭)

He doesn’t know how to say it.

It doesn’t matter how long he’s thought of it, how long the words have been lingering, just on the tip of his tongue, only half a kiss away from being confessed against your mouth, his fingers tangled in your hair- a raw, vulnerable permanence to whatever - whatever this is, whatever this he has with you.

He doesn’t dare to call it love, although it is what it is- love in the curve of your lips and the shine of your eyes; soft, tender love in the gentleness of your hands when you hold him, love, tender and soft in your brushing kisses and your pretty smiles, etched deep into the ancient floors and walls of his castle, a place warmed once more by your presence and your love, a place he can call home once more.

It’s love, and he’s sure the both of you know it is, but -

Vlad Tepes Dracula does not know how to tell you he loves you, and he’s not even sure if he wants to—and he doesn’t want to admit it, because then it will mean that it’s real, that this is actually happening—because he’s afraid. No amount of denying will take it back, not when the truth is so terrifyingly, blatantly obvious, a laughing mockery in his face.

Love has not been kind to him. He had loved Lisa, true and with all of his heart (or what was left anyway), and it had torn him apart, it had unraveled him at the seams and it had left him wounded and bleeding. It had left an empty, bloodied cavern in his chest, and it had bruised him black and blue with anger and grief. Love has not been kind to him, and yet here he is again, afraid of it and yet so deeply, desperately, pathetically in love anyway.

It’s almost laughable- how far the great Vlad Tepes Dracula, King of Vampires, has fallen from grace, but here he is, finding something suspiciously like happiness in that endearing way you laugh, in the way it makes your eyes crease at the corners like half-moons, your dimples curving.

Starlight gleams on your skin and the color of your eyes when you open them, lashes fluttering, feeling his gaze, and you’re so achingly beautiful like this—the midnight breeze in your hair, the moonlight shimmering on your skin, the gentle lilt of your laughter, and that soft, tender love in your eyes—and all he wants to do is cradle you close, hold you to his chest and tell you that the heart inside, as broken and black and withered as it is, beats for you and you only, and he longs for it so much that the very thought of anything else aches.

“Vlad, are you alright?” you ask, leaning in, concern in your frown as you peer searchingly at him, a delicate hand coming to cup his cheek; and this close he can smell the sweetness of your scent of lavender and cinnamon, see the galaxies of stars in your wide, beautiful eyes, feel the softness of your skin if he chooses to reach out.

And he does, curls an arm around your waist and steals a kiss, achingly tender and soft, reveling in the way you melt unthinkingly into it, into him - and he should really tell you to be careful, that he could hurt you - he’s selfish. Always has been, and with you around, he thinks he always will be.

“I’m fine, dearest. Just thinking.” He breathes into your hair, presses a kiss to your temple, cradling you close, and there must be some somber quality to his voice, or maybe it’s the mournful sigh that accompanies his words that does it, but he thinks you know, in that moment - he thinks you understand in the way you soften into his embrace, arms winding around his neck and pulling him closer—if even possible—into your warmth.

“It’s okay, you know. We’re gonna be okay.”

You murmur in his ear, leaving a soft kiss to the side of his jaw, before you tuck your head in the crook of his neck, and god, he loves you. He just can’t say it yet. And despite the tears that pearl in the corners of his eyes, he thinks that that’s okay. He’s bruised black and blue by a burnt out anger and resignation and grief, and he needs time to heal but you understand and it’s okay. There’s nothing more he can ask for, and while love hasn’t been kind to him, Vlad thinks another chance is worth it if it means having you in his arms like this again.

FIN-

[discount-shades]

Contract Spouse Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Crashing

A/N: So Chapter 8 was split into two chapters. The series will be 10 chapters long so I am getting close to being done writing! 

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning:  Angst,  

Length: 2400 ish

Summary: Pip makes a decision about her relationship with Jake, and Jake’s feelings regarding spinach are revealed. 

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You had pizza for dinner, and you hadn’t made cookies. Jake had tried to convince you to watch a movie together but you couldn’t do nothing. The anxiety embedded in you from your childhood would not let go. 

Logically you knew Jake was nothing like your parents. He had said multiple times he was not mad at you, nothing about his actions indicated he was upset with you in any way, but you could not let it go. You hadn’t felt like this in years. The urge to smooth things over and make it better consumed you and you couldn’t shake it.

