#he's charming! he's suave he looks innocent he looks pretty

[jikoku-a]

a meta on ... ezreal and photographs.

ezreal takes a lot of pictures. like ... a LOT of pictures. his photos app is nearly 75% of his phone's storage but he never backs up any of them. he's got a whole lot of photos: pictures of whatever he's eating, pictures of friends, pictures of stupid little squirrels and asshole birds and whatever else he wants to capture. some memes that he laughs at for way too long and accidental screenshots he got too lazy to delete.

his entire gallery is half his face and half everything else. it's not necessarily for vanity purposes ( though it certainly comes off that way, and sometimes it is because he's handsome and he knows it ) but rather for social media. he's very wrapped up in whatever's happening online and knows how important it all is to success in the entertainment business, and he makes sure to capture his best angles to keep fans interested. if there's ever a day he's not looking his best, he's got a backlog of content to post.

he also takes a LOT of shameless thirst traps. aside from the more tasteful, subtle ones, these don't ever go on social media. they just sort of sit on his phone and he'll look back on them later for fun. sometimes he's just feeling himself and taking a picture in moments where he looks good makes him feel good ! and sometimes, he just needs to feel good.

beyond pictures of himself, he has a lot of pictures of his friends. everything from group selfies to candid shots of them looking nice to candid shots of them looking ... not so nice. he's very proactive in taking pictures of others, the type to do a whole photoshoot for tourists who just asked for one group shot ! if you're unfortunate enough to pass by while he's taking selfies he'll definitely pull you in to take some with him.

[nyctoaerah]

⋆♱⋆BRAINROTTING ABOUT...

Content warnings: Tiny bit of Enemies to Lovers, Royalty Au, Yandere Behaviors, Manipulation, Arranged marriage, Explicit smut, Edging, Masturbation (M), PIV, Overstimulation, Perv! Sugu, Belly bulge. Dubcon if you squint. Mdni.

Pairings: Yandere! Crowned Prince! Suguru Geto x Fem! Reader.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 first found you on your empire’s garden, knees scraped and elbows muddy, with your clothes full of dirt and mud sweat dripping all over your body as you enthusiastically chases after frogs in your garden like it was a full-time job during his visit with his parents on your kingdom.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 was absolutely gobsmacked when he found out that you were his supposedly fiancee—because he half-expected a more sophisticated girl to be his future bride, and not some girl who looked like she had just escaped from a mental asylum.

 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 was mortified at the thought of having someone like you as his bride. After all, How could he possibly stand being linked with that looks like they’ve never heard of soap or a scrub brush in their life? He is but a clean freak after all.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 found himself being hauled off to your room for some forced quality time together. but when he reluctantly entered, and his eyes fell upon you, he realized that you actually looked pretty cute when you're not covered in dirt.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 who had a grin plastered on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he adopted a suave tone while he converses with you, showering you with compliments that are actually backhanded because he initially thought that you’re dumb and wouldn't caught on his insinuations.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 whose face transformed from smug confidence to sheer disbelief the moment your clever retort landed. The realization that you had caught onto his sly comments hit him like a ton of bricks, and he realized that perhaps, he had underestimated your wit, but who could blame him? Most women would have fallen for his seemingly charming facade without a second thought.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 had a small tick appear in his eye as your insults began to sting, but his smile remained plastered on his face throughout the heated exchange—albeit it was tight lipped. It wasn't until a particular cutting remark slipped from your lips that his smile faltered.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 thinks that you should watch your tongue, And he began to insult you too until it eventually broke into an argument with you two just hurling petty insults that doesn't even make sense.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 found himself not wanting to cut the engagement off anymore, because he secretly thinks that it's really attractive of you to speak your own mind, even though he simultaneously hated the fact that you were speaking against him.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 secretly enjoys it when you’re playing pranks on him, finding it cute when you would feign innocence.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 started to fall for you after some months and he finds himself wanting to get rid of that shitty attitude of yours and just mold you into his cute little obedient wife instead of being a mouthy lil’ brat.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 gets irritated time he caught sight of you engaging in conversation with a knight, or any man for that matter with a kind look in your face—and a polite way of speaking. The sight of you smiling to another man was enough to make him green with envy , for he, after all, was meant to be your betrothed and your smile should only be reserved for him, and him alone.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would shower you with gifts and various tokens of affection in an attempt to win you over, and practically forcing your lady-in-waiting to discreetly share your likes and dislikes with him.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 found himself slowly getting obsessed with the way you treat him, and his infatuation only deepened when you began to gradually warmed up to him, exchanging the habitual scowl for a gentle smile whenever he would visit.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would watch in amusement as you climb on a tree even though you were wearing a dress, and even encourages you to do so, instead of stopping you because he enjoys seeing your cute little panties.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would often found himself stealing glances at your face while you’re reading a book, admiring how flawlessly your makeup complemented your features, before his gaze lingered on your lips, imagining the sensation of them against his own, or how it would feel to have those pretty lips wrapped around his cock.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 gradually became more tactile with you as time goes by—planting delicate kisses trailing along the curve of your neck, the soft skin of your shoulders, but never on your lips because he wants to see you get needy for him. He would find his lower lip caught in his lips whenever he noticed the way you unconsciously squeezed your thighs together in response to his flirtatious gestures, fantasizing about how much he wanted you to suffocate him with those pretty thighs.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would touch and edge himself at the thought of you, he would would stroke himself, imagining it was your hands on him instead while he watches the way his pretty pink tip, glisten from the way it’s leaking precum. He’d trace the prominent veins on his dick, watching as it would twitch eagerly in his grip. He would fuck his fist most of time, but stopping just when he was about to cum, because he wants you to make him cum instead.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would pull you onto his lap, his strong arms encircling your waist as he buried his face in your neck. His lips would press heated kisses along the skin of your neck, his grip firm as he held you close to his chest while ignoring your feeble protests, and paying no mind to your futile smacks on his head or the curses that fell from your lips.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would comfort you whenever you find out that your friends and the servants that you’re pretty close with have gone missing for some unknown reasons. he would hug you close to him and comfort you, while secretly enjoying the sound of your soft sobs, knowing damn well that he’s the reason why your friends are missing in the first place.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 gets aroused by the sight of your tears. yet, it also ignited a simmering annoyance deep in his gut. Why the fuck were you still crying over those missing friends of yours? He had removed them from your life for a damn good reason — they were nothing but trouble, probably talking shit about you behind your back. And who wouldn’t, really? You were far from the picture-perfect princess type, too real and raw for their shallow asses. He was just doing you a favor yet you’re crying for them. He would wrap his strong arms around you, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured sweet nothings, all the while planting poisonous seeds of doubt in your mind about your friends — talking sugarcoated shit about them and manipulating you into believing that they’re bad people.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 couldn’t stand to see those beautiful eyes of yours clouded with tears any longer. So, he took matters into his own hands, or rather, his lips. He crushed his mouth to yours, a desperate move to distract you from your sorrow. At first, you froze, your eyes widening in surprise, but as he deepened the kiss, you found yourself responding. Your soft lips parted slightly, and he took the opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue. A low, guttural moan escaped his throat as he felt you begin to kiss him back, your hands tentatively rising to rest on his chest. It was supposed to be innocent, a comforting gesture, but his body had other ideas. And as the kiss intensified, he could feel his cock stirring.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 pulls you onto his lap, his grope forceful and eager and you can feel his cock through the thin fabric of your panties as he grinds his bulge against your crotch.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 ended up pressing your face into the soft, cotton sheets, his hips snapping forward roughly as he fucked into your overstimulated cunt, fucking the stress and sorrow out of you

“Come on, baby, just a little more,” Suguru breathed, his hot breath tickling your ear as he pulled you close, his hand tight on your neck, his free hand slid down your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your breasts, and pressed on the small bulge on your tummy, moaning at the sight.

“mm.. fuck, d’ya feel me in there, pretty?” He rasped before his hand went lower and teased your puffy clit with feather-light touches, making you squirm and whimper pathetically as he continued to fuck your overstimulated cunt.

“Haah.. you’re prettier when you’re crying tears of pleasure instead of tears of sorrow... so fuckin’ perfect, my pretty wife...”

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

𝐀/𝐍: i got lazy on the plot and just went straight for the smut.. ugh, this is probably the most filthiest shit that i have done omg, crying rn bcs i’ll never be able to face my friends after this, probably.... The parasites have gotten into me😭😭 IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT! @terrorbladewho

PLEASE MY MOOTS, DON’T EVER SAY SOMETHING ABT THIS OR TALK A SINGLE WORD ABT THIS SHIT!!🥺🥺🙏🏻🙏🏻 THIS WAS REQUESTED AND THE PARASITES HV GOTTEN INTO ME

[sadhours]

the diner - part one

billy hargrove x fem!reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, stalking, murder, toxic relationship, trauma, hallucinations, flayed!billy, peeping Tom, masturbation briefly mentioned, horror

He survived. Somehow— someway. Billy survived. Took care of what he should have so long ago. But that monster lingers, still alive within him.

You’re an innocent girl who works next door to him and he can’t help himself. Could you help him or is he too sick?

read on ao3

part two

Rain slips down, leaving clean streaks across the scum splattered front window of the shop. It’s deep into the evening, town’s asleep except for the truck stop directly next door. Bright lights illuminating the gas pumps, convenience store and the 50’s style diner. The one you work at.

And in the darkness of Route One Garage, Billy stands at the window. Watching. Eyes following as your hair bobs up and down with your steps as you run around the diner. Taking orders, filling coffee cups, carrying hot plates of greasy food made on grills cleaned less often than the health department wants. He’s eaten there, knows you can taste the filth in the food. But it’s the only place to get food this late for miles. The place is full of truckers, different faces but they might as well be the same copy of a person. In and out all day long. Billy’s seen the way they talk to you, been witness to it and just sat there with his blood boiling. Didn’t do anything about it because he’s a pussy and also, because you don’t know him. Sure, he comes in semi-regularly but he doesn’t really talk to you. He can’t for some reason. But before he moved to this teeny, shithole of a place, Billy wasn’t like this. He could talk to any woman. You didn’t look at him like most women did, though.

He watches you like this almost every night. Every night you’re there. Fantasizes about the things he wants to do to you. Sometimes those things are questionable, violent even but sometimes they’re just fantasies of talking to you— making you fall in love.

But he did something that woke up these dark demons deep in him. Well, two things.

Billy still has visions of the shape shifting monster. Haunts his dreams. Recalls each time he led an innocent person to the monster. Regretted not leading his father to the monster. So when he crawled out of the slimy, pulsing portal. He found his dad. Did what he’d always been too weak to do. Billy wonders if that monster still possesses him. If there’s still some of those black, gunky slugs in his stomach. Puked them up for weeks, it felt like.

But he’s thousands of miles from Hawkins. Though it feels like part of him is still contaminated. Made him reclusive, awkward, scarred up. Maybe that’s why he’s scared to talk to you. He knows he doesn’t look like he used to. His hair’s longer, his eyes are darker, his body has starfish shaped scars patterned all over. That charm has been evacuated. He’s not as suave.

Obsessive. That’s how he is now and he knows it but he can’t stop himself.

Billy knows where you work, he knows what you drive and he knows where you live. He has the name of your boss, your parents and your ex boyfriend. He’s followed you to the dive bar in town, walked around the general store and kept his eye on you and the things you buy. He’s full blown stalking you. It’s not his fault, though. That monster gave him this sickness and this town gave him loneliness. A recipe for disaster.

And you’re just so fucking pretty. The way your face lights up when you smile stains his eyes when he closes them. If he focuses hard enough he can hear your voice. Same script over and over.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Shop busy, today?”

“Usual tonight?”

“Coffee, eggs over easy, hash browns , extra bacon and sausage, right?”

“Want some more coffee?”

“Anything else tonight? Maybe some apple pie?”

“Ya sure? It’s really good apple pie, I promise.”

“I’ll just get your check, then.”

Sometimes Billy can finish when he’s thinking about those words. Which is sick and he knows that but he feels like he can’t help himself. Wonders what you think of him. You’re not a bitch or anything but you don’t ever look at him like girls used to look at him. Nothing like the moms laid out by the pool. Not like you think he’s good looking but like he’s any other face you see. Which infuriates him but makes him sad about himself more than anything. Occasionally he looks at himself in the mirror until he feels sick. Until he sees his dad. Tells himself he needs a haircut, needs to shave the mustache. Sleep more so he can lose the bags under his eyes. Maybe you’d look at him differently.

The lights flicker, buzz loud enough he can hear it in the shop. He leaves. Locks up the place and his boots take him to the diner. To the same booth he always sits in. Lights up a smoke and meets your eyes from across the place. You don’t flush the way girls used to. In fact, Billy can’t register any kind of reaction on your face. So he flicks his ash on the floor because you’ll have to sweep it up and it feels like he won. Won what? He doesn’t really know, but he wants you to clean up his mess. Gives him some kind of satisfaction.

The script starts when you walk up. A variation of it.

“Late tonight,” you say, filling up his coffee cup without asking. “Must be busy.”

“Sure,” he says. Always keeps it short because you don’t meet his eyes and he can’t meet yours. Instead he stares at your hands, pretty fingers wrapped around the carafe’s handle.

You walk away. To put the coffee away he guesses. Stares at the mug, wraps his own fingers around it and takes a careful sip. His eyes find you behind the counter, giving a look of disdain to your coworker who said something and then you grin. Laugh at whatever she said to you. Then you’re back at his booth and his eyes fall to the table as the script resumes.

