#i always worry this sounds harsher than i mean

[i-heart-ts-i-mean-tx]

Whenever gay Americans get angry abt what our government is doing to Palestinians, there's always someone who loves to be like "Who's gonna tell these dummies homosexuality is illegal in Gaza?"

That's crazy to me.

I'm a gay Texan in my mid 20s. When I was a little kid, homosexuality was illegal.** Here in Texas, where I lived and where I still happily live.

So (TW "war" crimes) I guess it would've been fair enough if the U.S. and Israel had bombed me and my family and neighbors, our houses and jobsites and whole communities, the girls I played with down the street, my baby brothers, the trans Texans who used to meet up downtown in the city, etc. -- If they had deliberately driven us out of our homes and forced us to live in terror every night and every day, maiming our children, burning our parents alive, cutting off our food and water, starving us and telling us point blank that we needed to be scrubbed off the face of the earth so they could take everything we have and not worry about keeping it.

I mean, damn I guess we would've had it coming. Homosexuality wasn't even legal, right? Sounds like a Texas problem. What do I care what the gov spends all that $$$$$ doing?

**Just to be clear, gay sex between men was a crime in Texas until 2003 (when I was definitely kicking around, painting my nails with red markers and eating bugs). If I wanted to see penalties that were exactly the same as (or often harsher than) what's been left on the books in Gaza (and sometimes ? enforced), I just have to go back one generation to my parents' lifetime, when men were getting 10 years in prison and, unlike in Palestine, police forces were setting up sting operations to actively crack down on the gay problem (again, smth that doesn't even happen in Gaza). This is not, like, a weird feature of some "foreign" culture to me, and it really shouldn't be for any American who isn't super young or who knows her history.

That doesn't make it right (at all), but you can't believe the lie that "these people aren't like you". That's actually insane. Pretending this has any relevance to the genocide that's happening other than to say that queer Palestinians are even more impacted by the genocide is crazy and disgusting.

I don't need to add this, but just for some perspective, Palestinians in the West Bank took their anti-gay laws off the books in the early 1950s, at the same time basically all U.S. states were creating new laws specifically targeting gay ppl and categorizing gay sex as a felony with harsh prison sentences. The laws in Gaza are definitely not good for gay and trans Gazans -- their protection isn't covered under the freedoms and human rights which are guaranteed by the Palestinian constitution, and stigma is very real. This is wrong, but obv genocide makes it a million times worse and is infinitely more horrible for all Palestinians, queer and straight.

Nobody living in the "Anglo-sphere" can even act like this is the product of some "weird foreign culture" -- these laws were imposed by the British Empire on occupied Palestine in the 1930s and then left on the books. Palestinians are not "the Other", and there's a good reason so many lgbt people see right through this bullshit.

We've seen the same politicians who weaponize "family values" condemn families to death to line their own pockets. We've heard "save the children" from people happy to condemn children to the horrors of genocide.

Even when bought-out politicians defend our gay rights, they'll still drop bombs on our mangled gay bodies.

[xo100]

Shifting gears - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando and you, childhood best friends, discover a deeper connection during a drive in his new Porsche. After discussing his playboy image, the conversation takes an unexpected turn, leading to a realization of long-hidden feelings and shifting your relationship from friendship to something more romantic and intimate.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2250

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The afternoon sun filtered through the tall trees that lined the road, casting dappled shadows over the sleek Porsche as it cruised effortlessly along the winding asphalt. The roar of the engine was almost hypnotic, a perfect blend of power and control, much like its owner. Lando Norris gripped the steering wheel with ease, his fingers drumming absentmindedly as he glanced over at his passenger—his best friend, someone who had been by his side since they were kids.

While Lando had built a reputation for himself as a playboy—charming, confident, and always with a new girl on his arm—you were the complete opposite. Introverted, quiet, and shy. But that’s what made your friendship so special. You balanced each other out.

Today, though, something felt a little different. Maybe it was the car, the air of freedom and luxury it represented, or maybe it was the conversation you were having that shifted the mood. Either way, the usual playful banter between the two of you had taken a slightly more serious turn.

“So, who’s the flavor of the week this time?” you teased, your voice light but carrying a hint of genuine curiosity as you shifted in the leather seat.

Lando chuckled, a low, throaty sound that seemed to vibrate through the car. “Not sure yet. You know how it is,” he replied with a smirk, his eyes never leaving the road.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no judgment in your expression. “Yeah, I know exactly how it is. You with some random girl, one night, maybe two if she’s lucky, and then you’re off to the next. It’s like you’re collecting trophies or something.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that bad. I’m just… having fun. Life’s short, you know?”

You snorted softly. “For you, maybe. I can’t even imagine doing that. Just… being with someone like that, without any meaning. Doesn’t it get old?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, finally glancing over at you. “Why, you thinking about trying it out?” he teased, though his tone carried a hint of something deeper, something that wasn’t quite a joke.

Your face flushed, and you quickly turned to look out the window, trying to hide the sudden rush of heat that crept up your neck. “No,” you muttered, “I’m not like that.”

Silence filled the car for a moment, the hum of the engine the only sound between you. Lando’s eyes flickered back to the road, but his expression was thoughtful now, less playful than usual. “You don’t always have to be so… sweet, you know,” he said after a beat, his voice quieter, almost serious. “It’s okay to let loose sometimes. It doesn’t make you any less… you.”

You blinked, surprised by his words. He wasn’t wrong; you were the “sweet” one, the one who always cared too much, worried too much. But hearing Lando say it so bluntly made you feel strangely vulnerable, like he could see right through your carefully crafted exterior.

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who’s constantly in the tabloids for having one-night stands with half the population,” you shot back, the words harsher than you intended.