When Jake had been unable to convince you to stop he had joined you, turning the Bluetooth speaker on to Texas country. He helped wash the few dishes from dinner, humming along to the song playing. He vacuumed the area rugs while you swept. Whatever you did he was there assisting.

He finally catches your wrist as you start to reorganize the drawers in the bathroom. “Pip it's after midnight.” You stare at the hand on your wrist. His grip is gentle, thumb gently caressing the inside of your wrist. “The house is clean and it's time for bed.” 

You finally look at him and his eyes are soft, worry lingering in them. He backs up and gently tugs on your hand and you follow him. Your heart clenches at the hopeful smile and the relief on his face. He had been shooting you worried looks all night and you can see the tension leave him. You change in the bathroom, your room still under repairs from the water damage.

When you reach the bedroom Jake is still hovering by the side of the bed. “Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” 

“No Jake, it's ok.” You crawl under the covers and pat the spot beside you, feeling ashamed by your behavior all night. “I’m sorry for tonight. You shouldn’t have cleaned too. It's a ‘me problem’.”

Jake hits the light and plunges the room into darkness. You feel the bed dip as he lies down beside you. “Well you weren't stopping and I figured it would be more efficient if I helped you clean.” Your lips twitch at his words as the bed shifts. You can tell he is facing you on his side and you turn to mirror him. “You kinda freaked me out today.”

“I'm sorry,” you whisper, feeling even worse.

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” Jake's hands slide across the space between you. His fingers brush against yours and slowly tangle together like he is waiting for you to pull away. He brings your fingers to his lips and gently kisses your knuckles as traitorous butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I want you to tell me what happened. You were so upset then you were so blank and it scared me.”

“I don’t know.” You lie, unsure of what else you can say. “The interview kinda got to me.”  You couldn't explain the way your brain panicked after you pushed him and there is no way you would explain why you were mad. You wouldn’t tell him that when he called you Darlin’, your heart broke. That you were sad he didn’t love you like you loved him. It made you feel pathetic. 

It felt like the story of your life, loving and wanting to be loved by people who didn’t love you back. At least Jake was better than your parents, even though in the end he would probably hurt you worse.

“Just promise me you won’t leave me.” Jake's voice is strained in a way you have never heard before. “I don’t think I can do this without you.”

“Do what without me?” Your voice drops further, afraid that if you spoke too loudly it would break the fragile thread between you.

“Life, existing, I don’t know.” He pauses like he is searching for words. “Pip, I love you.” You fight to keep your breathing steady at his words, wishing there was some kind of light so you could see his face. He has said it before, but tonight, in the dark, he sounds different. Your heart beat increases as hope fills you. “You know me, and even after the divorce I need to know you will be in my corner. I need to know I’ll still be able to call you.  You’ll always be my best friend.”

At his final words the spark that had filled your chest dies. “Yeah Jake,” you agree, keeping your voice steady. “I’ll always be there for you.” At your words he pulls you into his arms and you go. 

Legs tangled together and his arms around you, you lie there trying to drift off, knowing Jake won’t sleep until you do. That his brain won’t let him rest if there is someone else awake in the room. Another way you know Jake like no one else does. Unwilling to move away and unable to deny yourself the intimacy you crave, you stay. After all, this is all you are ever going to get.

– – – 

You awake the next morning feeling overwhelmingly warm. Jake’s chest is pressed against your spine, his nose tucked against you and his breaths flutter the hairs at the nape of your neck. 

It’s too hot and you want to move but you don’t. Judging by the light filtering in through the curtains Jake’s alarm will go off soon and he will leave you then. It’s a Saturday so you have the day off but Jake has a training flight. 

When the alarm finally rings you wait for the inevitable loss of warmth but Jake just reaches over and turns it off before wrapping himself back around you and nuzzling into your neck, raising goosebumps. 

“How did you sleep?” you break the spell of the peaceful morning with your words. Jake hums and rolls onto his back, you shift with him so you are propped against his side but he doesn’t leave like before. 

“Good,” he tells you, “really good actually.” You smile at his admission and toss the covers off so your body can feel cool air and Jake copies you. He asks you about your plans for the day and you lie together talking about everything and nothing like you used to on the phone. 