“Usual?”

“Yeah.”

“Eggs over easy, hash browns, extra bacon and sausage,” you recite from memory and Billy gets a bit of satisfaction from it. Proud of you for some reason.

“You remember,” he says, low and steady.

You scoff and chuckle, the sound makes his thighs tighten and you say, “Kind of hard to forget it. You’ve never changed it.”

Bold for some reason, he replies, “Maybe I should.”

“We do have a whole six pages on that menu. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you open it, though,” you offer and this is new. It’s off script. Both you and him.

Billy smirks, flips open the menu and peers down at the first page. It’s greasy, a stain of sticky jam at the top left corner and he immediately catches a typo. He purses his lips and continues to flick through it. You pull the notepad from your apron but he’s too nervous to look up at your face. He flips another page and then, finally, looks up at your face.

“What do you like?”

You look shocked. He likes that.

“Uh,” you laugh, a soft little sound and Billy’s skin is hot. “Our patty melt is pretty damn good.”

He closes the menu, slides to the end of the table as he replies, “I’ll have that then.”

“Wow, you’re full of surprises tonight,” you quip, “Fries or potato salad.”

“Why don’t you give me a surprise,” Billy says and then looks away because you’re too fucking gorgeous and he’s on a roll. Kind of feels like his old self right now and looking at you would fuck that up.

You pick up the menu and laugh again, “Sure thing.”

You walk away and he takes a hit of his neglected cigarette, ash falling to the table as he does so. Another mess of his for you to clean. Makes his whole body tingle at the thought. You don’t check on him before his food is done. But Billy keeps checking on you, eyes bouncing up to follow you as you work. Finishes his cigarette and coffee. Takes in the uniform you’re in. The big, bold name on the pin clasped into your blouse.

When you bring his food, you ask, “Got anymore surprises for me tonight?” and his mind runs wild. Sick fantasies. Ideas that make him feel guilty and the charm he’d felt after years slips far, far away.

“No.”

But you say, “Good. Don’t wanna overwhelm me too much.”

You fill his coffee again and walk away. Then he eats and the script resumes as normal. He pays. Sits in his car until all the lights in the diner shut off. Watches you walk to your car, waits a beat after you drive off before he starts his car and follows you. To your house. Keeps waiting until you go inside to park behind your car on the street and watch the numerous lights flick on and off. Aiding in him as he imagines exactly how your night plays out. He thinks you go into the kitchen first. Maybe you get a drink, perhaps a beer. When he’s followed you to the bar, he’s seen you drink beer. Then that lights flicks off and the TV turns on. Can see the variety of brightness and colors through the window. He thinks of what you might watch. Imagines sitting on the couch with you, cuddled up. His thoughts get perverted quickly and before he knows it, he’s staring at your window with his dick in his hand with the fantasy of your mouth on him.

After he finishes, he’s still watching. Until the changing lights of the TV go black and a different light turns on. Bathroom. That window is small. You brush your teeth, maybe wash your face. He takes this time to get out of his car, walk to the window on the side of the house, crouch down and peer through the broken blinds. Your bedroom. You turn the light on, back to the bathroom to turn that light off and return. Close your door and undress. You sleep nude but you keep a robe next to your bed. You flick off the light. Sink into bed and Billy stays for a while. Until he knows you’re asleep. He thinks about sneaking inside but he hasn’t gathered the gusto to do so yet. The whole watching you through the window is new enough. But he’ll escalate soon. Won’t be able to help himself.

Then Billy goes home. Back to his shady little apartment. Falls asleep on the couch with infomercials playing on the TV. He’ll wake up and do the same thing again tomorrow.

—

Dark tendrils wrap around his wrists and ankles. Pull him in opposite directions. His eyes are wide open but his body feels paralyzed. He tries to scream but it’s gargled and there’s a monster limb attaching to his mouth, pulsing down his throat. Fills his belly with baby slugs. The sticky limb retreats him and the constraints on his ankles and wrists unravel and he’s shaking. Thrashing. Screaming. Crying. Pleading.

Then Billy’s awake, sits up straight and pants. Looks around his room and there’s nothing there. Just him and the mess of his belongings. He cries. Then he showers. Makes himself vomit and he sees no slugs. No sludge. Just the dinner and foamy beers he had. Billy showers, water so hot it burns— turns his skin patchy red and tingly. He vomits again. Watches the sick circle the drain. Cries some more. Feels the loneliest he’s ever been. Wonders why he can’t kill himself. Why he doesn’t have the strength to do that.

He’s up too early. Doesn’t work for another three hours. Billy paces his apartment. Chain smokes and pounds coffee. He briefly thinks of Maxine. Stalks over to his freezer and reaches in it for the bottle of vodka he keeps in there and guzzles some of it down. Drowns out Max. Maybe he should make sure you get to work safe. He has to do something. Anything.

The drive to your house is routine, but he doesn’t often do it in daylight. Can’t risk you seeing him, so Billy parks a couple houses down. Chain smokes while he waits and soon enough, you’re walking to your car.

[bakugotrashpanda]

Hawks x F!Reader Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I feel rusty af with my writing right now. Also reader is lowkey @kweenkatsuki coded :3

!!: sex, talk of having kids

Hawks is normally suave and charming… except for when you’re around.

It started so innocently.

Ding! The elevator door opens and Keigo watches as a tall stack of boxes labeled Bedroom wobbles precariously. 

“Careful now!” he says and swoops in to grab the top two before they topple off. “If you need help moving in, all you have to do is-” The last word dies in his throat. He can barely make out the top of your face peering over the rest of your boxes, but your eyes have already captivated his.

“Thanks for catching that,” you laugh. God your laugh is beautiful. “I don’t want to take any more of your time though.”

Keigo shrugs and smiles wryly. “If I don’t have time to help a pretty woman, then I’ve been slacking at my job.” He adjusts the boxes in his hands and takes another from your pile. Stepping to the side, he lets you lead the way.

“You might’ve seen me on TV before,” he says smoothly, “But don’t feel you have to call me Hawks. We’re neighbors now, call me Keigo.”

“Alright, Keigo,” you laugh, “I’m in unit 902.” Keigo’s heart skips a beat. Literal neighbors. He stares at his corner apartment, unit 903, not even four yards away. You fumble with the keys and he can make out a collection of keychains. There’s got to be something he can use here to keep the conversation going.

“You like raccoons?” he asks lamely. It was the first thing out of his mouth. What if it was a gift? Something you didn’t actually like but kept for sentimentality? Wincing, he scrambles for a plan of how to salvage this.

“Y’know that video of a raccoon accidentally putting cotton candy in water and then looking all confused about it?” you keep walking to the back of the apartment, your voice bouncing off the empty walls.

“Yeah, I’ve seen that once or twice.” Most of your major furniture is moved in, and your bedroom is no exception. The headboard rests against the shared wall with Keigo’s apartment. 

“It makes me cry,” you say, “Every single time.” There’s no hint of a smile, no ‘gotcha’ moment, just pure seriousness.

“Every time?” Keigo laughs and sets the boxes down.

“Every. Damn. Time.”

“There’s no way.”

“Pull it up right now and I’ll be in tears.” There’s something in your eyes, a challenge? Goading? He likes it. Someone who, for once, isn’t trying to suck up to him because he’s a pro hero. Not that he wouldn’t mind you suck-

He all but shouts the first thing that comes to his mind to end that line of thought. “The walls are thick, so you and your boyfriend don’t have to worry about being heard.” 

Smooth. Real smooth. 

“Funny, I don’t have a boyfriend. But I do have a phone number, and you should let me know when you’re free so you can show this new girl around town.” You pull a marker out of one of your pockets and write it on the palm of his hand. Damn. Here you are, pulling out all the stops, and he can’t get his fucking foot out of his mouth.

“If we’re exchanging things, you should have one of these.” His wings rustle and a feather darts out and hovers in front of you.

“A feather?” you ask and pluck it out of the air. Warm. Rolling the quill between your thumb and forefinger, Keigo watches you inspect the small red feather.

“It’s linked to me, so if you’re ever in trouble, just –” A shiver runs down his spine, and it takes all his willpower not to physically respond. Your finger runs along the edge of the feathers. So light and curious, but fuck all Keigo wants is your hands running along his – 

No.

That’s only because you’re doing it right now and it feels good. You’re neighbors. There’s no way he can think of you as anything other than a friend. For fuck’s sake, you haven’t even moved in properly.

“Just stroke it,” Keigo finally chokes out “I’ll feel it.” Your finger freezes. A ghost of a smile passes over your lips.

You clear your throat. “I’ll make sure to put this in a safe place.”

As Keigo closes his front door, there’s a soft click to his left as you also leave yours. “Morning, Keigo,” you call out to him.

“Hey, Chickadee,” he chuckles. Not even a week in and almost every morning the two of you happened to leave at the same time. It must be fate – if fate is another word for Keigo listening for the jingle of your keys and telltale singing as you get ready to start your day.

“Off to work?”

“Another day making sure everyone stays safe.” Keigo tucks his keys in his pocket and turns to see you standing by the elevator in a yellow sundress. He lets out a low whistle and lifts his glasses to see you in all your glory. The skirt hit your midthigh, and while the top had thick straps, the sweetheart neckline drew his eyes to your chest – and based on your smirk, you knew exactly how you looked in it. “Where’s a pretty lady such as yourself heading?”

“This really cute guy showed me a cafe a while ago, and there happens to be a bookstore rather close to it. I figured I’d get a book and a coffee and enjoy the sunshine,” you shrugged. “Oh c’mon Keigo, it was you. Like I’d let just anyone show me around.” Apparently he hadn’t been able to conceal his frown at your mention of a ‘really cute guy’. 

But his feathers stayed ruffled the rest of the day. You were on his mind so much that Keigo made blunders at work. You had him tongue tied and jokes with coworkers came out punchline first. Paperwork didn’t get done. The fastest man alive slowed down for a little bit. 

When he got home, he decided to call it an early night and catch up on some much-needed sleep. Maybe that was the problem, not that he couldn’t shake your dazzling smile or infectious laugh, but maybe he was simply sleep deprived. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

But even sleep is hard to get when his mind keeps drifting. 

Mmm… Keigo lifts his head from his pillow. His wings practically vibrate with energy. A small gasp fills his mind, a hitch in the breath. He feels it deep in his chest – his blood hums from one of his links. 

Shaking away his sleep, he sits up, silk sheets falling away from his bare chest. Absentmindedly rubbing an old scar on his shoulder, he runs through all his feathers. The one at his office is fine, as are the ones with his top three sidekicks.

Oh god… just like that.

It’s none of the ones he tucked away in potential hideout locations… That leaves –

I-I’m almost… Ha- oh fuck… oh FUCK

A short scream followed by breathy panting echoes in his ears. And then it’s silent. Even the low hum of vibrations that initially woke him up. 

That… was you. Right next door. Did you realize he could hear everything? Probably not. You said you were keeping his feather in a safe place, and what safer place than the bedroom?

Keigo spent all night staring at the ceiling trying not to replay the sounds you made. Every time his mind drifted, the glorious sound of you coming would stir him and he’d find himself hard. 

He debated the ethics of jacking off to you – he hoped the ‘ethics’ part of it would be enough for his raging boner to die down. On one hand, you didn’t have to know. Ever. Does anyone really know how many people get off to the thought of them? Or hell, even him, the number two hero, how many people in the country fantasized about him? He doesn’t know. But on the other hand, what if he started getting feelings or you got a boyfriend or something?

Somehow he was able to get you off his mind and sleep.

“Do you ever think of leaving from the window of your apartment?” you ask as his door shuts. You’re waiting for the elevator, back to him. Keigo looks you up and down. Another sundress. Is this your normal clothing? Do you wear this to work? A stab of jealousy rips through him at the thought of your coworkers getting to see you like this every day and getting to hear your laugh. “Or is that not allowed?”

“Morning to you too,” Keigo says carefully. The ruffle at the end of your dress stirs as his wings flutter slightly. A good gust and - “You’re… glowing this morning.”

“Got a good night of sleep,” you grin at him. Your smile falls though, replaced with concern, when you finally look at him. “You should try it some time.” Your lips turn down, a slight pout sending pure lust to his groin.

Not now. Please, not now. Nothing like an elevator ride with a hardening dick that you will notice because that’s how his luck is.

The door dings and slides open. You walk on and turn, holding the door for him.

“Are you coming?”

If only.

“I- No I forgot something,” Keigo waves you off. “Go on ahead.”

A shower. Oh god he needs a shower.

Cold water pelts his skin, each droplet a shock to his system.

Oh god

He tries to focus on the cold, but your voice persists. It curls around his ear, teasing him, begging him.

Just like that

Keigo’s nails dig into the palm of his hand. His cock twitches as he remembers the way you moan. 

Mmm just like that

His eyes close and he can imagine you bracing yourself against the shower wall. Your ass pressed against his dick. And he wants nothing more than to slip inside you. 

Oh fuck

Keigo’s hand wraps around his shaft and he starts pumping his cock. How he wants to grab your hips and thrust into you instead of his fucking hand. Your cute panting would fill the room, and your tits. Fuck. He could leave marks on them just high enough that they’d peak over the edge of your dresses. 

I’m almost…

What if he had fucked you in the elevator? Slipped your panties down and taken you against the wall? He’d slide so easily into you. He’d leave you with a love bite to remember him by, and he’d take your panties as his own memento.