Lando laughed, though there was a sharpness to it. “Touché. But you know, it’s not as glamorous as people make it out to be.”

You frowned, turning back to him. “What do you mean? You always seem like you’re having the time of your life.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it’s fun, I guess. But it’s not… real, you know? It’s just… I don’t know. It’s easy. I’m used to it.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You had never heard him talk like this before, so openly about the lifestyle he had embraced. It wasn’t like him to get deep, not about this.

“Then why do you keep doing it?” you asked quietly.

Lando glanced at you, and for the first time, you saw something different in his eyes. Something almost… uncertain.

“Because it’s easier than thinking about what I really want,” he said softly.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and loaded with meaning. You swallowed, unsure of how to respond, your heart suddenly racing for reasons you couldn’t quite explain.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled the car off the main road, slowing down as he drove into a secluded spot overlooking a lake. The car came to a stop, and the silence that followed was deafening. He turned off the engine, and the two of you sat there, the tension in the air thick and palpable.

“I mean…” Lando began, his voice low, almost hesitant, “I’ve been with a lot of girls, sure. But none of them were ever you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “What?”

He turned in his seat to face you fully, his expression serious now, his usual cocky smirk replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. “You. You’re different. You always have been.”

Your mind was racing, trying to process his words, but all you could focus on was the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“But we’re… friends,” you stammered, your voice shaky.

“I know,” Lando said, his gaze never leaving yours. “And that’s why I’ve never said anything before. But… I don’t know. Lately, it feels like things have changed. Like maybe we’ve changed.”

You didn’t know what to say. You had always been close to Lando, but you had never let yourself think about him like that. He was Lando—the charismatic, carefree playboy who was always with someone else. But now, sitting here in the quiet of his car, it was hard to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest, the way his words made your stomach flip.

“I…” you started, but you didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

Lando leaned closer, his hand coming to rest on the edge of your seat, his eyes searching yours for some kind of answer, some kind of sign. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “And I will.”

But you didn’t tell him to stop. You couldn’t.

Instead, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss. It was slow at first, hesitant, like neither of you were quite sure if this was really happening. But then something shifted. The kiss deepened, and suddenly it was like everything that had been simmering under the surface for years had finally come to a head.

Lando’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with more urgency. You could feel the heat of his body, the way his heart was racing just as fast as yours. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and before you knew it, you were climbing over the center console, straddling him as the kiss grew more heated, more desperate.

You had never done anything like this before—never been this close to someone, never let yourself be this vulnerable. But with Lando, it felt… right. Like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

His hands roamed over your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You gasped as he kissed a trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “Lando,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and intense as he looked up at you. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough, barely controlled.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yes.”

The next few moments were a blur of tangled limbs and heated kisses, the world outside the car fading into nothing as you lost yourself in him, in the way he made you feel. It wasn’t rushed or careless like you had imagined his one-night stands might be. It was slow, deliberate, and full of a kind of intensity you had never experienced before.

And then, just as quickly as it had started, it was over. You found yourself lying in his arms, the cool leather of the seat beneath you, your breathing still ragged as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Lando’s hand stroked your hair gently, his touch comforting, grounding. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern.

You nodded, snuggling closer to him. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m okay.”

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The sun had begun to set, casting a golden glow over the lake, and the quiet between you was no longer filled with tension, but with a kind of contentment you hadn’t expected.

Finally, Lando broke the silence. “You know… I didn’t plan for this to happen,” he said, his voice low. “But I’m glad it did.”

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. “Me too.”

He shifted beneath you, turning slightly so he could look down at you. “So… what does this mean for us?”

You thought about it for a moment, your mind still spinning from everything that had just happened. But when you looked up into his eyes, you knew the answer.

“It means… maybe we’ve changed,” you said quietly, echoing his words from earlier.

Lando smiled, a real, genuine smile that made your heart

skip a beat. He cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made your stomach flutter.

“I guess we have,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. It was such a simple gesture, but it held a weight of everything unspoken between you. Years of friendship, of shared memories, of teasing and laughter—all of it led to this moment. The line you’d been dancing on for so long had finally blurred, and neither of you could deny it anymore.

For a while, you just lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, basking in the comfortable silence that followed. The world outside the car seemed distant, irrelevant. It was just you and Lando now, and that felt right.

Eventually, though, the practicalities of life started to creep back in, and you couldn’t ignore them forever. You shifted slightly, sitting up in the seat, the reality of what had just happened slowly settling in.

“So… what now?” you asked, your voice quiet, as if speaking too loudly would break the fragile newness of what had just formed between you.

Lando sat up too, his hand still resting on your thigh, a small, reassuring gesture. He looked at you thoughtfully, as if considering his words carefully. “I don’t want this to be some random, one-time thing,” he said slowly, his voice steady. “You’re not like those girls. You’ve never been. I don’t want to screw this up.”

You smiled softly, feeling your heart swell at his words. “I don’t want that either,” you admitted. “I’ve never thought of us like this before… but now, I can’t imagine it any other way.”

His eyes softened as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, more tender, as if sealing the promise between you. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your lips.

“I’ve liked you for a long time,” Lando confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Your heart skipped again, but this time it wasn’t from nerves—it was from the overwhelming realization that you felt the same way. Maybe you’d always felt it, buried somewhere deep down.

“I think I’ve always liked you too,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing slightly at the confession.

Lando’s smile widened, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of relief and joy. “Good. Because I’m not letting you get away now.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt simple. No more games, no more hiding behind jokes or casual flings. Just you and Lando, finally facing what had been there all along.