It’s you who leaves the bed first to start the coffee and part of you feels more relaxed after your lazy morning. It had been nice to lie next to Jake and talk about your day but it made you realize what you truly wanted. You had been so caught up in your unrequited feelings for Jake that you had never taken a moment to think of what you were looking for in a relationship. And despite everything you feel for Jake you realize that while he might love you, he wasn't in love with you, and it was no longer enough. You decide it’s finally time to start letting go of your love. 

– – – 

When you look at your ringing phone and see Javy’s contact information you frown. You had spoken to the man a few times over the years but he had never contacted you for a  social call.

“Javy? What's up?” Your stomach clenches when you answer the phone.

“Hey Pip,” Javy’s voice is strained. “There's been an accident, Jake crash landed in the desert.”

“Is he ok?” you hate how small your voice sounds. 

“They’re taking him to the hospital. I’ll meet you there. Wives are allowed.” He says the last part pointedly and you know that he is hinting that as Jake's wife, you are expected to be there.

“Yeah, of course.” You would have gone to the hospital even if you weren't married to Jake. “Text me the hospital and I will meet you there.”

Traffic seems to slow the closer you get to the hospital. You can’t stop nervously tapping the steering wheel of the used Rav4 you had bought the week after moving. Your mind catastrophizes everything that might happen. Jake is paralyzed, there’s internal bleeding, traumatic brain injury. Jake dies. 

When you are able to park you sprint to the front desk. “Lieutenant Jake Seresin, he's a pilot, where is he?”

The nurse gives you a compassionate, yet reserved look. “May I ask your relationship to the patient?”

“I’m his wife.” The words fall from your lips easily. They are words you have barely spoken in all your years of marriage and have become increasingly common the last few months. 

She directs you to a different floor and when you arrive you see Javy, still in his flight suit, broad shoulders tense, pacing the waiting room. When he sees you he wraps you into a hug. “He’s in surgery,” he says, releasing you. At your look of horror he amends. “It’s for his wrist, he fractured it, probably has a concussion, but he's going to be ok.”

You sag in relief and collapse into a chair letting out a shuddering breath. You stare at your hands and notice for the first time that they are shaking. You squeeze them together until your knuckles turn white, trying to hide the trembling from Javy when he sits down beside you. You take deep breaths and slowly the shaking stops. 

“He’d be happy you are here,” Javy says and you smile. 

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you say with a tight smile. “What happened? How did he crash?”

“There was some sort of electrical malfunction, he couldn't make it back to the tarmac so he landed in the desert.” You wince thinking about it and Javy continues. “He broke his landing gear off the plane so he must have hit pretty hard.” You nod and sit in silence, waiting. 

“He’s gotten worse.” Javy says in a low murmur, breaking the silence. You are sitting in the corner of the nearly empty waiting room but he still glances around. “After the last mission, I don’t know, he’s different, on edge, even before the investigations. I don’t think he’s sleeping.”

“He’s not.” you say before amending, “At least not well.” 

Javy sighs and you give his hand a squeeze and stare at the door to the operating rooms together. The two people who looked out for Jake while he looked out for everyone else. “He’s gotten better too.” 

You look at Javy frowning, “how?”

“After the last mission, I dunno, it humbled him.“ Javy shrugs. “Made him more of a team player, less closed off. Less of an ass.” You smile. In the few times you had met Javy he had always made jokes about how you were too nice for Jake, but you never saw it. He was never an asshole around you. “You’re good for him.”

The grin on your face turns bitter. “Spinach is good for you too, so is exercise.” 

“What’s your point?” Javy is frowning at you and though you feel guilty for bringing it up with Jake in surgery, you are so emotionally drained over the last two days that your walls are down. 

You have hid your feelings for Jake away for so long it is second nature. There has never been anyone you can tell. And there is still something stopping you from outright bearing your soul to Javy. 

“I’m not going to be someone's spinach forever,” you say following the analogy. “I want to be the gooey chocolate chip cookie that you want because it makes you happy and the bad days better, not the spinach that you keep eating because it is good for you.”

Javy is silent beside you and you begin to spin the ring around your finger again. You have no idea if Javy caught on to what you were trying not to say and a part of you is past caring. Eventually Javy breaks the silence, “Jake likes spinach, and exercise.”

You sigh sadly, “I know he does.”