Keigo grunts and thrusts once, twice more before shooting ropes of cum. He inhales deeply and braces himself against the shower wall. All at once everything assaults his senses; the freezing temperature of the water, the sound of water hitting him and the walls before running down the drain, the whine of the bathroom vent. It’s all too much. 

Keigo wouldn’t say he’s avoiding you… but he definitely went into work earlier and stayed later than normal. Whenever he sees you all he can picture is his head between your thighs, pressing kisses into your soft skin, your hands lacing through his hair trying to get his mouth to find its target.

He barely knows you. He doesn’t even know what you do for work, if you have friends in the area, anything. 

But he’d like to know you, if only he could get his brain, dick, and heart on the same page.

His wings hum with pleasure and he searches through his feathers to see who has grabbed his attention. Again, it’s you. He’s tempted to listen in, see what has you in a good mood, but he shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Another hum. Laughter. Loud, soul filling laughter. He can’t not peek now. 

Your voice is muffled, but he’s able to make out your conversation.

“But you know who I live next to? Hawks. I get a lil eye candy on my way into the office every morning… At least when he’s not swamped with work.” He can practically see the pout on your face. “Now he’s someone I wouldn’t mind having a productive one-night stand with.”

Oh?

Blood pumps to his face and groin at the mere thought of a one-night stand with you. If he heard you scream his name, he’d instantly nut.

“Ugh, yes, the baby fever is real, but you don’t understand. He’s so fucking hot. And c’mon. We’d have cute kids.”

Oh?

“And he looks like he needs to let off a little steam. He’s so… tense nowadays. Barely get a ‘good morning’ when I do see him.” Keigo stews in your silence as your friend no doubt responds. You seemed interested, but what if it was all talk? Your laughter breaks through his thoughts. “Yeah, if he showed up at my door asking me if I wanted to bang, I would say yes, but that’s not going to happen.”

Like hell it won’t. He tears his way to his front door and yanks it open. Frantically, he pounds on your door as if you’ll take back what you said. He waits. Each second you take drives his blood pressure higher and higher.

Cautiously, you open the door. He catches a glimpse of your breathtaking eyes through the crack. Your wary scowl is replaced with a wide smile when you realize who it is.

“Hey, I gotta go. Call you later.” You end the call and shove your phone in a pocket. “What’s up?”

Keigo opens his mouth only for nothing to come out. He’s smoother than this! Where are all the one liners that come to him so naturally? Where’s the suave motherfucker who can charm the pants off anyone? Who are you and what have you done to him?

“Wanna bang?” It’s the first thing he can think of – the one line that got him out of his apartment and scrambling for yours.

Your eyes widen for a moment before narrowing. Keigo had never seen you mad before. Annoyed, sure, but never mad. But now… now he feels like a storm is brewing, and you’re the center of it all. 

“How did you know that?” you ask slowly. 

There’s no easy way to explain it. Actually, scratch that. He probably could explain it, but it’s easier to show you. For some reason, whenever he speaks around you, his words betray the cool, confident man he portrays.

The little red feather he gifted you zips through your apartment and hovers between the two of you. Glaring, you snatch the feather out of the air and stroke the edge of it. Keigo barely catches and swallows a moan. You had to know what you’re doing to him. 

“You can listen with this.” It’s not a question, but he nods regardless. “You were listening to me?!”

You’re furious with him all right and he’s in no state of mind for an argument. “I thought you knew! I thought I told you th-”

“You told me no such thing!”

“I gave it to you for emergencies!” he says desperately. You’re still stroking the feather and he’s losing control. “How do you think I’d know if you’re in trouble?”

“YOU TOLD ME TO STROKE IT!” you snap, “You never mentioned that you could hear everything!”

“I- Okay that’s on me. And I’m sorry.” He braces himself against your doorframe and exhales deeply. He is fucking this up beyond belief. “I’m sorry.” Again, with feeling. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave y-”

Soft arms wrap around his neck and tug his body against yours. Your lips are against his, a hint of strawberries subtly playing with the taste of you on his tongue. He can finally feel you, your curves, your chest against his, your perfect ass. 

“If you’ve heard everything, what took you so damn long?” you demand. Your fingers are just as demanding, pulling him into your apartment and stripping him of his shirt before shedding your own.

“You’re not angry with me?” Keigo asks as you finger his belt.

“Oh no, I’m angry,” you arch an eyebrow at him, “But you heard what I said. If you came to my door wanting to fuck, I’d say yes. I’m angry, and you better start apologizing.”

Oh.

Oh.

He can do that.

Keigo scoops you up in his arms and rushes to your bedroom. He worships you, pressing kisses over your body, lavishing you with attention. You want an apology? He’ll give you the best damn apology he can. 

He may have struggled with words, but his tongue does wonders at conveying his thoughts. He doesn’t stop until your grip on his head reluctantly relaxes and your body is shaking with release. Your chest rises and falls rapidly

“That,” you clear your throat, “That was a pretty good apology.”

“Aw, Chickadee,” Keigo gently places a kiss below your navel, then ribcage as he works his way up the bed to you. You shiver each time his lips make contact with your body, your trembling inhale music to his ears. “I’ve barely started. What did you say again? We’d have pretty cute kids?” His body hovers over yours. “We can start working on them now if you want, and besides, I haven’t done my job until you’re screaming my name.”

With a smirk, you hook your arms around his neck and pull him into a passionate kiss. “So what are you waiting for, Keigo?”

Image in banner from unsplash

[antianakin]

If you were in charge of the Star Wars Prequels how would you have written Anakin? (assuming the only thing you can't do is erase him from canon :P)

Would you learn into Anakin's evilness or try to make him more sympathetic?

Honestly? I don't have THAT much of an issue with Anakin's general characterization in the Prequel Trilogy. I think for the most part that Anakin is a really interesting character in the Prequels and pretty unique as far as villain origin stories and action heroes of the time tended to be written. The focus on Anakin as FEARFUL, as someone who CRIES a lot and is AWKWARD and honestly not suave or smooth AT ALL (unless he's giving himself over to darkness, generally) is actually a really interestingly novel choice to go for. And that unique aspect of him is, arguably, why Anakin was so despised in the Prequels for being "whiny" and "annoying" and people really did not vibe with this weird awkward dude as proto-Vader. Obi-Wan as the much more competent, smooth, suave character with all of the snarky one-liners comes off looking much better in comparison. Same with Padme, usually.

So I wouldn't actually change the CORE of Anakin, the journey he goes on and the way his vices tend to be shown. TCW has already done that, they've just replaced Anakin's less likable characteristics with Obi-Wan's much more affable personality. They gave him snarky one-liners, he's now suave and smooth and charming, etc. It's annoying and it's boring.

But there are two things that don't work for me that I WOULD change if I were capable of going back in time and influencing Lucas's mind towards certain rewrites.

One is that I would make his romance with Padme more believable. The problem with the romance in AOTC for me is that you can completely believe that Anakin would be into Padme, but it feels a lot more difficult to understand why Padme is into Anakin in return. Especially after he murders an entire village of people down to the last child (we'll come back to this one). So we need to be told more WHY Padme is so into him when he is this weird, awkward, whiny manchild. Like, sure, he's pretty, but being pretty isn't enough to explain why Padme is willing to jeopardize her entire career to marry him by the end of the film.

So Padme either needs to be more corrupt, more angry herself, more connected to this part of Anakin that desires power, or they need to show us a better genuine connection. One of the things from the extended/deleted scenes from AOTC that I think could've helped with this is the bits where Padme mentions she had thought she'd be a wife and a mother by now and we see how close she is to her own family when she takes Anakin there. We know how close Anakin was to his mother and I think it would've been REALLY easy to use that as an easy connection. You could even help along the next movie by having Anakin mention that when he was a kid, he'd always sort-of wanted a big family. He didn't HATE that it was just him and his mom obviously, but it had been a sort of dream of his that one day they'd be free and he'd find a beautiful wife and have a big family for Shmi to dote on later in life. This gives Anakin and Padme a shared dream that neither of them is allowed to pursue due to their chosen careers. They've both sacrificed a desire for a family in favor of duty to the galaxy so when they get together later, you can kind-of understand why. No one else gets it but each other, etc.

The second thing I would change is the Tusken Massacre. I think that going as far as completely massacring the entire village is too far too soon. This is something that works only if you as the viewer don't truly see the Tuskens as equal to humans like Shmi or a people like the Jedi. The Tuskens aren't QUITE animals maybe, but they're also just savages who torture innocent women to death, so their deaths aren't sad for THEIR sake, the massacre is sad because of what it represents for Anakin - it's the beginning of the end. And obviously from a modern viewpoint, this really doesn't work anymore, especially with the way the Tuskens are being written these days. It also feels a little redundant with Order 66. It's not as impactful that he murders Jedi children when we already saw him murder Tusken children in the last movie. Baby murder is baby murder, there's no escalation in the evil he commits aside from sheer numbers I guess.

So I would probably have Anakin either choose to just leave the village quietly without killing anyone, or have him stop at just the guards/men and leave the women/children alive and either way he admits to Padme that he WANTED to kill them all and only just barely stopped himself. This also helps the romance aspect in that now you don't have to figure out why Padme is super chill with marrying a MASS BABY MURDERER and her moral code is a lot less gray. If he only killed the people who attacked him in the village or didn't kill anyone at all but just WANTED to, then you can dismiss it a lot easier. The rage is sympathetic and understandable and relatable, but Anakin is still mostly in control of himself. Padme can say that she's felt the same rage and not acted on it, so Anakin is the same. She can insist he would never murder Jedi younglings to Obi-Wan in the next film without sounding like an idiotic hypocrite.

(There's obviously a LOT of other issues with the Tusken Massacre in terms of how the Tuskens are written and presented in this film that could be rewritten to be a lot better and make the Tuskens more sympathetic, etc etc, but that's not really what you're asking me about and I'm not necessarily the right person to speak to that anyway.)

[yeetmeoutthewindowdaddy]

Information about the Tav I ship with Rolan in my fics:

Figured I should describe the Tav that I envision when I'm writing about him and Rolan.

Unless otherwise stated, this Tav is the Tav who is in every one of my Rolan x Tav fics.

I used a mix of BG3 and DND 5e/ 5.5e mechanics to make this Tav.

This specific Tav isn't playable in BG3. But idgaf, horny brain go brrr.

I can't draw for shit, so I used the Tiefling Maker by Crowesn on Picrew to make the closest approximation of what this Tav looks likes in my mind. Please go check out the maker, it's amazing!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Epilogue stats:

Level: 12

Class: Bard 7, Monk 5

Subclass: College of Dance, Way of the Drunken Master

Ability scores:

Very high: 18 CHA, 17 DEX, 16 WIS High: 15 STR, 14 CON Low: 8 INT

Basic information:

Name: Tav Atarmin

Age: 27

Sex/Gender: Male

Species: 1/4 minotaur, 3/4 human

Build: Big and beefy (think of Dwayne Johnson/Jason Momoa)

Height: 6'7" (7'2" with horns)

Weight: 315 lbs.

Hair: Black, curly, long, luscious, mullet-esque, often in a low ponytail.

Facial hair: Black, balbo goatee (sans moustache)

Eyes: Bright lizard green irises, black pupils, white sclera.

Skin: Sepia brown skin that turns into short fur the further out from the center of his face.

Piercings: Seamless hoop septum/bull ring, 2 (parallel) vertical eyebrow rings/hoops on left eyebrow.

Voice: Warm rich bass, has a wide vocal range, sounds like Colm R. McGuinness when he sings. (Please check out his covers of Enemy and Hallelujah, he is waaaay too underrated for how talented he is.)

Other: Beauty mark on right cheek, light splattering of freckles, cow ears, hooves instead of feet, ivory colored horns, sharp canines and molars, no tail, 5 fingers on each hand, ambidextrous, fingernails are naturally black and claw-like (files/blunts them so he won't accidently hurt his instruments or bedpartners), nails are often painted.

Diet: Omnivore. Prefers meat and most vegetables raw, but will eat them cooked. He eats beef— he knows he's part beef, he does not care "because beef tastes good." Is pretty sure he won't get a prion disease from what could technically be considered partial-cannibalism.

Likes: Spicy food, music, playing instruments, dancing, performing, snapdragons (esp. red and purple), "verbal jousting", sex, being thirsted over, quality goods, gold, flirting, Rolan, cats, fun, lazy days, adventuring, tea (both the drink and the drama), jokes, exercising, dime novels copper novels.

Dislikes: Bland food, injustice, discrimination, watered down alcoholic drinks, blood oranges, anyone who hurts those he cares about or the innocent, hangovers, creepy porcelain dolls, imaginary numbers, the Absolute, being bored.

Personality: Laid back, easy going, humorous, playful, flirty, bold, forward, mischievous, silver-tongued, charming, adventurous, helpful, kind, stubborn, cunning, cocksure, slow to anger (rages like a barbarian when angered), full of wanderlust, distractible, himbo, caring, indulgent, somewhat pragmatic, (secretly a hopeless-)romantic, suave, horny, goofy, generally level headed, proud, diplomatic, smooth, jovial, faux-naïf (uses people's perception of him as a way to make them underestimate him— he acts like a stupid drunk bard to catch his enemies off guard. He is stupid, but he's smarter than he lets on— his WIS score is doing some real heavy lifting.)

Background information:

Alignment: Chaotic good

Personality Traits:

Nobody stays angry at me or around me for long, since I can defuse any amount of tension.