The sun was almost set now, casting a soft orange glow over the lake as the two of you sat there, side by side, in the quiet of the Porsche. The future felt uncertain in the best way possible, full of possibilities and new beginnings.

Lando gave your hand a squeeze, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You know,” he said, a teasing glint in his eye, “I think this Porsche might be my new lucky charm.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Of course you would say that.”

He grinned, that familiar cocky smile back in full force, but this time it was softened by something else—something deeper, more real. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll take you home. But tomorrow… maybe we can go for another drive?”

You nodded, your heart light as you leaned over to kiss him one more time. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

As Lando started the car and pulled back onto the road, you couldn’t help but glance over at him, your best friend—your something more now—and feel grateful for every twist and turn that had led you here.

And as the Porsche sped down the road, the two of you heading into an uncertain future, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

[puppy-stevee]

hold you gently

ftm steve, established steddie. contains detailed descriptions of periods. (ao3)

Steve spends the first day of his period absolutely miserable. His emotions are all over the place. One minute he's this close to lashing out at the first minor inconvenience and the next he's ready to bawl his eyes out.

He knows Robin can tell that something's up. She keeps asking if he's alright and Steve tries to brush it off, tell her he's fine, it's just a little headache, he couldn't sleep last night. But then that sends her into another spiral that makes Steve want to scream and throw something just to get her to be quiet.

Those are mean thoughts, Steve knows, but his body's all out of whack, and his knees and lower back are killing him and he swears he can feel his fucking hips shifting. Add in the cramps that are steadily rolling through his uterus and he's so fucking close to committing homicide.

He's in the stacks, dead-eyed as he stocks the new animated releases, and shifting from foot to foot because now those also hurt and he can feel the beginnings of a migraine that'll have him calling off the next day, and he just wants to go home and lay on the couch with his heating pad and his boyfriend while some shitty TV show plays in the background.

"Steve?" Speak of the devil.

Steve makes a noise of acknowledgement and continues to shelve the tapes. He ignores the pang in his chest that makes him want to reach out and pull Eddie closer and burrow into him.

As if he can read his mind (or tell by the look on his face), Eddie steps closer. "You got Robbie real worried, sweetheart," he says gently, hands in his pockets. Steve can tell he wants to reach out for him the same way he does.

"I'm fine, Eds," Steve says. More like he tries not to snap at the only person who knows about his "condition." He can feel his agitation rising, though, with another wave of cramps that are accompanied by nausea and a sick feeling of something gushing from down there.

"Is that why you look like you wanna blow chunks all over the place right now?"

Steve maybe puts a tape on the shelf a little too hard. "It's been a shit day, Eddie, I really don't need sarcasm right now."

Eddie puts his hands up. "Sorry, sorry." He comes a little closer and lowers his voice. "Talk to me, baby. What's the matter?"

Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's the first day," he mutters behind his hand.

"Hm? I couldn't hear you, Stevie."

"I said–" Steve sighs again, harsher this time, and his hand falls to his side, his gaze firmly locked on the tapes in front of him. "It's the first day, and the first day is always shit. It feels like a rock's sitting in my stomach or something and I can't take more than two steps without feeling like I'm gonna puke."

He doesn't mean to unload it all onto his boyfriend, but he asked for it. His perfect, wonderful boyfriend who takes it all in stride without a single hint of judgement or disgust.

"I'm hormonal as fuck, man, and it’s like customers chose today specifically to be even more annoying than they usually are, like they made it their personal mission or some shit."

Steve looks to the front of the store where Robin is still at the counter and then back at Eddie. "Robin keeps asking me if I'm alright, and I love her, Eds, I really do, but if she keeps it up, I'm gonna end up snapping at her and then she'll cry and that'll make me feel even worse."

Steve takes a deep breath, holds in it for ten seconds, and exhales. "I just need a break," he says, sounding defeated, and so so tired. "I just need to be alone for five minutes, and–"

Eddie, who has been quiet this whole time, like a saint, letting Steve rant until he runs out of steam, tilts his head and looks at him with those big Bambi eyes Steve loves so much.

"And what, Stevie?" he asks gently.

Something in Steve's chest snaps and his bottom lip wobbles before he can stop it. The back of his throat burns like it always does when he's about to cry, and– yep, here come the tears.

He takes a shaky breath and his voice breaks when he says, "I need you."

Eddie's expression falls into something Steve absolutely hates. "Baby–"

Steve clears his throat and the tears are gone as quick as they came, though his eyes are a little red rimmed and shiny.

He shakes his head and waves Eddie off, putting more tapes on the shelves like he didn't just have a mini breakdown in the middle of his shift. "It's fine, Eddie, really. I'll just, I don't know, take a painkiller and tough the next couple hours out."

The tape he's holding is gently taken from him and set on the shelf for him. Eddie levels him with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that really what you want to do?"

Steve bites his lip. He doesn't. Work is the last place he wants to be at today, or this whole week for that matter.

He shakes his head with a soft, "No."

"Okay, then."

Eddie tells him to go grab his things from the break room. Steve is too exhausted to argue. He comes back to the front counter but before Robin can launch into a lengthy apology, Eddie interrupts her with a minute shake of his head.

Steve holds his arms out and pulls her in for a hug anyway.

"I'm sorry for being an ass all day," he says and plants a kiss on the top of her head. He feels awful about keeping this huge of a secret from her, but coming out as bi is one thing. Coming out as trans is a whole different ballgame he isn't willing to play just yet.

Robin hugs him back and kisses his cheek. "I'm sorry for being pushy." She pulls back and takes Steve's hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. "Hope you feel better soon, dingus."