– – – 

When Jake is out of surgery you and Javy both get to see him. He is groggy and doesn’t do much more than mumble hello before the doctors advise him to sleep. Javy sits with you a while before a nurse insists that only one of you can stay. Javy leaves you with a hug and you curl up into the chair next to Jake’s bed.

Part of you regrets your promise from last night, that you would never leave him. You wouldn’t for good, but after the divorce you would need to go away for a while. You are staring out the window when you hear Jake's scratchy voice. “I thought I dreamed you were here with Javy.”

You pour some water into a cup and hold the straw for him. His one arm is in a cast and the other has an IV. You hit the call button the nurse had told you to press when he woke up. 

“I’m glad you stayed.” His voice is less scratchy and still heavy with sleep, but there is a little smile tugging on his lips. 

“I’m your wife, of course I'm here.” You smile at his groggy expression and gently squeeze his hand 

“No, I want you here for me.” His smile drops, “it's not fair, but I do.” The nurse and doctor come in and you step back to let them work, mulling over Jake's words.

They keep Jake in the hospital a few days and you call out of work so you can sit with him. Mostly he sleeps but when he is awake you talk about the little things, Javy’s upcoming wedding, the house repairs, but never anything to do with your relationship. You are sitting next to Jake when Cyclone arrives. Jake goes to shift his posture and the man waves him off. 

“Are you his wife?” You frown at the brusque question but nod. “Do you intend to stay married to him?” You nod again and Jake squeezes your hand. You glance at Jake, unnerved.

“Well in that case, Lieutenant Seresin I am ordering you to attend marriage counseling every two weeks for six months, with your wife.” He drops a list of counselors on the foot of the bed. “After that, and you are cleared medically, you can fly again. If you are quick about it, most of your time in counseling will coincide with your recovery.” 

Your jaw drops and Jake nods. “You’re getting off light on this Seresin. Mess around again with another vindictive woman and it won’t go well for you.” 

“Yes, Sir,” Jake salutes from his bed and Cyclone leaves just as abruptly as he entered. 

“I think he just strengthened our case.” Jake says.

[ghostgirl-22]

Bet we’d have really good

18+ Explicit !NSFW!

Day 15: One night stand

—————————————————-

“I think you’re my best friend,” Art says, his blue eyes watery. He’s drunk enough right now. Patrick wont answer his calls. You don’t know much about it, but you’d met Patrick enough times and seen how they were together to know it’s a pretty big deal. You’ve known Art for three years at Stanford, had a crush on him for the last two. In that time you’ve never seen him cry.

If you could even call this crying and not him drinking himself sick on jäger bombs. So much so you end up being the one to get him back safely to the dorm. He’s in your bedroom now because he really didn’t want to be alone. “I’m sure he’s just busy.” You attempt to console him. “You said he’s on tour right? I’ve heard it’s crazy. Maybe he’ll get in touch later?”

“No, he hates me. He fucking hates me.” Art smiles, the tears drop and he doesn’t bother to wipe them away this time. “I fucked up.”

“How?” You’re certain he’s over thinking it all. Until he tells you the story. He thinks maybe Patrick couldn’t forgive him for taking Tashi’s side when she got injured.

“i wanted him to fuck off, but I didn’t mean forever.” Art hiccups. “His mom said she’d tell him to call. He’s not gonna call. And Tashi…she… she still misses him. I fucked up so bad.”

You chew your bottom lip. He looks so distraught and honestly you feel terrible for him. In the back of your mind though you do wonder if he’s in love with Patrick. “You know what, rest, sleep it off you drank a lot.” You say gently. “You can take my bed, I’ll sleep in the common room. My dorm mates are out of town anyway.” You sit up and he reaches for you.

“Please, please. Can you stay?” He sniffles.

“Stay?” You ask, it’s an extra long bed but it’s still a single. He holds your hand, playing with your perfectly manicured finger nails and looks up at you with a sad smile before kissing the back of your palm. You watch him as he holds on to you.

“I really want you to,” he says softly, pulling you closer to him. You hesitate just a bit. You like him but you’re both drunk and he’s emotional. It could be a disaster. Ruin your friendship.