I love a good insult, even one directed at me.

I judge people by their actions, not their words.

I’m confident in my own abilities and do what I can to instill confidence in others.

Ideals:

Respect. People deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. (Good)

People. I like seeing the smiles on people’s faces when I perform. That’s all that matters. (Neutral)

Creativity. The world is in need of new ideas and bold action. (Chaotic)

Freedom. Chains are meant to be broken, as are those who would forge them. (Chaotic)

Bonds:

I protect those who cannot protect themselves.

I fight for those who cannot fight for themselves.

Those who fight beside me are those worth dying for.

Secretly— I am desperately searching for "the one", my soulmate.

Flaws:

Once I pick a goal, I become obsessed with it to the detriment of everything else in my life.

I can't resist a pretty face.

I'd rather eat my armor than admit when I'm wrong.

I have an insatiable desire for carnal pleasures.

Romantic information:

Sexual orientation: Pansexual, but has a strong preference for men/people who present or identify as masc.

Love Languages (G)iving/(R)eceiving: Words of affirmation (G,R), gift giving (R), physical touch (G,R), acts of service (G), quality time (G,R).

Type of lover: The "Get you a man who sexually dominates you but who also is caring and loving" meme.

His type: "Spicy", bratty, tsundere, smart, talented, tiefling, confident, easily flustered.

Relationship style: No strings attached/noncommittal until he finds "the one". After he finds his "true love" he'd be ethically non-monogamous or into swinging.

Other: Believes that lust and love are not intrinsically linked with one another. He is secretly a hopeless-romantic who believes he has one true love/a soul mate. His normally high charisma stat flies out the window when he tries to flirt with someone who he actually wants to date. Vacillates between cocksure and sheepish around Rolan, he's in love and doesn't know what to do about it. Lust, he can handle. But love? He's out of his depth. The dime novels copper novels he enjoys reading didn't prepare him for how overwhelming romantic feelings would be— he thought that love would feel like lust with a smidge more emotional intensity/intimacy, not a tsunami wave threatening to drown him.

NSFW information:

Genitals: 9", thick, veiny, semi-retractable minotaur penis. Big hairy breeder balls.

Piercings: Prince Albert, guiche, both nipples.

Sex drive: High, the horny bard trope exists for a reason.

Role: Prefers to top but is willing to bottom. Is a dom who will sub, albeit rarely.

Kinks: Breeding, daddy, brat-taming, spanking, shibari, size, exhibitionism, voyeurism, gaping, mild-humiliation, scent, piss, mirror sex, praise, tails, tail sex, oral, anal, belly bulge, light-degradation, edging, intimacy, overstimulation, body worship, begging, aural, dacryphilia, cross dressing, cucking (only when he is the stud/bull), BDSM.

Squicks: (Anything that's illegal irl), vomit, scat, prolapse, under-negotiated kinks/scenes, actual bestiality (he's down to fuck Halsin in bear form lmao), farting, burping, cake farting (he doesn't want to talk about why cake farting has a separate, independent listing), grapefruiting.

[thehypotensivegrad]

The Adviser (25/45) | Bechloe Mafia AU

The Way of the Mafia (Chapter Preview - Read the rest at ao3)

The day for the seminar where Chicago was going to give a keynote address rolled in, with the days leading up to it going by relatively fast. Chloe and her friends have been hard at work in ensuring this was an afternoon to remember, and she was looking forward to how things would unfold.

She found a seat on the second level of the college auditorium where the seminar was going to be held, Aubrey right next to her. The two of them were mostly left alone on that seating level with only a scant few others scattered about in their level, and most of the audience sitting on the first level. Aubrey focused on her phone and coordinating with everyone else from the tower working with them on their "mission," leaving Chloe to her thoughts. She was a bit peeved that she didn't get the chance to see Beca earlier that day, as she claimed to be busy with a surprise, so she was looking forward to watching Chicago flail on stage when they enact their plan even more. She was, admittedly, also both curious and looking forward to the surprise Beca had promised her.

It was ridiculous. They see each other every day, but since she's moved back to her own place, she could feel the absence of Beca's presence grow intolerably more and more each day.

Chloe huffed when she saw Chicago walk in surrounded by her posse of the Kommissar, Pietro, and his bumbling brother, Theo. He was dressed in some chic business casual ensemble, a light gray coat looking suit paired with the same-colored pants, and a white shirt underneath matched with a pair of white sneakers. He was giving off a humble but wealthy aura, which was what he wanted his image to be in the first place.

Chloe sick to her stomach seeing him again in person now that the truth has become known to them. She's managed to avoid him for the last few weeks since he's been silent on his end from the moment Beca uncovered who he really was. She simply can't believe that she ever considered him a friend. Who would have thought he was someone so sinister underneath the charming and goofy persona he evoked.

It didn't help that his outfit looked so clean and pristine when she knows just how stained his hands were with the blood of the innocent people he had hurt. From RDU-90, to BLSD, and pretty much everything else Babel. It didn't sit well with her how easy he had washed his hands off of any responsibility for his actions and avoided – more like bought – his way through facing any semblance of justice as a consequence to his actions.

They were introducing Chicago when Beca arrived, dressed all suave in a blue suit and a black long-sleeved shirt underneath. She paired the suit with the pants, and shirt with her sneakers just like Chicago and Chloe couldn't help but think how they were such polar opposites of each other. Beca was a mafiosa who could rule the underworld if she wanted and Chicago a – wrongfully – celebrated CEO basking in the glory of living in the light, with a – false – reputation and image everyone would want to have. Yet here they were, the villain was fighting for the people, and the person one would think to be a white knight was the true evil master mind.

As Beca sat down, she offered Chloe some popcorn from a bucket she didn't realize Beca carried in one hand. Where she got the popcorn, Chloe wasn't so sure of. There weren't any outside.

"Is this your surprise?" Chloe asked and Beca quirked her eyebrow at her.

"This isn't even nowhere near it," Beca replied. "I'm hurt you think I'll disappoint you like this, Beale."

Aubrey cleared her throat before Chloe could even make any witty comebacks. "Am I invisible here or are you going to offer me some popcorn too?"

Beca chuckled and handed her the bucket. Aubrey grabbed a handful before passing it back to Chloe who did the same, all while Chicago started prattling on and on about leadership, innovation, and how Babel would like to save the world with its endeavors starting with their plans of developing new electric vehicles from renewable resources. He snapped his fingers at the projectionist in his own room a level above where Chloe, Beca, and Aubrey sat to start a recorded video promoting Babel Motors latest projects and showcasing their electric vehicles.

Beca smirked when the feed started rambling. Aubrey looked at a message on her phone and confirmed Chloe's suspicions on why.

It was showtime.

[disabledfurry]

ID: a still from a tiktok of a man with glasses making an OK sign with his hand, speaking. text above him says "they can fake everything else but the eyes". end ID

i... want to add this to this if that's ok and if not you can ignore it. i know the main post is about highly stigmatized personality disorders and do not want to detract from that which is why my reply is not solely about facial differences, especially because my experience is both of having what are considered aspd symptoms (i don't want to call it a personality disorder or mental illness at all especially with the way i've been treated, it's just part of me, even if it's one that disables me pretty substantially and makes people treat me like i am satan in the flesh) and a facial difference

i have so much more i could say about how facial differences and not just aspd and npd as conditions but the traits of them even without the disorder names attached are viewed by society, i could write probably an actual essay about it, but i'll try to focus

so like i have both this problem and also i flat out cannot move my facial muscles, plus my eyes shadow and are sunken, one of my eyes rolls back, and my left eyebrow is kind of permanently raised. possibly one of my cheeks being more hollow and the way i move also contributes to this, idk what people think when they see me i'm not capable of accessing their thoughts, all i know is i look either unimpressed and judging or sinister, people treat me like i am unimpressed and judging or sinister, media mostly depicts people with neurological conditions and facial differences as villains in the exact same way i have been treated and continue to be treated, and people historically have thought that facial differences are a sign of ontological evil

the ethical model of disability: you are like this because you are evil, or because you have done something to deserve it

growing up adults treated me like i was manipulative, always lying to them, and didn't really feel what i said i felt, including guilt. i was treated like i was absolutely, irredeemably morally bad and was severely punished for ridiculous bullshit, including getting bullied for being disabled. i know a lot of people have had that experience, but for me it was that the able bodied kids were treated like they had good intentions, while i was treated like i was evil and evil was all i could be.

connecting that to what i'm about to say, i remember when people posted a picture of iirc mr beast and then made a whole bunch of funny jokes about how his smile doesn't reach his eyes and he looks like he has bodies buried in his basement. growing up i got told i look like a serial killer. there is a video by a woman with facioscapulohumeral muscular dystrophy where she talks about how she has to explain to people that it's not that she doesn't care, but that she just can't move her facial muscles. her smile "doesn't reach her eyes"; neither does mine.

this... is because society also views, like i said, things like not being able to care or feel as malevolent. pop psych "empaths" revolve themselves around the concept of narcissism, which they consider to be the ultimate evil. because the "narcissist" exists, non narcissists must not be capable of and can only ever be victims to abuse, because they (think they) do not have the traits they think make people ontologically abusive. in their definition, a "narcissist" is a bad person who only cares about themselves and is manipulatively charming and suave, lulling their poor innocent victims into a false sense of security so they can be abused.

likewise, a "sociopath" is deceitful, cannot be trusted, and is physically dangerous. a "psychopath" is either the same thing as a "sociopath" or is even more dangerous on account of an altered state of mind, like psychosis or dissociative identity disorder.

the traits that make these conditions and categories of person the most sinister, to people who think they make you evil, are lack of empathy and shallow emotions, or lack of emotion entirely.

in addition to the facial difference i also have flat affect and do not express emotion with my body either, though i didn't really mention body language being something these people obsessively analyze for tells of "narcissism" or "sociopathy" as they define them, and i am "superficially charming". combined with my appearance and lack of emotion, the possibility that i am genuinely easygoing and like to make people laugh does absolutely not occur to people ever; i'm just trying to lull them into a false sense of security so they believe all my lies, or something.

mental health professionals treat me like i'm hannibal lecter and they're clarice, to the point that my therapist suddenly switched gears after i voiced this fear of being treated like this and started treating me like... this. because i'm "telling on myself" i guess.

i mention this because these issues are connected though i'm extremely inarticulate about it due to it being a really complex topic because it's like... multiple interwoven societal issues.

mostly, i am judged to be malicious because society views both people with facial differences and people who cannot express emotion, or do not feel it, as evil.

ime, like, the worst thing you can be to people is a narcissist, sociopath, or psychopath. once they think you're one of those things, nothing will convince them you're a human being. all you can be to them is deceitful, manipulative, solely self motivated, and uncaring in any way that matters (i lack empathy but i do show people affection and interest and love because i want them to be happy- though i don't actually feel it and it honest to god doesn't usually benefit me, i do the things that show that you care, because i want my loved ones and strangers too to be happy, healthy, and safe)

if someone else says you're actually a good person, they can just argue you've manipulated or brainwashed or abused that person. you trick people inherently. everything you do is because you want something. etc. it is a complete reputation and self image destroyer.

this is also why i think so many incarcerated people are diagnosed with psychopathy but that's something i don't feel qualified to talk about. i just feel like, in court, it's really useful to be like "yeeeah this guy is a total psychopath you can't believe anything he says".

narcissist video on tiktok: the way this is kind of true and I hate it. one reason I try not to smile in selfies is I get asks saying "your eyes look void" "your eyes look dead" etc. and when I looked into why people think this, it's apparently a result of your eyes not "smiling" when you smile, making the emotion look unnatural. I think it triggers a sort of "uncanny valley" reaction in people.

so why does this happen?

it happens for a variety of reasons. some traumatized people are frequently in a dissociative state for protection. this started for me whenever I was alone with my dad as a kid and continued into adulthood. people told him his eyes had the exact same look and (unfortunately) those eyes are compared to mine. "how would trauma relate to the narcissism thing?" because traits in npd/aspd/bpd are defensive learned behaviors in response to trauma (why I jokingly call it "evil ptsd").

some false assumptions people make about this "look" are that it means you're acting in a way that's inherently malicious and manipulative, but that's not true. it also doesn't make you some sort of inhuman monster like the guy in this video seems to think. the faking of emotions here isn't even that unique. YOU, the person reading this, have faked or exaggerated emotions before in situations where you'd feel awkward otherwise. if you work in customer service you're probably faking emotions 90% of the time as part of the job. it's ultimately a morally neutral behavior that can be done with good or bad intentions.

so please, don't say weird shit about peoples' facial expressions...we are all trying to fit in here!

[screenmaven]

Lying Eyes - Film Review

Thriller/Romance 1996

I’m Back!! Review time. I know it’s been a minute, and yes I’m back on my 90s made for tv, lifetime esq masterpieces, or just some good b movie noirs. This one however was insanely good.

Here’s the 411.

We have a senior girl Amy (played by Cassidy Rae) in high school who’s obviously very pretty and gets into an accident with a charming dark haired man. I’m gonna call him Mr Suave or as the film calls him Derek Bradshaw (played by Vincent Irizarry), cause boy did he lay it on real thick. He starts up a romance with Amy although she is 18 and him 33. Oh those older men romances that just end so well lol. (Might be speaking from experience when I was in high school 😱😅). The Cranberries song “Dreams” was used from their first meeting, and throughout, which was an absolutely perfect fit for this scenario. I love me some Cranberries and definitely 1996, so it blended the film so well. Music to me really makes a film work.