Steve can't leave his car at work overnight so he follows Eddie's van to the trailer. He grabs one of Eddie's pullover hoodies out of his closet once they're inside and a pair of baggy sweatpants before making a beeline for the bathroom to pee and change his pad.

Soon enough, Steve comfortable and cozy on the couch, covered with at least two blankets and even more pillows, his hood pulled over his head and mussing his hair up even more. Eddie's got My Best Friend Is a Vampire playing on the TV, but Steve's saving grace is the heating pad that's covering his waist under the blankets.

Steve groans softly as he's hit with more cramps and shifts his hips against them.

"Here, sweetheart." Eddie comes back from the kitchen and hands him a cup of hot chocolate. He reclaims his spot next to Steve, boxing him between his body and the back of the couch. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," Steve grumps, taking a sip and reaching back to set the mug on the side table. "I'd rather take being gnawed on by demobats than have to deal with these cramps. At least I can see the bats and try to stop them." He winds his arms around Eddie's waist and rests his head on his shoulder.

Eddie crinkles his nose in distaste. "Frankly, babe, I'd rather you not go through either." He rubs his thumb over the skin of Steve's hip. "What's stopping you from using all that government money to pay for your surgery?"

Steve hums and turns his nose into Eddie's neck, smiling against the skin. "I wanna get at least one kid out of you before I do that."

They've talked about this. In length. Eddie was there for the Winnebago conversation. Steve wasn't lying back then, but he's since realized he was wanting all those things with the wrong person.

"Yeah?" Eddie's voice is amused. "You want a couple Harrington spawn running around the trailer park?"

"Nah, was thinking more along the lines of a Munson brat."

Eddie stills against him.

Steve comes out from his hiding spot and grins at the look on his boyfriend's face. He leans up and kisses his cheek. "Did I break your brain on that one, honey?"

Eddie shakes himself out of his stupor and cups Steve's face, pressing him into the couch so he can kiss him silly.

"I'm gonna give you so many Munson brats, baby," he promises between leaving kisses all over Steve's face and Steve's giggles. "You won't even know what hit ya by the time I'm through with you."

Steve guffaws and lets Eddie cover him with kisses and love.

"I'll hold you to that, baby, don't worry."

buy me a ☕?

[sophrosynesworld]

With all my love, pt. 3

Part 3 is finally here and *gasp* lore?!

Do you know how hard it is to escape your top 5 pro-hero ex-boyfriend? His voice plays on my radio during my commute. His image is plastered across the news in the lobby this morning before lunch—he’s acting irrationally again. He’s always been too much of a hothead.

His recent heroic deeds have garnered both admiration and scrutiny. My departure seems to have affected him, causing some of his harsher traits to resurface. I never anticipated that he would notice, let alone react like this.

"I don't care if he's a jerk. Dynamite is one of the best heroes of this generation," I overhear one of the news anchors saying. The radio in the small restaurant makes it hard to miss.

"Dynamite is one bad decision away from killing someone," the woman says, clearly frustrated with her cohost. "I don't even know if it would be on accident."

"He has saved more people this year than Deku. How is that not a hero?" the cohost argues back.

"He's also cost this city thousands of man-hours repairing the damage his blasts created."

I set my tablet down, trying to push their argument out of my head. The familiar chime of bells rings, drawing my gaze to the doorway.

A redhead stands there, his eyes scanning the restaurant until they find mine. His face softens as he makes his way over, pulling out a chair and sitting across from me.

"You look good today," he says warmly. "Changed your hair?"

"No, but I did change my relationship status." I roll my eyes at his attempt at small talk. I know my ex-boyfriend's best friend didn’t just call me up to chat.

He chuckles, a sound out of place given the tension. “Look, I know things have been rough for you.”

“Rough? That’s putting it mildly.”

He leans forward, elbows on the table. “I want to help. He’s worried about you, you know.”

I sigh, glancing at the drawing in front of me. “He wasn’t worried when I was crying myself to sleep.”

“I get it,” he says softly. “But he’s struggling too. The hero life isn’t as glamorous as it seems. You know that better than anyone.” My heart skips a beat at the reminder of my early retirement. “The constant pressure, the expectations... it’s taking a toll on him.”

I look up, meeting his eyes. They hold sincerity, a genuine concern I hadn’t expected. “What do you want from me?” I whisper.

“Talk to him. Just once. Hear him out. You both deserve that closure.”

I lean back, the weight of his words settling over me.

“Fine,” I say after a long pause. “I’ll talk to him. But this doesn’t mean anything beyond that.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “That’s all I’m asking. Thank you.”

He settles back into his chair and picks up the menu. "Why don't we order something?"

I nod, grateful for the change in topic. "Sure. I hear their ramen is amazing."

We browse the menu, tension easing as we focus on the food. The waitress comes by, and we place our orders—spicy miso ramen for me, tonkotsu ramen for him.

As we wait, the restaurant buzzes with lunchtime chatter. Clinking utensils, humming conversations, and occasional laughter create a comforting atmosphere. It feels almost normal, a brief break from the chaos.

“So,” he says, breaking the silence, “how’s work? Still drawing those amazing designs?”

I smile, appreciating his interest. “Yeah, hectic, but I’m managing. Deadlines are killer, though.” He laughs as our waitress places two bowls in front of us.

“I can imagine. But your work is worth it. You’ve got talent, always have.”

“Thanks,” I say, feeling more at ease. “How about you? How’s hero life?”

“It’s... a lot,” he admits, mouth full of food. He swallows. “But it’s worth it, knowing we’re making a difference." I hum in agreement, tasting my food. The flavorful broth dances across my tongue, making me do an unconscious happy dance.

"We really do miss you though," Kiri says, his voice trailing off as he scratches his neck. I feel a pang of remembrance. I've never stopped missing being a hero. I hate not being able to work with my best friends.