But he’s got you onto his lap now… and he’s rubbing your bare thighs. You’re so weak for adorable pathetic men. You’re thankful you decided to wear panties out tonight, though it’s not helping much. You can already feel his cock just behind the zipper of his jeans. You wonder how long he’s been hard, wonder if he got hard telling you about Patrick.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly because he knows you feel it.

“It’s okay,” you whisper gently, you cradle his cheek as you say it and he sits up leaning in so you can kiss him. God he’s a good kisser. Your friendship is so fucking over. He’s kissing you normally and then a minute later he’s kissing like you’re keeping him alive, his tongue rolling back and forth in your mouth. You lift his t-shirt off. His body is so incredible, you’ve touched yourself thinking about how he looked pulling his t-shirt off lounging on the court after an intense summer practice. It’s even better up close.

“God, you’re so hot,” he breathes, clearly he’s impressed by your body too. You feel his fingertips work their way into your panties and suddenly he’s fingering your pussy. Kissing you till it aches. You’re so wet you’re afraid he’s gonna freak out but he just dips his fingers deeper in. You’re rolling your hips and coming before he even breaks the kiss.

“Fuck,” you breathe helplessly.

He licks his finger tips. “I like how you taste.” As pathetic as he seemed you can tell now that he’s not as innocent as he comes off. He’s probably so experienced, knows how to use it, not like your ex who was just all around pathetic.

His cock is nearly tenting the fabric of his jeans, you reach for his zipper. You want to fucking feel it.

“Do you have any condoms?” He asks eagerly.

“Yeah.” You grab one from your nightstand and he puts it on expertly. Then he’s fucking into you before you even take your panties off. Pushing them to the side so his cock can enter. Like he’s desperate, like he needed this so fucking bad. Like he’s wanted this all fucking night. It feels so good, nice and full… you feel your clit swelling, your stomach going crazy and you’re coming again moaning as he bounces you on his lap.

It’s crazy, you think mindlessly, this crying boy might end up fucking you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your life. He’s still hard. He flips your positions when you slow, down sort of sated with orgasm. He pulls your panties off and eases the straps of your dress down off your shoulders. He starts nibbling at your breasts, still fucking into you. You feel yourself building again. He’s going so deep and the way he’s sucking on your breasts like he’s in utter bliss has your toes curling up, your body tensing. It tickles all over and you’re both moaning. You’re actually relieved your dorm mates aren’t home. They already think you love sex too much.

You’re nearing your third orgasm, one more and he’ll beat the record you’ve had in one session. His cock is still so hard which is insane and you’ve got your fingers tangled in his hair as he’s licking, sucking at your nipples. So much so they’re tender. You fall overboard again and he barely breaks pace as you begin moaning because you’re a little too sensitive.

”Fuck, it feels so good,” you cry in his ear hoping he’ll never stop.

“Mm, it’s so hard to come when I’m…” he breathes in your ear, pushing you harder. “I miss him so much.”

“Fuck, what do you need me to do, baby?” You gasp. You’re starting to build again. You didn’t know you could take this much and you’re kinda proud of yourself.

”You wish I was him?” You ask, in his ear.

He groans. Picking up his pace. Hes starting to slip in and out so easily. You’re cunt is so fucking wet at this point.

“Or maybe you wish I was his ex girlfriend. That you could fuck her the way he fucked her.”

“Fuck,” he gasps. You’d giggle if you weren’t also this close to coming again, instead you moan.

“Mm maybe you wish he could fuck you the way he fucked her,” you breathe. “Maybe you dreamt of taking her place, instead of just touching yourself while you listened to them fuck.”

That pushes him over, but you’re losing it too. Both of you gasping into each other. He runs shaky fingers over your face and kisses you. Your pussy is so sore but it feels amazing. He falls onto your bare chest when he’s done, you’re both in a disheveled state of dress but you’re both so exhausted you end up falling asleep on each other just like that. You cradling him in your arms.

When you wake up early needing to pee unsurprisingly he’s gone.