Amy gets swept off her feet by Derek giving her expensive gifts, fine jewelry, making her feel more mature and cultured, all the while doing a number on her mentally. He’s a lawyer with a beach house and a telescope, and can go about anywhere. (I may just be tempted myself with a telescope offer..). Anyways, her friends are jealous, as well as concerned, but she’s just head over heels in love with him, but then it gets twisted. Nothing in these movies ever goes that smoothly, or those relationships, despite our illusive fantasies. I mean sometimes they can work, but I don’t know many that have. We’ve all had fantasies of older men, as teenage girls, just as boys have had the same for some older women too. It’s the mystery and taboo that’s exciting.

So, after they are into their whirlwind romance, Amy goes to fix a bracelet that Derek gave her at the jeweler, after it broke. When she gave his name to the jeweler, she hears he bought two, and after going to that other address she discovers he has a wife, and children. I mean, did we not see that coming?! Then she confronts him about it and he says he wants a divorce and that Amy is the only one he wants. Classic line, time and again.

All the while why they are dating, from the start of their meeting Amy is also being harassed and stalked by someone maliciously. After finding out about his wife, she suspected it was her, but I’m not going to give it away if it was her or it wasn’t. This movie has got some good twists and turns and I really want you to watch it to find out the mystery stalker. Again, as I said earlier parts of this movie made me think of a situation I was once in and goodness, was that a time. Young women are very impressionable and as an older woman now, some of these older men preying on women’s young innocence is very predatory. Although, it might feel hot to be young and have an older guy, it is never an easy road, and you often find yourself in more of a mess. Still, it’s a great film and scenario that keeps your interest, and I love me a good wild romance.

Go ahead and give it a go if you’re looking for something cool to watch in that genre. I was actually pretty impressed with the quality, cinematography, and writing, and may you also enjoy some Cranberries, which I linked below.

Happy Filming

[ultravioletrayz]

hello, darling!!

i absolutely love your work and how you write and i was wondering if you could write something for miguel inspired by the song million dollar man by lana del rey? it could be something like him being reader's sugar daddy and taking them to trips and shopping sprees. I'd love it if it had some smut to it but that's up you!!

thank you!!

A miguel ask based on lana? Nonnie, I’m in love 😩 (18+)

"You're screwed up and brilliant... Look like a million dollar man... So why is my heart broke?"

You had thought that being with a man of such status, a man with sophistication flooding out of his deep pockets, would make such degenerate acts a thing of the past. You're 'dating' the CEO of Alchemax, a certain level of refinement should have been expected.

But not with Miguel.

Miguel has money and power, sure, but he's dangerous. He's tainted. He's flawed.

Only you, his princess, get to see those flaws of an otherwise suave man. One of which being his inability to resist your seemingly innocent charms. Something about your naivety turned Miguel into a needy man, hellbent on satisfying you with his lavish lifestyle and fat cock, while you cling to him like the pretty little trophy you are.

Tonight is no different.

The noise of people chatting coming from outside the sleek bathroom of the fancy restaurant Miguel had brought you to is filtered out by your muffled cries into the calloused palm of Miguel's hand clasped over your mouth, smearing the Dior lip gloss you bought with his card last week.

Miguel's eyes constantly dart back and forth between the clasp of the Tiffany necklace that decorates your neck, and the way your ass ripples with the force of each of his thrusts, the bottom of your little black designer dress flipped up to give Miguel a good view of the way your perfect body greedily sucks his cock inside.

Everything acts as a constant reminder that, despite your relationship being hard to define, there is no price Miguel isn't willing to pay to get you to remain loyal. To remain his.

It's almost unbelievable, the fact that even though Miguel sees you as the most radiant exotic flower, he still makes it abundantly clear that you're at his mercy by fucking you in the cramped toilet stall of a 5-star restaurant.

You whimper and sob, Miguel's girth splitting you open as your forehead lulls against the wall, making Miguel chuckle.

"This is all part of the deal, muñequita. I get to grab you and take you anywhere I like. If you don't like it, then it's no more special presents for you. ¿Entiendes?"

I tried to incorporate as many lyrics as I could into this ;)

[i-did-not-mean-to]

hi, I'm the same anon that requested Russingon angst! Oh my, I definitely picking the happy ending because the other was too heartbreaking! My beloved gay elves stay together and love each other!

Am I able to request fluff this time around? I really loved how you wrote Caranthir, oh that baby! Could you write something with his drunk wife based on this prompt please by @doodle-pops ?

The ones that get stuck with the drunken confession as they're drinking the night away with you. "I think, I'm in love with you and...and you're cute butt." You still haven't grasped that they're your lover already, but they're just laughing and encouraging you to continue because it's clearly humorous.

Dearest anon...It was a pleasure to write this for you!!!

So...Caranthir babysitting his own wife...and some more Moryo-love, because dude deserves to be adored!

Words: 1,3k

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, inebriation

Characters: Caranthir x wife

Caranthir watched his beloved wife flinch as if something had flown past her head at high velocity when – actually – she had merely turned her head a fraction.

He should have known that she would not be up to drinking with – or against – his family; Tyelko was too competitive in nature to let the opportunity to win any contest pass him by and his other brothers knew better than to indulge him in this.

Even their cousins had bowed out with a mocking grin; Írissë had to admit defeat – and paid dearly for her inferiority – too many times to accept the challenge out out-drinking Tyelko willingly.

“Moryo,” his oldest brother whispered, “you better get your wife before she topples off the chair. She’s had quite enough.” He sighed heavily, “I’ll go and drag your brother to his room by the scruff of his neck.”

“He’s your brother too,” Caranthir replied smoothly despite the worry bubbling up in his chest, “actually, he’s been yours longer than he’s been mine.” They exchanged a single look and then called for Curufin unisono; Celegorm was his problem as far as they were concerned.

“You might have to carry her to bed,” Maedhros then smirked when he saw his sister-in-law sway softly side-to-side, “let me know if you need help.”

“Why don’t you mind cousin Finno? He’s about to lose in a card game to cousin Ingo?” Caranthir shot back sweetly; they both knew that Finrod’s games usually ended in one or more of the players compelled – or seduced – into disrobing in public.

Ambling over – careful not to startle his wife by moving too quickly in her vicinity – Caranthir sat down by her side and waited for her fuzzy mind to catch on to his presence; when she finally had turned all the way around to him, he gave her a cautious smile, guarded and thin as they usually were.

“Hi,” she slurred, slumping suspiciously, “you’re a pretty one.”

She frowned at the words she had spoken and tried to wipe them away by passing an erratic hand over her numb lips.

“Well thank you, my Lady,” he replied suavely, leaning back in his chair relaxedly; this promised to be fun. Waving at a servant to bring them a flask of water, he emptied the dredges of stale wine onto the floor without much ceremony and handed the exquisitely made goblet over to the unsteady lady.

“Ah, and kind,” she commented blurrily, “I think I might be a little in love with you already.” She hiccupped and cleared her throat a few times.

“You’re really cute too,” she then went on with a conviction that made Caranthir’s smile open like a new blossom in the sunshine.

“Is that so?” he grinned, “Methinks, my Lady, that your perception of my charm is redoubled by the fact that you see me twice.”

“No,” she exclaimed a tad too loudly, “you are truly handsome and courteous, Sir.”

Her fingers waved indecisively in front of his face – flush with mirth rather than annoyance at this innocent show of admiration – but never settled on his skin.

“I should refrain from gazing upon you any further,” she then declared with new-found vigour as she pulled herself up in a wonky, wobbling movement, “for I am a married woman; at least, I think I am. And – no matter how delightfully gorgeous you may be – you can never live up to the excellence of my Lord husband.”

“Indeed? Tell me about that one then,” Caranthir prompted, feigning bitter disappointment, and trying to replicate the doe-eyed look the twins had weaponised over time; to his surprise, his charade seemed to have the intended effect as she patted his cheek rather roughly now.

“Do not be aggrieved, my Lord,” she susurrated, “nobody compares to my husband. He has the complexion of a late summer sunset, crimson bleeding into the endless white of a perfect sky, and the eyes of a mid-autumn thunderstorm; moreover, my husband’s mind is sharper than the king’s blade and quicker than the winds sweeping the burned plains.”

She took a deep breath and gave a longing sigh.

“I remember now,” she whispered confidentially, “and so I know that all the promise of your resplendent appearance could never measure up to the hard truth of my husband’s tenderness. Oh, how he makes me tremble and sigh; he wields me like Lord Maedhros wields his sword, plays me like Lord Maglor plays his harp, and commands me like Lord Celegorm commands that hound at his side. You must see then that – even in my deplorable state of wine-poisoned oblivion – I cannot be untrue to the most exquisite of creatures.”

“He sounds like a very lucky man,” Caranthir laughed, the joyful abandon making him look centuries younger than he was, as he made to lift her from the chair, “to be loved with such ferocious intensity.”

“Touch me not,” she griped but nuzzled her face against his chest as if her body remembered what her mind could not decipher in her haze, “I told you and I mean it: I shall not be unfaithful to the one I love more than the world itself. All creation becomes meaningless without his steadfast love; he is loved fiercely for there is no other way to love him; if you disbelieve me, just ask any of his kin!”

Again, he couldn’t help but chuckle as he pressed his lips – stretched wide in a fond grin – against her feverish brow; he sincerely doubted that any of his brothers or cousins would confess to loving him with a burning passion, but it felt surprisingly comforting to learn that his wife seemed to see what had escaped his distrustful and cynical mind.

Humming a lullaby to her as he carried her to their chambers, Caranthir felt light-headed with joy and pride himself; he had not meant to dupe his own wife, but the opportunity had been too seductive not to give in to a bit of innocent fun.

“Do you know me not then, wife?” he asked quietly when he laid her down on their bed, prying off the uncomfortable shoes she insisted on wearing for effect.

“Hmmmm?” Her head rose drowsily from the pristine pillows and her eyes lit up when they found his gently smiling face that – beckoned by her longing stare – was moving towards her steadily as he crawled up to where she lay.

“I love you, you little fool,” he murmured and smoothed down her wild hair with a tender hand, “and I feel honoured to see your devotion and loyalty to me reaffirmed thus.”

His plans to skin his brother alive for putting his beloved in a state of near-unconsciousness faded as he was dragged by the collar into her warm arms, loving even if slightly haphazardly-aimed kisses raining down on his own impeccably braided hair, and held there like a treasure she was unwilling to part with.

“Moryo?” she asked, sleep already mellowing her inflection, “Is that you, dearest of souls?”

“It is I, heart of hearts,” he replied, wondering when he had last smiled so much in a single evening, “I am right here.”

“I had the most incredible dream,” she said between hearty yawns, “I met a gorgeous man who was charming and sweet. Worry not though, my darling husband, your honest though prickly affection will always prevail over factitious, treacly flattery.”

With a loud guffaw, stifled by her bosom against which he was still clutched tightly, Caranthir closed his eyes, happy beyond description to know that his wife loved every iteration of him but still preferred his truest self to any persona or mask he might don to appease and please others.

So, dear anon, here's the short scene about Carnistir getting his wife to bed, learning that he's truly loved, and certainly not hitting his brother!

I hope you liked this 💖💖💖

As always, an honour and a pleasure to get requests!

[temenosimp]

Tried to do this in the replies, but apparently there's a length limit lol

I think there's probably a lot of potential out there with ways to make Akiren his own character as the rival, but also I don't mind the regurgitation of casting him as the "detective prince" personally. From a doylist perspective, it's just easier to write if you don't change too many plot beats. In character, though, I think Akiren (especially one who got trapped in young) would be enough of a doormat/people pleaser that he would adapt to any - hah - persona that Shido and co told him to. And having a detective solving his own crimes is a pretty convenient deal, as well as a way to keep tabs on people like the SIU director. But there's definitely room for interpretation.

As for how he acts it up, one thing that I've seen a few times and executes nicely is that rather than going with Akechi's almost "boy band" idol vibes, wide eyed and innocent, they emphasize Akiren as the suave, charming gentleman. Still charismatic for the cameras, but a different flavor. Extra points for drawing off of Arsene, which also helps to keep a lot of the "gentleman thief" to his characterization that could otherwise get lost within all the anger of being abandoned and betrayed by the world... or whatever else results from being the Black/White Mask. I also think making him have that smooth, compassionate charm plays off a lot of his natural charisma and tendencies, maintaining the same sort of thing that drew many of the PT (specifically looking at the early scene with Ann in Big Bang Burger) toward him in canon... or at least by my interpretation!

Another thing I see a lot is that in these role reversals, a common theme is Akiren just irritating the hell out of Akechi, playing into a more joking dynamic and proudly "being himself" when Akechi is often still putting himself under layers of "politeness". It does read to me as significantly distinct from the 3rd Sem x Prince vibe you mentioned being worried about. But also, honestly, sometimes it can feel a bit too far and I miss quiet Joker. Idk, it's a totally valid interpretation of the character, but doesn't quite strike my itch.

One very specific example of a great roleswap that sticks out in my mind, was where Akiren was a private investigator whose "shtick" for the cameras was playing up a sort of clairvoyance. It tied in so nicely with the idea of tarot and arcanas that are so important to the persona series, and also he utilized the Third Eye skill in order to actually make his "supernatural" deductions! I always need more Third Eye in fics in my life, it's so fascinating to me. Anyway, I thought that concept did a great job of bringing in some Joker Originality to the detective prince role.