"I don't get a retirement package as a hero," I reply, forcing a smile to mask my heartache. But it's clear my facade fails as regret fills Kiri's eyes. Apologies spill from his lips, but I don't listen. Instead, I reach out and gently place my hand on his for a brief moment.

"Eijiro, I promise you I've moved on. I don't blame anyone for what happened," I assure him, pushing another smile onto my face. "I got over that a long time ago."

I withdraw my hand and continue to eat, the conversation flowing more easily after a few moments. We reminisce about our days at UA, share laughs about our coworkers, and for a while, it feels like old times.

By the time we finish, I feel lighter, the past weeks’ weight lifting slightly. It’s not a solution, but it’s a start.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he says as we stand to leave. “and for agreeing to talk to him.”

I nod, a sense of anticipation blooming. “We’ll see how it goes.”

As we step out into the city’s noise, I unblock his number from my phone and watch in horror as hundreds of missed messages flood my phone screen.

[bogglecatboxx]

platonic!sagau seeing you cry behind the screen (freminet, yaoyao, ningguang, neuvillette, lisa)

notes: inspired by me having a rough day and crying while i farmed mats LOL (also neuvillette’s is mostly my own hc for him, sorry if it’s ooc)

freminet:

panic

probably keeps putting his helmet on. it’s not that he doesn’t want to help, it’s just that he doesn’t know how…

tries extra hard in any fights to try to make things a little easier. this, at least, is one way he can help, even if only a little. his damage output is higher, his cds are shorter, he’s powering through any hits he takes - not enough for you to notice anything odd, but enough to speed up any annoying commissions.

(lyney and lynette might be a little upset at him later for pushing himself too hard - though they understand more when he explains. they would do the same for you, after all.)

if he knows you like pers and who doesn’t, he’ll do his idle animation holding the mechanical penguin more often (hopefully you’re not paying too much attention, though, because you might find it odd that he’s wearing his helmet during the pers idle animation…)

yaoyao:

D:

surprisingly, she’s actually not too worried - even if she doesn’t like seeing you sad, she knows you’re strong enough to pull through whatever it is that’s upsetting you.

but just because you can handle it doesn’t mean she can’t help!

any of her voicelines that you think are cute, you’ll suddenly be hearing much more. (although it is a bit odd to hear her talking about the “silly frogs” when it’s not even raining.)

any cooking you do seems to go much better than usual - not only are you getting specialties first try, but you get high quality dishes without even trying.

(you might also find a few extra qingce household dishes in your inventory.)

ningguang:

she already wishes she could whisk you off to liyue. this is not helping.

whenever she sees you sad, she thinks about how well she could take care of you if you were in teyvat; thinks of the gifts she already has prepared, the spare room she keeps unoccupied just so she’s ready for whenever you decide it’s time to descend. seeing you cry just heightens those feelings.

her voice might sound a bit harsher than normal, but it’s not directed to you - rather, to whatever it is that has upset you.

whenever her idle animations play, she tries to summon brighter, sparklier gems than normal, hoping that the sight will lift your spirits, or at least take your mind off your problems.

if you stop at any shops in liyue, the prices might be mysteriously lower than normal. not by enough for you to notice, but enough to save you at least some trouble - the loss of a few thousand mora is nothing to ningguang, if it can help you even a little.

neuvillette:

hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry!

for some reason, when you’re sad, fontaine is always raining…

neuvillette hates seeing you upset. as someone who has spent much time crying himself, he knows what it’s like to suffer in silence - something he would never want for you. he hopes that being with him, even with a barrier inbetween, makes you feel less alone.

he longs to wipe your tears away, but that’s not an option behind the screen, so he’ll settle for smaller ways to cheer you up.

if you go underwater, you might notice more sea creatures than usual; not attacking you or even interacting with you, but just… hovering around, sharing neuvillette’s desire to brighten your spirits.

neuvillette’s voicelines will also sound quieter; not quite a whisper, but definitely softer than normal. it’s not an extreme difference, but he hopes you find his voice comforting.

lisa:

seeing her cutie sad just breaks her heart!

speaking of cutie, you might notice her tacking the nickname onto the end of voicelines that don’t normally have it.

lisa wishes she could rest your head in her lap and read to you - never has she hated the barrier between you so much!

similar to freminet, lisa puts her all into any fights you bring her to. it doesn’t matter if it’s a slime or the fatui, she’s hitting them with enough lightning to completely fry them, trying to wrap up any fights you need to complete as fast as possible so you can relax.

although she wants to spend as much time with you as she can, she knows that she shouldn’t be selfish, and that often sleep is the best medicine for heartache. for once, she’s not just upset when you leave - she’s also hopeful you’ll come back smiling.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day two.

A Firm Touch

Prompt: First Time | Word Count: 1912 | Rating: E | CW: Reference to Past Recreational Drug Use | Tags: First Time, Established Relationship, Being Restrained, Light Praise Kink, A Bit of Subspace, Insecure Eddie, Virgin Eddie, Service Top Steve, Working Out The Kinks (Literally), Boys in Love, Just Trying to Figure Themselves Out

Eddie squirms away from Steve's grasp, again, another night fucking ruined and Steve sighs in frustration. Running his hand through his hair. He's disheveled, and Eddie wants…but he can't. It's not gonna work.

This is never gonna work, and he doesn't know why he thought it might. He just wanted it to, so goddamn bad.

The knot in Eddie's stomach grows, because he knows that Steve is getting frustrated. Not by the lack of sex, Eddie doesn't think, but more by the lack of understanding of why they aren't having sex. Eddie's been trying, then shying away, stalling and Steve's been patient, but Eddie knows he's running out of runway. 