You don’t feel bad. It was the best fucking sex of your life so far and when you spot him hanging out with Tashi in the cafeteria the next morning you can’t help but smirk because you clocked him. He smiles back, flushing sheepishly. Tashi looks between you two, her face inquisitive but she seems to shrug it off and so do you. You’re happy to be one of his little secrets.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Thunder (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer reminds Reader that they aren’t alone. Request: comfort fic where reader gets unspecific upsetting news and tries to brave through it on her own but spencer finds out and helps her through it + a fic based on “The Fixer” by Brent Morgan. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Angst/Comfort Content Warning: Storms, crying, trauma/upsetting news (unspecified) Word Count: 800

MASTERLIST

The thunder comes the same as waves on a rocky shore. Each flash of light is followed by a deafening roar that seems to swallow half the earth. Nature’s rage comes, with crackling wind and spitting rain.

Spencer finds you standing still in your office. You sense someone, but he says nothing. You know it’s him, though.

“When I was younger, I used to be so scared of thunderstorms,” you tell him. “I’ve gotten used to them as I’ve gotten older, but sometimes…”

You gaze upon the scene unfolding before you. Stubborn trees are bent and spent leaves fight against sheets of rain. You watch what feels like the end of the world and it makes your heart break.

“Sometimes I look out at the destruction, and I can’t help but wonder if we’re supposed to be scared,” you whisper with a wavering voice, “Maybe it is divine retribution. Maybe the children are right to be afraid.”

Spencer stays silent for a moment following the troubled monologue. He stands, steeped in the sadness before he takes a step forward and shuts the door.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

“Oh, you know. Things… happen. They come and they go,” you shrug.

He takes another step forward. If you had anywhere to retreat, you would have. But you are stuck between two equally terrifying options: the storm and the calm that follows it.

“That’s true,” he offers, “but it’s not what I asked.”

You wipe remnants of tears from damp cheeks as you stumble over a response.

“Sorry, what was the question?”

“Are you alright?” he asks again.

It is as terrifying a question as it’s always been.

“Oh, yeah. Yes. I’m fine,” you assure him.  “I’ve always been fine, and I don’t plan on letting that change any time soon.”

But your breath is shaky, and he knows you’re lying.

Again, you try to explain, “I’ve been through worse things than this.”

“What is ‘this’?” he asks.

Your shoulders rise to your ears. You wrap your arms impossibly tighter around yourself. Nails dig into wrinkled fabric that is starting to feel too hot yet not enough to shield you from kind eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” you laugh solemnly, “It’ll pass, like everything else.”

“It matters to me,” he says.

A flash of lightning rips apart the landscape at the same time you turn with violence on your tongue.

“Stop!” you shout.

The thunder follows. Its rage drowns out the sound of your whimpering cry that immediately follows.

“Please… just stop.”

“Stop what?” he asks with another step closer.

You don’t move away. Through the thick glass, you feel the chill of frozen rain as it clicks against the window.

Your answer is small and said with chattering teeth.

“Stop… caring about me like this,” you mumble. It sounds so pathetic, but you can’t make it more beautiful. Instead, you let the words pour from your mouth while your arms struggle to hold a broken heart together. “You have to stop, because, eventually, I’m going to let you down, and I can’t handle letting you down.”

Spencer lifts a hand towards you. He tries to call your name, but you flinch and jump away.

“Please, Spencer. Just… Just leave.”

For a moment, you think he will. You hear his feet shuffle and close your eyes and wait for him to leave the way they always do.

You hold your breath and wait for the lightning, but it doesn’t come.

Instead, it’s his hands resting against your arms.

“I can’t do that,” he says as he holds back his own tears. “And I’m really sorry, but I can’t. I can’t leave you alone because I know how bad it’ll hurt you if I do.”

With almost no pressure, his hands add weight that breaks through the barrier. Your arms fall limp at your side but he holds onto you, anyway.

“I can’t leave because I know exactly how much it hurts when the only time people listen to you is when you tell them to leave.”

You shake your head.

“I can’t…” you start, but the words get caught in his arms as he throws them around you.

“I can’t do this,” you cry against soft cotton that smells like home.

“It’s okay,” he assures you.

It is terrifying and comforting all at once. Your tears fall like heavy rain and your wails crackle like lightning against something, someone who can bear witness to the storm without wincing.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers as the storm clouds start to pass.

“You’re safe,” he promises, “I’m here.”

You collapse against him, and he holds you harder than he ever has before. He hums something gentle, and the words don’t feel like strikes.

Together, unhidden, you wait out the storm.

In that moment, you find a new appreciation for what once felt like the end of the world.

Because even the clouds eventually empty.

Even the thunder eventually fades.

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