Well, uh, you probably didn't expect such a long response out of nowhere, haha! Hope you don't mind my ramblings, and have a lovely timezone :)

if you love shuake role reversal AU...

how exactly do you imagine Akiren as a detective?

thoughts and ideas below

at first I never tried to read this trope but then I realized it could be fun to force Akechi to make friends, plus if you erase his knowledge of who his father might be, it's possible to steer him towards different goals.

however, idk how Akiren would act as a detective! giving him the detective prince persona (charming, polite, witty, talkative) feels boring to me because in the end the shuake feels like it's just third semester goro dating his own detective prince persona.

I do like to take characters and throw them in completely different situations though, I believe with the right context you can push characterization a lot.

one idea I had was to make akiren go into the metaverse while he's still very young, and he accidentally makes a bad person have a mental shutdown (like he didn't know what would happen if he killed that shadow) since the death is suspicious and cognitive research is happening, eventually someone figures out akiren is responsible, and Shido manipulates him into working with him to make up for that terrible thing he did. then he'd use akiren for spying and influencing his enemies. not for killing because I feel like it'd take a lot to turn akiren into a murderer if he isn't doing it for something super important and to save someone else and having all that character development before shuake even meets is boring to me.

so anyway, akiren still would need to be famous to access more of mementos but how would he use his personality for this? what would an interview with him sound and look like?

that's where I get stuck and I haven't found a fic I like in which I feel like he's really akiren at the beginning

[charles-rxwlands]

lay all your love on me

okay!! so this is my fic for @magpiencrow's 1.2k writing challenge.

this is based off of the song lay all your love on me, slowed, by putin

pairing: nikolai/reader

rating: general

tags: gn!reader w/ gn pronouns, fluff

summary: falling in love with nikolai lantsov told through several vignettes

or: mindless nikolai/reader fluff with a alina and ivan being little shits

warnings: right off the bat there's a nightmare about drowning in the ocean, and there's one (1) swear word at the end, but other than that, there's nothing

word count: 4.1k

read on ao3

constructive criticism, feedback, and reblogs are greatly appreciated !

I haven't written anything in a while, so i may be a bit rusty, but please enjoy :)

You were drowning, and also pretty damn sure you were going to die out here. Your lungs were on fire, screaming for air, but you couldn't emerge from the ocean for long enough to suck in a breath. Sure, your hand or head breached the surface every now and then, but a wave would come crashing down on you immediately after, destroying all your progress.

      The undulating waves threw you around like a football - a very pathetic one, at that. As hard as you tried to fight the current, it still insisted on moving against you (stubborn bastard), so really you weren't going anywhere. Just pathetically bobbing around in the same pathetic place. You couldn't feel your limbs - the only thing you could feel was the agonising ache in your chest. It was as if your arms and legs had frozen over along with your will to live.

      How easy it would be to just... 

...let the ocean take you...

      Suddenly, someone grabbed you by the wrist. You screamed, which was a mistake; immediately, salty seawater filled your mouth, making you gag and choke. Nevertheless, you valiantly tried to release yourself from whoever - whatever? - had their hold on you. 

      "Y/n, Y/n! Relax, darling, relax," a voice said, sounding out of breath. "It's me."

      You whirled your head around. Sagging with relief, you gasped out the name of your saviour. "Nikolai."

      "Yes. Yes, Y/n, my love, it's me. It's Nikolai," he soothed, running his hands over your wet hair.

      "Nikolai," you breathed. "Nikola-" - a wave reared up on its hind legs, ready to come crashing down onto your friend, ready to take him away - "no, no, Nikolai, NO-!"

   

You startled, eyes flying open. You were shaking like a leaf. Were you cold, or was it just the adrenaline from the nightmare still making its course? You shook your head as if to rid your mind of the dream. It wasn't real. Nikolai had saved you that night. It was fine. It wasn't real.

      But it could very well have been real, a traitorous voice in your mind whispered. Scowling, you cursed your pessimistic side. Even if a wave had separated you two, Nikolai would have fought tooth and nail to get to you again. You would have done the same. After all, you were childhood friends, and you knew better than anyone that Nikolai didn't let go of his loved ones so easily.

      He hadn't wanted you to accompany him on his journey overseas as Sturmhond. You insisted otherwise, channeling some of Nikolai's stubbornness that had rubbed off on you. ("You're not getting rid of me that easily, idiot. So let me come, unless you want me to steal your kneecaps."). 

      A half-smile appeared on your face as you thought back to the memory. Slowly, you got up from your bed. Your blanket was draped over your shoulders. You slipped out of your cabin quietly, walking down the hallway until you found yourself in front of Nikolai's room. He stirred in his sleep when you entered. The door creaked slightly, but it didn't seem like his distress was because of the noise.

      You sat on the edge of his bed. Nikolai, previously facing away, turned over to face you. His eyes were still screwed shut, eyebrows knitted together and an unhappy expression on his face. You frowned. 

      "Nikolai." you nudged him gently. "Wake up. You're okay, just wake up. It's just a dream."

      He opened his eyes, blinking at you. "Y/n?"

      "Hi," you said. A lock of golden hair fell over his forehead, and upon instinct, you reached to brush it away. He let you, not uttering any of his usual complaints. 

      "You were gone," he mumbled, undoubtedly referencing his nightmare. "I- I couldn't save you, and you were gone." 

      You shifted into a more comfortable position - your whole body was on the bed now, with your back against the headboard. He leaned his head against your chest, and you ran your fingers through his hair. "It wasn't real. It's okay. You saved me - I'm not going anywhere, 'Lai."

      "Me either," he agreed, wrapping his arms around your middle. A beat of silence. Then, "Thank you."

      You were more than content to fall asleep like this. Even if it meant waking up with an ache in your neck. Judging from the way he was curled up, practically drinking in your presence, Nikolai felt the same way.

      What a feeling it was to have found solace in Nikolai Lantsov, and to know he had found solace in you, too.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Nikolai's pov

Nikolai watched from the corner of the ballroom as you laughed at one of Ivan's jokes. One would say that he was scowling, but the Prince of Ravka didn't scowl. No - he was simply observing your conversation with the Heartrender with visible distaste. He was not scowling. And he was not jealous.

      You and Ivan were smiling at each other, standing by the refreshments table, mouths moving quickly, the both of you obviously interested in whatever you were talking about. You threw your head back in a laugh. You looked gorgeous. Nikolai wanted to make you laugh like that - more than he wanted to admit.

      The last straw was when Ivan lay a hand on your shoulder, and then snaked his arm around you. You didn't seem perturbed by his touch - no, actually, you leaned into it. He bent down to whisper something in your ear that made you duck your head in embarrassment and lightly hit his chest. 

      Nikolai's glare deepened, if that were even possible. Okay, fine, maybe he was jealous. Did he even have the right to be jealous, though? It wasn't as if he was dating you, as much as he'd like to be.

And oh boy, he'd like to be. 

      Suddenly, Alina appeared at his side, seemingly out of thin air. He flinched. "Alina." 

      The girl in question had a mischievous look in her eye. Her hands were clasped in front of her, the long, flowy sleeves of her dress falling just past her wrists. The bottom half of her gown was a sparkly gold, whereas the top half was a dark blue. The two colours faded into each other at the middle, creating a gradient effect. It was a beautiful dress. You had helped Alina pick it out yourself, if he remembered correctly.

      "Hello, loverboy." she poked him in the side, grinning knowingly. "How's your crush on Y/n going for you?"

      "I don't have a crush on them, Alina, for Saint's sake."

      "Oh, is that so? You do seem... ah, what was the word... utterly whipped for them, contrary to what you just said," she said, tilting her head to the side, feigning innocence.

      "Am not," he argued. "I-," Nikolai paused, taking notice of you and Ivan walking past a couple metres away. Unfortunately, you were too engrossed in your current conversation to notice him. His eyes lingered on you. He only looked away when you disappeared back into the throng of people. 

      Alina let out a triumphant 'ha!'. 

      He directed his attention back to her and glared. "Alina, I swear-,"

      "Utterly. Whipped," she mouthed.

      "I will behead you," he threatened.

      She laughed. "In all seriousness, I really don't think Y/n and Ivan like each other like that," Alina said.

      "Well, of course not," he agreed. "Y/n very clearly has eyes for me. I can't say I blame them - who could resist all this? Everyone's all over me, as I'm sure you've noticed." 

      Alina stared at him pointedly.

      "Ah, except for you, of course. You seem to be the only one immune to my charm and charisma. An odd one, you are."

       She rolled her eyes. "Why do I even bother," she groaned. "Just swear to me that you'll tell Y/n you like them soon. Within a week. Swear on... your dignity."

      "My dignity?" Nikolai drawled.

      "Yes, your dignity, because if you don't fess up soon, I'll have to tell Y/n about your crush on them myself," she grinned smugly, and darted off before Nikolai could retort. 

      He sighed. As he saw it, he had three options:

      1. Blackmail Alina (because of course she wouldn't give in to simple bribery)

      2. Get on his knees and beg Alina to not tell you of his massive crush (there! he admitted it; he had a massive crush on you! One that he'd been harbouring for just over a year now, too)

      3. Listen to Alina, and confess on his own terms

      All three were mortifying, and things he absolutely didn't want to do. However, the last was considerably easier to do, and came with the most benefits and the least consequences. You had already seen him through his most embarrassing moments (and he through yours) so even if you rejected him, the humiliation would be minimal. 

      And maybe he wanted to confess. And maybe there was hope that you liked him back. Nikolai wasn't stupid - he knew when people fancied him. He suspected you liked him back, but then again, that could've been wishful thinking, or maybe he was misreading the entire thing.

      He didn't even understand why he was so jealous of the way Ivan and you had interacted. Before he had fallen heads over heels in love with you, his childhood best friend, people flirting with you hadn't been a problem. He'd encouraged it, even. But now, bitterness flared up inside of him every time he saw someone getting a bit too cozy with you. 

      In short, his feelings for you had completely destroyed his facade of smooth, suave, sexy Prince of Ravka. And it kind of terrified him how poorly he hid it.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Nikolai had been acting strange lately, and it was bothering you. You feared the worst - had he finally caught on to your crush? You thought you'd been subtle until Ivan had approached you at the most recent party. Apparently, the scowl on your face as you watched Nikolai flirt with the guests had been fierce enough to kill.

      Ivan had given you (unsolicited) advice, telling you to be straightforward and direct. That was what he'd done with Fedyor, after all, and that had worked out well.

      You were pacing around your room. Ivan was perched on your bed, watching you have a borderline nervous breakdown like one would watch the view. 

   ��  "You're enjoying this, aren't you, Ivan?" you demanded. "I'm about to make a life or death decision, and you're enjoying it."

      He chuckled. "I wouldn't call this a life or death decision, Y/n. If Nikolai rejects you, he rejects you, and it's his loss. If he reciprocates, good, and you'll be free to frolic in the meadows with him, all fine and dandy."

      You stared at him, your expression communicating, "Did you really just say that?", very clearly.

      "Okay, okay, fine, I'll be serious." Ivan relented. "Just tell him, Y/n. What's the worst that could happen?" 

      Just as you were about to respond - "Well, I don't know, what if he rejects me, things become eternally awkward between us, and our 10 year long friendship is ruined because I couldn't keep my mouth shut?" - someone knocked at the door. You opened it to find Nikolai waiting. His hair was perfectly styled, as always. He wore a dark turquoise suit jacket, and a simple white dress shirt underneath. The ghost of a smile appeared on your face; you had chosen the colour for him.

      "Hi, Nikolai," you greeted. 

      "Hello," he said. "Come on a walk with me. It's a lovely day outside, and both of us have been dreadfully busy lately - we may not get another chance to spend time together, I'm afraid."

      "Oh! Of course, just let me grab more suitable shoes- I'll be out in a minute- Ivan, move." You rummaged around your room in search of the sandals Nikolai had gifted you for your most recent birthday. Ivan flashed you a grin.

      "Tell him!" he whispered as you ducked out the door.

      You hoped you didn't seem too jittery as you took Nikolai's arm, even if your insides were filled with butterflies. He seemed deep in thought for the first few minutes of your walk. It wasn't until you were both outside that he finally spoke.

      "I hope you don't mind me asking, Y/n, but what was Ivan doing in your room?" he asked. 

      The question caught you off guard. Why was he so concerned about you and Ivan? It wasn't as if-

      Oh.

      Oh.

      "Nikolai, don't tell me- are you jealous?" you exclaimed.

      "Just answer the question, Y/n," he grumbled, which was enough of an answer for you.

      You laughed, only feeling a bit bad that you were so amused. Nikolai Lantsov, jealous. You found that incredibly funny. "Oh, I'm sorry for laughing," you apologised, even as another giggle escaped your mouth. "You don't have to worry, Ivan and I are strictly friends."

      He didn't seem convinced. "But the two of you at the party a few days ago-,"

      You cut him off. "Nikolai. I promise that there is nothing romantic going on with Ivan and I. And besides, I don't think I'm anywhere near his type."

      "Ivan likes men, Nikolai," you supplied, sensing his confusion. "Honestly, you need to keep up with gossip - he and Fedyor have been going strong for nearly three months now."

      "Oh," Nikolai said.

      "Yeah, oh."

      "And, uh, do you? Like men, I mean?" 

      You bit back another laugh. "Yes, I do. One man in particular, actually." 

      "Is that so? Care to clue me in on who this man is?"

      "You." 

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Nikolai's pov

"You."