He's being a fucking cocktease, he's pretty sure, though that wasn't the intent.

"Eddie…" Steve trails off, "what? What is it this time?" he asks, hands finding his hips. The question comes across harsher than his voice actually sounds, but he's staring at Eddie in a way Eddie hates. He doesn't want to be looked at, stared at, perceived, known. 

Eddie shrugs, and Steve lets out a breath that's pure annoyance. Like something he'd aim at the kids when they are fraying his nerves. Eddie doesn't want that sound pointed in his direction, it makes him feel horrible. Worthless. 

Finally, Steve speaks again, "I just. I can't read your signals. They're all over the fucking place. Do you not want this? Or not with me? What? Just, what? Tell me," Steve pleads, and it's tinged with self-doubt, and maybe a little anger, and it makes Eddie withdraw further. Steve's got his own baggage, and Eddie knows it. But Eddie can't just say these things, can't ask for them.

So, Eddie clams up.

Because the other option is to jump right in, ready for a full fight. And he doesn't want to do that, so he just stays silent.

"Okay, I'll go," Steve says, and Eddie doesn't want him to go. But he doesn't know how to get him to stay. 

"Don't go," Eddie says, barely audible, squeezing his hands into fists so hard that his short nails are digging into his palms.

"Then tell me, and I'll do whatever you want," Steve says, soft, worried. Begging a little. "I can't keep guessing wrong. It's killing me."

"I'm just not built like you, Harrington," Eddie finally says. Hoping that will end the discussion for one more night. Maybe Steve will still stay, and give Eddie a little more time to figure his shit out.

"What do you mean by that?" Steve asks, his brow furrowed, as he's folding his hands in his lap.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing," Steve answers, "obviously."

Eddie is annoyed, frustrated. But he knows he's not gonna get anywhere with soft, sweet Steve Harrington running his hands all over him, like he's made of glass. Been there, done that. And it never ends in anything other than in frustration. There's something broken in him, and Steve would never understand that. 

"Eddie, I-" 

"You don't want me. You don't want what I want. What I need." 

"What do you need, Eddie?" Steve asks, putting his hands on Eddie's arms, gently.

Eddie's exhausted, and he finally snaps, "I need you to hold me down. I need you to handcuff me and…" he trails off when he sees Steve's face. "I need a firm touch. A firm hand. To get off." 

"Oh," Steve says, soft and shocked. Disgusted, probably. 

Eddie looks down. 

And then Steve's big, warm hand is on his thigh. Pressing down. Firmly. 

"I can't, like, hit you," Steve says, face way too earnest.

"I don't need you to hit me," Eddie says with a small smile. He wouldn't be opposed, but if Steve won't get off on it, there's no way.

"But I can be firm. Well, I can try. I want to try." 

Of course he does, because Steve Harrington always jumps in with both feet. Eddie's seen it in action. He just never expected to see it here, in the bedroom. He just thought he'd be able to get over it, whatever hang up he has, but it hasn't happened. 

"Okay, Steve, you can try. If you don't like it, you say so." 

"It's you," Steve says with a grin, "I think I'll like it just fine." 

Eddie just smiles at him, embarrassed, but hopeful.

"Tell me what you like, what your previous sexual partners have done for you that worked," Steve says, like he's ready to take mental notes.

Eddie laughs, shaking his head, "No previous sexual partners. But I'm flattered that you think that's a possibility."

"Then how do you know…?" Steve trails off.

"I still know how I feel. I know how I get off, alone," Eddie answers.

And that…how, is not very easy, never has been. At least not alone.

"Of course. Of course you do," Steve says, like he should have known that. Eddie doesn't think that's a thing that most guys ever contemplate. Eddie imagines Steve can get off easily, without even thinking about it. 

A few quick tugs, thinking about a pretty girl, or a cute guy, and that's all it takes. Eddie wishes it were that simple. He's trying to not feel embarrassed. It's Steve, and he's gotten used to the fact that he can tell Steve anything. 

And if he wants this to work, and he does, then this conversation has to happen.

"Okay, where do we start?" Steve asks, sounding chipper, and ready to go. To act. Now that they've got even a hint of a plan. Eddie cannot believe how brave he is. He's a take-charge kinda guy, maybe this will come naturally to him.

Eddie knows asking Steve to start with handcuffs is crazy, and he's never even been in them before, couldn't do it on his own, and as much as he wants to be, that's for later. Hopefully. Someday, maybe. So, he just lays face down on the bed. 

"Can you just…hold me down, maybe? Restrain me? With your hands?" Eddie asks.

"Yes," Steve says, like he's one-hundred percent certain that's something he can do, and then rolls him over, with a confidence that really works on Eddie. 

Steve's got big hands, hands Eddie has fantasized about on more than one occasion. 

And he grabs both of Eddie's wrists in one of his, and pins them above Eddie's head, pressing them into the pillow.

They aren't even undressed, but Steve crawls on top of him. Sitting on his thighs. 

"This good?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods. It's good.

He's clearly having to stretch to hold Eddie like that, so Eddie isn't surprised when Steve scoots up his body, until he's off his thighs, until they are crotch to crotch, and Steve doesn't shy away from that. He just pushes down against him, as he presses on his wrists even harder now that he has a better angle.

Steve's hard, and Eddie still isn't. Maybe this won't work. Maybe he's not meant to have anything as good as Steve.