      As soon as that single word came out of your mouth, Nikolai's brain short-circuited, and several alarms blared in his mind. ALERT! ALERT! THE PERSON YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH LIKES YOU BACK! 

      He was too stunned to speak, which was definitely a first. So, naturally, he didn't speak, but instead leaned in to kiss you. His lips brushed chastely against yours. A pause. 

      "I- I'm really sorry, Y/n, I should have asked beforehand-,"

      "Nikolai." you took his face in your hands. "Shut up." 

      And then you kissed him, and if his brain had been short-circuiting before, this was a full blown system failure. Sparks flew inside of him, and he was acutely aware of you and you only. It was a wonderful feeling, one that he immediately missed when you pulled away.

      "Wow," you said. 

      He grinned. "I'm that good of a kisser, huh?"

      When usually you would come up with a witty response, you just smiled. It was a smile Nikolai was pretty sure he'd die to see again. 

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Falling in love with Nikolai had been a long process. Your simple crush developed into something deeper like a leaky faucet dripping - slowly, but steadily. And then the realisation that you were in love with him hit you like a tidal wave. Drowning you, consuming every inch of your being, but not necessarily in a bad way.

       You came to your epiphany while laying awake in bed one night after a whole day spent with the esteemed King of Ravka. It was a wonder that you'd managed to spend a whole 10 hours or so in his company without getting fed up, Tamar had teased. He did annoy you - and had today - but you bullied him back plenty enough. It was easy being with him. Easier than you were used to. 

       You loved the way his eyes sparkled after correcting someone on their use of the word 'impossible'. Loved how he devoted himself to his country so selflessly. Loved how he smiled at you so genuinely and lovingly, even when you didn't have the energy to show your love in return after a bad day. Saints, you loved him so, so much, and you were so in love with him, too, and-

       Holy shit. You were in love with Nikolai.

       You were in love. With Nikolai.

       A childish giggle bubbled up inside of you, and you sighed happily. What a feeling it was to be in love with the King of Ravka, even if he didn't know it yet. 

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

You twirled a small flower around in your hands as you walked side by side with Nikolai, your shoulders brushing occasionally. The taller blades of grass tickled your ankles, and a gentle breeze weaved through your hair. The sun peeked out from behind a few clouds, warming your face.

     Nikolai intertwined your fingers, sighing in content. He craned back his neck to meet the sunshine, eyes fluttering shut. He looked stunning, just standing there with his almost otherworldly beauty as light spilled over his fine features, highlighting every detail.

     "I'm in love with you," you blurted suddenly. "I love you, and I'm also in love with you, so. Yeah. I'm in love with you, Nikolai Lantsov."

     You gave yourself a mental round of applause for your eloquence and tact.

      He blinked. "Oh." The ghost of a smile appeared on his face, turning into a full-fledged grin when he finally processed your words. "Oh. I'm... I'm in love with you, too, Y/n L/n."

      You beamed back at him, and cupped his face in your hands. You gently ran your fingers against his cheeks, tracing a line down to the base of his chest. The fabric of his shirt was thin and soft, unlike the suffocating material his suits were made of. Lovingly, he wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled you close. Your heart fluttered. Saints, you adored Nikolai. More than you could put into words. 

      "I love you," you whispered. "I love you so much, so intensely that it consumes me, and I'm drowning in it. But instead of it being hard to breathe, it makes breathing easier. It makes everything easier." 

      You interrupted your little speech by kissing him, just because it felt appropriate, and continued. "I was so lost without you, Nikolai. I didn't realise it, because as I've proved time and time again, I'm more than capable of holding my own-" you smirked as he rolled his eyes at the jab to his overprotectiveness "-but I was. I was a boat lost at sea, floating around in the waves, with no destination and no goal except surviving. Then you came along, and gave me solace. You were my salvation. You and your endearingly stupid jokes and your wild yet grounded behaviour. You're my anchor, Nikolai." 

      He laughed, but not in the mean way. In the happy way. 

      "I would pay you back with a monologue of my own," he said. "but all I can think of right now is how perfect you are, and how much I want to kiss you."

      Your smile widened, if that were even possible. You met him midway, lips connecting almost desperately. The only coherent thought running through your brain was 'Nikolai, Nikolai, Nikolai.'

      Nikolai.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

"That one looks like a dragon," you said, pointing out a lumpy cloud in the sky.

      Nikolai tilted his head to the left. It was rather cute - he looked like a puppy, trying to figure out what its owner was saying. His right eyebrow curved in an upward arch (you still had no idea how he managed to raise a single eyebrow at a time), and he pouted slightly. Adorable.

      "I don't see it," he deadpanned.

      You sighed and shook your head, dismissing the cute puppy ideology. "Nevermind," you huffed. As hard as you tried to pretend you were upset with him, a smile teased at the corners of your mouth, anyway.

      "I'm sorry, darling, but I really don't!" he exclaimed, flopping back into the picnic blanket you two had laid out. Really, it wasn't even a picnic blanket. It was just a blanket. The two of you hadn't had time to find a proper one before embarking on your impromptu picnic. Nikolai, ever the improviser, had then brandished a quilt from Saints knew where. You suspected it came from Vasily's room, because who else would be pompous enough to own a red velvet blanket the size of China?

      You dramatically exhaled again. "I already said nevermind. Not all of us can be blessed with a creative vision such as mine, after all."

      Nikolai laughed. And Saints, the sound was downright melodic. You didn't even want to begin thinking about all the things you'd do to hear it one more time.

      A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Eventually, he began stroking your palm with his callouses fingers. You bit back a smile, and linked your pinkies together. A gathering of clouds mostly covered the sun - enough to allow only a bit of warm, gold light to seep out. You wondered briefly how Nikolai looked right now, basking underneath the faint sunshine. 

      The answer came to you easily, even without looking at him: fucking beautiful. 

      However, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of staring at him. The last time he had caught you gaping at him like a lovesick fool, he had teased you endlessly. It was ridiculous. It wasn't as if he didn't stare at you. No, actually. He stared at you all the time. In fact, he was doing it right now.

      You bit back a grin when you felt his eyes on you. But before you could tease him for it, he got up suddenly, offering you a hand.

      "Come on," he urged. "Follow me."

      "Where to?" you questioned curiously.

      He smirked. Tugged on your hand. Winked. "You'll see." 

      "Right, that's not cryptic at all," you muttered. 

      Eventually, after a minute or so of walking (and plenty of you trying to weasel more information out of him) the two of you had seemed to reach your destination. A huge tree hung above you, offering its shade. You plopped down, but Nikolai remained standing.

      Strangely, he was looking rather nervous. Repeatedly tugging at the collar of his beige button-up shirt, and kicking at the grass. 

      "Y/n, darling, don't just sit there, you're making me nervous," he whined. 

      You giggled, but stood up anyway. "I could say the same about you. What's on your mind, dear?"

      He took a deep breath, and looked you dead in the eyes. "I love you, Y/n. I love you, and I'm in love with you. I always have, and always have been. It's just- you're wonderful. And intelligent. And charming. And I am so, so glad you are my partner - in the romantic sense, and the platonic sense. If I'm being honest, I'm quite sure I'd be tearing at the seams without you to sew me back together every time I do something particularly foolish. 

      And I hope you'll always be there to ground me. Because I will always be there for you. Th-there's no other way to say this, my darling, but I'd quite like to spend the rest of my life with you, so..."

      He brandished a dark blue box from his back pocket (this probably wasn't the time, but you had to mention that you could never fit something that large in your pocket. Why did men's clothing always have bigger pockets?) and got down on one knee. 

      "Will you do me the honour of marrying me, Y/n?" he finished.

      Holy fuck. Holy mother of Saints. Holy everything. Was this real? Saints. This really was real, wasn't it? Nikolai Lantsov was proposing to you.

      A sob escaped from your throat, and you nodded frantically, not wanting him to think you were upset. "Yes," you said. "Saints, Nikolai, yes."

      He smiled. You knew that he smiled a lot, but this smile was different. Usually, he just grinned or smirked in a devilish way - this was more of a beam. He looked so genuinely happy (genuinely happy, because of you!) that it made your heart soar, and you were pretty sure you fell in love with him all over again for the second time. You'd never get tired of it, though. Not when it came to Nikolai (Nikolai, your husband-to-be!). Never when it came to Nikolai.

      You soon found yourself enveloped in a hug. He spun you around, both of you laughing (and crying). When he set you down, you could have sworn you saw his eyes welling up.

      "Now, my love, those better be happy tears," he tutted.

      "Of course they're happy tears, you stupid puppy dog!" you sniffed. "I love you."

      He beamed into your hair. "I love you, too, Y/n."

      What a feeling it was to be in love with Nikolai Lantsov, and to know that he was in love with you, too.

[nishiannoya]

ᴋɪssɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ sᴛᴜғғ (ᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ sᴇʀɪᴇs)

ft. (Kenma) (Atsumu) (Kita) (Noya) (SUGA)

gn!reader x sugawara koushi, language, borderline sfw, very suggestive (1.3k word count)

۞  He obviously likes you a lot too, so it confuses you as to why he hasn't made a move on you.

(part 1)

Dating Sugawara is pretty much exactly how you fantasized when you were back in high school: going to trendy cafe’s, taking lots of pictures at the zoo, him being nice and funny, and all around just enjoying each other’s company as you get to know one another. By the 5th date you already know all the names of his problem students and he knows of most of your friends by moniker

You text a lot when you can’t meet up. You live in different cities, but honestly you like the distance for now. Your last relationship left you feeling void of independence, so you’re happy to take things nice and slow with Suga. 

However, one aspect of your relationship seems to not be moving at all. You’ve been dating for almost 3 months now and you two still haven’t kissed!

You like him a lot, and just like Sawamura said, he's pretty normal despite his dramatics at the reunion. Though you did mention one time that your last relationship wasn’t so great and Suga-san looked like he was going to murder someone. He obviously likes you a lot too, so it confuses you as to why he hasn't made a move on you.

That was what you thought, at least. He looks particularly handsome tonight with his hair slicked back (ever since you mentioned you like it like that) and his crisp white button down paired with a deep purple paisley tie. Every time you look at him, you find yourself focusing on his lips and getting distracted by plotting to capture them. The more time goes on, the more you stress out over the perfect moment to do it.

As you get ready to meet up with him, this time he's coming to you, you tell yourself that you're gonna do it. Just grab him and kiss him sometime before the date is over. No big deal. You're both grown up, experienced adults, so what's a small kiss?

Nearing the end of your dinner date, Sugawara walks you back to your apartment building. Usually you say goodbye at the bottom of the stairs, but you haven't quite worked up the courage to plant one on him, and hope you can find it in the next 3 minutes. You feel your face warm up as you ask him to walk you to your door, making up some excuse about a weird neighbor. He innocently agrees, almost making you feel like a creep for wanting to make a move on him.

"So, I'll see you next week?" He says with a smile once you reach your door. You bite the inside of your lip and and look at him long and hard before taking a deep breath. 

"Is everything okay?" He asks, eyebrows knit in concern but quickly shoot up when you take a step towards him and grab him by the tie, pulling his face only inches from yours.

You watch as his face goes from clueless to clued-in within a second. Suddenly his eyes go dark, his shoulders straighten, and a playful smirk graces his lips that you keep eyeing. 

"Oh? Are you going to kiss me?" He says teasingly, making you flush at his change in demeanor. He's been nothing but polite and pleasant with you, so to see his cheeky side is kind of hot.

"Thinking about it," you say as if your heart isn't flopping around inside your chest like a fish.

"So have I," he says smoothly as he catches your chin with his index finger and thumb, causing you to feel a tickling heat in your ears. 

"Then what's been taking you so long?" You muse, trying to match his suave tone, but slowly feel yourself getting pulled in by his gravity.

He chuckles and it's just so....sexy? You've been so charmed by his kindness and refreshing nature that you overlooked the confidence underneath it all. Your breath feels heavier under his unbreakable gaze into your eyes. He places his other hand on your hip and pulls you in closer, leaning his mouth to your ear. 

"If I do, I won't be able to hold back."

A shiver runs up your back at his words. Suga lifts his head up to see your face, brows pulling together in pain from the sudden need you feel in your chest, eyes lidded and hazy wantonly, and lips parted in want of his. The pad of his thumb strokes the corner of your lip as you see him struggle for just a moment.

"Please?" You say meekly.

And that's all it takes. It's soft and sweet for all but a second before his hand moves from your chin to the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair while his other arm snakes around you, pulling you deep into a kiss that has you moaning into his mouth. So fast, but certainly not unwelcome. His tongue is already wrestling against yours as your hands let go of their grip on his tie and undo the top two buttons of his shirt, slipping your fingers under his collar and behind his neck to gently claw at his skin.

Slowly you back up from the force of his want until you feel your front door pressed against your back. His hands are now on your waist, fingers gripping the flesh of your back as he forces his knee between your legs to press himself even closer to you. Teeth nip and bite at your bottom lip making you whimper with each sensation. You gasp when his lips leave yours and then immediately starts placing indiscriminate kisses and licks all along side your neck.

His little praises of how pretty you look and how cute you sound practically have your eyes rolling back into your head as he whispers them in into your ear. You lift your leg that isn't trapped by his and hook it around his thigh, slowly rolling your hips against him as he kisses you again. His hands massage their way down your waist to your ass, grabbing it and pulling your lower half further up his leg to help you work yourself more against him.

"Fuck, you're so good and needy for me," he curses when he pulls back to see your face completely flushed, lips shining in his saliva, and eyes completely glossed over in lust. His hands let go of your bottom and come up to stroke the side of your cheek so sweetly. He chuckles at how good of a job he did at getting you worked up as you're already trying to pull his face back to you.

He continues to look at you for a few more seconds before letting out a huff and releasing his hold on you. You hum a little groan at the space between you, but you wait for his move, completely at his will as your entire body feels like it's going to collapse if you don't get him back on you in the next 20 seconds.

He leans in again and places a short, sweet kiss on your lips, the kind that would be more suitable for a first kiss than a heated make out session. You sigh a dreamy breathy sigh when you open your eyes after he moves back.

Just as you find your voice to ask him to wait while you dig out your apartment key, he places another kiss on top of your forehead.

"I'll see you next week," he says, and you nearly cry out in disappointment. 

He smiles at you as you struggle to speak through your frustration, knowing exactly how he's leaving you. He takes off with an innocent wave as you're left clutching your hands to your chest against your door.

Liar liar liar liar liar, is all you can think as you fumble with your keys. He definitely was able to hold back.

ADULT CONTENT BLOG - Minors / Ageless & Blank Blogs are allowed to like and comment on this post, but please refrain from reblogging, and ABSOLUTELY DO NOT FOLLOW OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

[wellthatsjustpeachyhuh]

How the Sanders Sides f*ck

Disclaimers: All characters, including the reader, are fictional and depicted as 18+, so DNI if you're underage or do not want to see explicit content (if you still read this and then get pissed at me that's your own fault)

Roman

In my opinion Roman would be more vanilla, since he tends to focus more on romance and wooing, but he's always down for experimentation

He is super into roleplay!! And since he's out exploring and fighting all day homeboy has plenty of stamina, so expect to go for a long time

Will dress you up in nice clothes so you can look pretty as he wrecks you

His one kink he's embarrassed about is wanting to be tied up since it doesn't fit with his Princely aesthetic, but hooo boy if you tie him up and ride him he will nut

Patton

Listen I know he's canonically super innocent but I cannot get giggly soft daddy dom Pat out of my brain, just this big cuddly guy snuggling you as he's balls deep inside

Kisses, lots of kisses, sweet and slobbery and a little suffocating

Loves holding your face and complimenting you, maybe slipping his hands down to slot around your neck

Has a pretty big overstimulation kink, wants to see how long it takes to turn you into a babbling mess

Logan

I know damn well this man is into bondage, probably discipline as well

Completely unyielding. No matter how much you squirm and cry if you haven't safe-worded you're not getting out of this, not until you've both cum

Super hard dom, you will listen to him and you will listen now or face punishment

He's hilariously awkward afterwards, but willing to cuddle or do something softer if you're not in the mood for rough

Virgil

As soon as he discovered that fucking got rid of all that anxious energy, it was over for you

A big whiner with a mommy/daddy kink a mile wide, he physically likes to be in control but needs you to praise him

Is super embarrassed by all of it, but especially by his ass-eating kink

I can also see him being into high sex, he enjoys anything that'll chill him out

Janus

Okay, hear me out - chastity devices. Specifically ones where he can still fuck you, you just can't cum

Will edge you for days if needed, waiting for you to finally crack and beg

In general I can see him being a big fan of toys, trying to stuff you full with as many as he can and leave you writhing, unable to get off but pushed right to the brink

Is somewhat into roleplay, loving to play the suave, charming villain ready to take you apart piece by piece

Remus

This guy is into absolutely everything, he'll try it all at least once

Piss, spit, slime, tentacles, electrostimulation, public sex - he's filthy and so far you haven't found anything he isn't down for

Specifically he's into making a mess, of leaving you glossy-eyed and incoherent as he covers you in whatever will get a reaction

Naturally he's also a roleplay fan, loving to fake-kidnap you and hold you hostage, pretending to do whatever it takes to get information out of you

[crimson-kisses]

{Yandere! Allies & Axis! x F! Reader: God au}

<The allies part is done separately>

N.Italy- God of Architecture, Art & Poetry.

The deity of thriving creativity, Feliciano loves imagining and creating his stuff with a great loving passion.

He would often romanticize your first encounter with him, describing it as a love at first sight and many other poetic and aesthetic elements.

Would paint stuff and make dozens of poems dedicated for you.

Feliciano is a rather carefree and enjoyable deity that many people adore everything about him.

He would be incredibly clingy and infatuated with you, caressing your hair and stroking your cheeks cooing romantic words.

He might not be the strongest but he has a lot of influences, he can be manipulative and won’t hesitate using his emotions to guilt trip you.

Your strength would rather intimidate him, hence why he would use his more charming and intellectual aspects.

Once he gets you though, he’s so teasing and just plain annoying altogether, he knows you are pissed and kinda enjoys it.

Bright, vivid and pastel colors swirled around over the fancy architecture of the castle. It seemed to show a story that you didn’t bother to interpret.

The pastel gown hugged your curves and barely covered you much, it was pretty to look at although you felt similar to a doll being dressed up. Your hair was in a bun adorned with pearls, all this just for a dinner.

Feliciano smiled widely at your reflection and traced his fingers down your bare back which he knew would make you shiver, no matter how much he acted so childish and innocent.

“The most wonderful things are always hidden from the seeing eyes, no wonder it took so long for me too see you my love, but I could still feel that you would come eventually”,

You internally rolled your eyes at his usual ramblings although it somewhat made you blush and feel charmed, he was still the man who managed to pull some strings to capture you in his grasps.

Just to have you as his personal antique piece.

S.Italy- God of Fortune & Festivals.

Another hard deity to please, although Lovino is a pretty suave and a flirt with the ladies, he is not an easy person to bargain with.

He is very temperamental and can be suspicious of your intentions because of his own insecurities.

So be ready for arguments and emotional outbursts, it will get very tiring quickly.

Lovino does make up for it though by being romantic and taking you out on expensive dates or one of many festivals.

He will shower you with many gifts and show you off to everyone, he won’t tolerate any attitude from anyone else or from your side.

Guilt trips you often and manipulative with your own insecurities.

Laughter and music echoed through the village, people wore bright and vibrant clothes as they dances around with each other, of course they would be happy. The village was celebrating one of its many festivals.

Not that you wanted to be here, preferably somewhere quite would have sufficed but of course, Lovino had to drag you away and make you suffer.

Shivers went down your spine as a hand snaked its way around your waist. Breathing nervously, you slowly turned your head towards Lovino, who smirked at your frown and huskily whispered to you, his words effortlessly silky.

“Let’s enjoy ourselves Farfallina, we are going to have a lot of fun tonight”,

Gulping as you understood the hidden meaning, you groaned internally.

Japan: God of the Wind.

Pretty much isolated himself, Kiku would be very understanding and give you your space.

Obviously he would be stalking and sneaking up on you, trying to know everything that you do.

He can be very obsessive and can get pretty creative on how to capture you or make you fall into his traps.

You won't even realise he truly is obsessed with you until your caught and tied on his bed.

He's a lewd person, but won't bother you much with his perverse advances.

Not a good person to anger at all, you will probably end up getting swept off your feet.

He’s emotionless expression can also be very uncomfortable and just plain weird, he can stare at you for hours.

Definitely uses the wind to navigate you or spy on you. (He’s a creep lol)

Tries to be romantic but comes off as very formal and stiffed.

He was looking over you again.

Definitely not stalking you or sneaking up on you, he was just keeping an eye on his precious little blossom. Sure, he knew you were a strong person but nonetheless one cannot be too sure and must be cautious, right?

"You are truly so...... mystical",

He whispered softly, making sure his voice was carried away by the wind although you swore that the wind seemed to howl around you.

Germany: God of the Ocean.

Just like the ocean, Ludwig is very powerful, unpredictable and can be ruthless when needed.

Although young, he has been raised and mentored strictly well by his father and then his brother, no matter who takes an interest in you; these both would work together to claim you.

Like everyone else, Ludwig is very curious about you and researches what he can as well as interrogate others.

He’s a gentleman and a bit awkward when he meets you, but won’t be intimidated and let you get the best of him, he very much admires your strength and would love to see you in action. (Ludwig is a sucker for strong women)

Mostly because he knows he has the most strongest elements under his control so he would love to see you try to escape him or defy him.

Much like Japan he would understand and respect your decisions but wouldn’t care too much about it.

Would love to show you his unique underwater creatures and all the sceneries, would give you an ability to breathe underwater (or take it away if you attempt to escape or turn you into a sea creature- like a mermaid or an octomer)

Ludwig is not necessarily romantic but would still give the most precious treasures as a gift, they could he enchanted so watch out for that-

He can be merciless and drown an entire island with his anger or cause a huge storm, it’s pretty haunting more so for mortals. But is also very loyal to those who serve him.

Ludwig will sympathize with you over your domains and let you his help if it’s necessary, you both do control part of the nature after all.

The ocean hugged your curves as you swam around with the bright neon fishes, looking at the bright blue sky and couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the looming domain over you.

The ocean seemed almost endless and suffocating that you couldn’t help but feel a tremendous sense of dread on your chest. How could you be free?

It felt childish really, to still believe that there was a chance of escaping. All the deities have made you feel fatigued and very much troubled, you just wanted to rest after everything.

But you couldn’t, whatever peace you had left has been destroyed and you couldn’t go back to the life you had.

Ludwig’s grip was strong on you as he pulled you down slowly by your tail he had transformed your legs into for the time being. You forgot you didn’t had to hold your breath as he softly smirked at your puffed face.

“You truly are so amusing and the most precious pearl the ocean could have mädchen”.

Prussia: God of Death.

Many do fear death itself whether they deny they do so, its something that is inevitable. For everything and everyone.

So obviously Gilbert, the one who rules the realms of the afterlife with an iron fist is feared or intimidating to most.

When he takes an interest in you, he has certain privileges. Gilbert can summon the souls of the past deities and can get much needed information or advice when it comes to you.

Gilbert is very charming and alluring to everyone, one of the deities who gives respect and is pretty merciful to the mortals especially the younger or the more older ones.

Of course he is still strict with his own duties and obligations, he has his limits and makes sure it is clear to everyone. No mercy to those who defy him despite knowing the rules.

He is chill most of the time tbh but his experiences and responsibilities demand his virtues to be put in use. Gilbert might joke around sometimes but when he is not joking around, it’s pretty evident.

Is very respectful and patient towards you, he will give you your privacy but would have strict rules that you must obey or certain duties you must at least try to do so.

He doesn’t have much to show that wouldn’t make your blood run cold or make your skin crawl.

Any living being would break mentally upon witnessing what happens to the undead or any of the terrifying creatures that roam his domains.

He would appreciate a very resilient darling but if you are too much of a trouble, he will make sure to deal with your attitude.

Gilbert has a way with words and can pretty much manipulate you if he wants too; he just opts to charm you in the beginning.

If he snaps tho, then it will be frightening for everyone involved. Gilbert is also very powerful and strategic so good luck with fighting against him.

Not the worst yandere to have but it’s mostly because even if you do run away or reach the farthest place possible, in the end he will have you come to him anyway.

Especially if you are a mortal, you cannot outrun death, no matter who or what you are. Waiting several years till you pass away? Nothing to him really, yes it’s lonely without you but he’s very patient and doesn’t worry much.

Will send some spirits to haunt your ass or those who trouble you.

Cold.

The cold atmosphere clutched you in its grasp, making you rooted on the spot you stood on.

The robe you had worn did nothing to stop the air from nipping your skin, the gloomy domain was often cold anyways making you dearly miss your domains.

Marching sounds in the distance broke you out of your trance as the maids and butlers ran about for one reason or another. Maybe they were poor unfortunate souls who belonged to no realm at all.

Suddenly warmth adorned you as a heavy blue coat was placed over your shoulders, yet you got goosebumps. Maybe it was because Gilbert was here, his presence demanded respect and he was pretty intimidating.

You couldn’t help but hug yourself to calm your nerves, the silverette quietly gave you a peck on your cheeks making you slightly blush.

“Somehow..... you make my heart feel warmth it had been deprived of”.

Again you couldn’t help but look straight into his eyes as he lifted your chin up and embraced you, his touch making you feel weaker yet warmer than the blue flames adorning the candles.

Even if you are very powerful there’s no denying that it will be tough to fight against several powerful deities.

Not to mention most if them would have connections to other deities who won’t hesitate to help them. Which if you did most likely isolate yourself is pretty hard for you to deal with.

Katyusha & Natalya are Ivan’s siblings and would definitely help him; same with Antonio & Emma, they will help Lovino having raised him together. Erzsebeta won’t mind helping Ludwig & Gilbert, although Roderick & Vash would be stubborn they will come around to it. Lily won’t hesitate helping them either.

Francis & Feliciano have nice relations with almost everyone; Monaco would help them because they can be annoying while Seychelles would give some help too. Felix would gladly help Feliciano.

Arthur has his siblings who would help him for a price, they wont do much tbh just to get on his nerves.

Of course this depends if their relations are nice nice currently or they are equally messed up in the head. But angering these deities would be disastrous so in the end they don’t have much choice.

<the Allie’s part is separate>

A/N: This was very corny I am sorry, I have more things I will definitely post over here, I am just going through some stuff at the moment- i think i went astray from what the original ask went. I apologize for that, hope you liked it @yandere-dark-cupid 🥰

I managed to write this between my studying sessions lol

Thank you for your patience & reading!