But Steve keeps grinding down, over and over, as he squeezes Eddie's wrists. Then, Steve scoots up further, his hard cock pressing into Eddie's belly as Steve leans over him, his chest right over Eddie's face, and Eddie feels boxed in, Steve's shirt hanging down, brushing against his nose. The scent of Steve flooding Eddie's nostrils with every movement Steve's body makes. Eddie feels hidden. Secure. Safe. And he closes his eyes and just feels it all, fully. 

Enjoys.

When Steve shifts again, Eddie realizes he's hard. He doesn't know when that happened, but it feels so good. Steve is still rutting against him, and the pressure of him holding him to the bed feels like it's dug a hook into Eddie's center, and now there's an anchor pulling him down into the most amazing place he's ever been.

He feels drunk. He feels like he's taken the perfect amount of K, and now he's gently slipping into a hole.

Steve's not really doing much of anything, Eddie knows it's simple, but whatever Steve is doing is perfect. It's working.

Then, Steve leans forward, putting more weight on Eddie's wrists, holding them in place as he nearly lays on top of Eddie fully. Leaning most of his weight into it. Bringing them back together, hard cock pressed to hard cock. Still rolling his hips, grinding against him in slow, deliberate circles.

And even as Steve pushes all the air out of his lungs, Eddie feels like he can breathe, finally.

Steve's heavier than he looks, and Eddie is lost in the security he feels being under Steve.

He never even knew to dream about this, but here it is, his wildest dreams coming true at the hands of Steve Harrington.

"You feel so good under me," Steve says close to Eddie's ear, "you're being so good. Getting hard, just for me."

Eddie moans. 

"That's good," Steve says again, "are you ready for me to let you go? Do you want me to touch you?"

Eddie shakes his head no, then makes his request, "Lay on me."

And Steve lowers his whole body to Eddie's, pressing him into the mattress. Chest to chest, crotch to crotch. Eddie can feel every point of contact, every point of pressure, and it's good. So good.

His wrists are still tight in Steve's grasp, but now he feels like his whole body is being held in the same way. Safe. Secure.

Steve rolls his hips, one more time, and Eddie attempts to lift up his hips, tries to get his ass off the bed, but he can't, and he comes in his jeans. Steve following him over the edge.

Tears leak out of Eddie's eyes, and his breathing is shallow with Steve on top of him, but he's happy, and relieved, and kind of boneless. Steve finally shifts so he can hold Eddie's wrists in one hand instead of two, lighter now, and brushes the fingers of his open hand against Eddie's cheek. Face near Eddie's, grounding him.

"Whenever you're ready, tell me what you need. What to do," Steve whispers, and Eddie nods.

Eddie finally felt ready for Steve to let him go, so Steve's shifted so he's laying beside him, not on him, kissing his face, his neck, taking care of him like he always does. Just in a new way now. When Eddie pictured submitting, in the abstract, he was expecting punishment. Pain. To be used, and probably discarded. Thought that's what he wanted. Rough, hard, mean. He thought he needed to be hurt, or tortured, just a little.

And maybe he still does.

But Steve Harrington is none of those things, and his style of taking control isn't either. Steve's a take-charge kind of guy, but there's a softness there that Eddie never wants to see go away, honestly. 

"Was that okay?" Steve asks, and he looks so fucking nervous.

"More than," Eddie says, looking right in his eyes, "thank you."

"So, the handcuffs?" Steve asks, hint of a grin pulling at his lip.

"Wishful thinking," Eddie admits. Then raises his eyebrows, "Why? You interested?"

"For sure. Can we ease into it?" Steve asks, wrapping his arm around Eddie's waist, holding him tight, still so tight, and Eddie's sure he'll be asleep in minutes, feeling this comfortable.

This secure.

This safe.

This loved.

"Definitely," Eddie says, and closes his eyes, turning his face towards Steve's, nuzzling into him. Letting himself be held, not only down, but close.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @subeddieweek and follow along with the fun! 🖤

Notes: It was harder to write a first time (for both!) and have them have super defined roles. They're figuring their shit out. Together. And I like think Service Top Steve can grow into Pleasure Dom Steve, but not right out of the gate.

My other fics for this challenge week:

Day One Day Three Day Four Day Five Day Six Day Seven

[strawberrylips-1211]

Bittersweet

Hobie x reader

Pt 2

Hurt/comfort, angst

Mean hobie >:)

Sneak peak? Kind of?

warnings: bad English (not my first language mil disculpas), not proofread T^T,

based off this post.

let me know what you think so far please :)

You've been pacing around your cozy apartment, for the past hour, your mind racing, your stomach in knots. It wasn't unusual for you to stress over Hobie's absence or wellbeing, but tonight was different. You hadn't been able to contact Hobie two nights in a row, normally he would shoot you a text throughout the day letting you know he was alright and when he'd be home by, but not a word from him. Despite all the bruises and cuts that he'd sustain from his fights, he always came home to you. Though he hated consistency, you were the one thing he'd rely on, and the little routine (of you complaining bout his injuries while you fixed him up and him kissing you telling you he'd be more careful next time) he'd created with you.

The anxiety got the best of you, as you tried calling him one more time, the phone was ringing when you heard a loud thud coming from your shared bedroom. By instinct, you knew who it was, you recognized the heavy footsteps, and the loud distinctive accent as he cussed. Your heart racing and relief flooding you as you ran to the noise. Though the lights were off Hobie's outline was clear from the moonlight shining through the open window, he was slightly hunched, hand over his stomach as he glanced at you. He rolled his eyes, 'i don't have the energy for this'. He didn't have the energy to explain the mess he got himself into.

“Hobie? babe?" No response, there's only shuffling and grunting heard from him moving to the bed, "are you alright? I was so- " you turn on the light, stopping midway as soon as you registered his current state. Your eyes scanning his full body. He had a black eye, a busted lip, his knuckles bruised and it was impossible to miss the large open wound across his abdomen with blood soaking his suit.

He was beaten and bloodied, it always pained you when you saw him hurt, but it was never like this. He cut you off before you could even speak again, " I know what you're gonna say, but just let me handle it, yeah? Its nothin." You had so many question, to say you're shocked is an understatement. He's clearly in pain, what did he mean 'nothing'.

"Hobart Brown, this is clearly not nothing. What happened?," you questioned him but again not a peep from him, your tone sounding a bit harsher than you meant for, your worry was slowly turning into something else once you heard his words.

You sighed as you walked to the bathroom to grab your first aid kit, " Here let me grab the kit," but Hobie stood up from his spot and stopped you, "I said its nothing, just drop it." He hissed.

his head was pounding and his body was aching all over, he knew how much you worried, but he couldn't be bothered by anything at this point. He just wanted to get himself cleaned up and sleep. He really didn't want to hear any of your nagging tonight.

"DROP IT?? Hobs look at you, you're in no condition to do this yourself, What happened to you?" You asked looking up at him, once again scanning his face, he sighed out of frustration, "look I'll tell ya tomorrow." He brushed past you, now beginning to remove his jacket and studded bracelets. Your frustration also growing with his every word, you stayed up all night waiting for him, all you want to do is help.

"No, you're letting me help you, you not even answering my questions properly. I want to know where my boyfriend has been these past two days, I want to know why you're sitting here with all these cuts, Hob-" before you could finish, he stood up and grabbed both your wrists in his hands, "JUST SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE, WILL YA? I said I don’t need your bloody help." He yelled, his pretty face contorted in anger. It was accident, he was just fed up with everything, he was exhausted and your constant questioning wasn't helping. He never yelled at you before, no matter the situation he's always been understanding and sweet towards you.

You were shocked, and though you hated to admit it, scared of him. You couldn't do anything, but just stare at him wide eyed, you whimpered a little from his volume and how strong his hold was. He'd truly scared you.

Even he was surprised at his own outburst. As soon as he saw your expression, he was slightly brought back to reality, "Tch, I ain't got time for this." He sighed as he let go of you. Guilt slowly creeping through, he really didn’t mean it, but didn’t apologize for it right away, he simply continued prepping to clean his gashes.

You stood there for a bit, so many emotions coursing through you in that split second. You collected yourself quickly and left the bathroom, slamming the door behind you. Angry tears running down your face. You mumbled to yourself to keep yourself from completely bursting at the seams, 'Fine, asshole. Be like that then.' You grabbed your stuff and made your way to the room. No way were you going to be in the same room as him.

Should I continue this??

I have never tagged anyone before but here ya go

@bleuatlas

@spedermannmorales

@luujjvi

@buddhapooksrealwife

@denuparxoume

@archiviststar

[writingwisterias]

Quiet Mornings

Arthur Morgan x AFAB! Reader

Words: 1.9k Warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, Public Sex, Oral (F Receiving), Orgasm denial, soft dom Arthur Summary: After arriving back from camp late you find Arthur waiting for you, having stayed up the whole night to ensure your safety he plans to punish you so you never do it again...

Red filled the sky as the sun rose and illuminated the dewdrops across the field as you rode back towards the camp. Your horse's hooves thundering throughout the roads broke the peaceful silence of the early morning. It was a quiet morning at least, a chance to escape the camp for a few hours is what you told Hosea as you left but a few hours turned into a whole night when you accidentally got caught stealing and then you spent the past few hours hiding in the cold mountains as you tried to loose the sheriff. Thanks to the gang's recent activity in the area they have started to follow outlaws for longer in hopes it’s someone worth a lot as they collect the bounty for themselves. You spotted his familiar figure leaning up against a tree as you drew closer to camp, of course, if anyone had noticed you were missing it would have been him. You brought your horse into a trot as you got closer, his head was bowed, his hat hiding his features as you got closer meaning you also couldn’t tell what mood he was in. 

You cringed as you thudded on the ground, the sound causing him to raise his head at you. Oh, he was pissed- his eyes narrowed at your dishevelled figure, your plaits were messy and wild from where the wind had run through the strands of your braids, and your hat was also nowhere to be found. You silently cursed at the fact that your bandana was still visible around your neck from where you lowered it after you finally escaped. “Rough night?” His voice grovelled out. You shrugged in an attempt to be as natural as possible. “You could say that” 

You wondered towards him, holding out a smoke as a peace offering. Arthur accepted it, shoving the cigarette between two lips the flame from his match highlighting his features. “You haven’t been getting up to trouble have you?” he asked as he blew out the smoke. “I guess that depends on what you define as trouble” you joked. Arthur towered over you, his face still partially hidden but you could tell he was pissed at you; his body was stiff and his tone was harsher than he normally spoke to you and out of all the jobs Arthur did standing watch was not one of them meaning he covered someones shift just to wait for you to stumble home. 

“Where were you?” he grumbled stomping out what was left of the cigarette under his boots. “I was doing my job then some prick caught me and I had the sheriff on my ass all night” 

“Were you followed?” he asked, earning a scoff from you before you started to walk away leading your horse to the hitching posts. “Were you followed?” he repeated as he stomped after you grasping your arm to halt you in your tracks, his words were clipped and his grip on your arm was tight. “What do you think Arthur? I was out all night - I’m not some dumb idiot” you said, your tone matching his. “I-I was just worried ‘bout you that’s all,” he said. You knew he wasn’t trying to be annoying, he was just protective over all the women in the camp but even more so for you. “I know Arthur, I wanted you to come with me but you were off doing something for Dutch again- I feel like I never see you anymore” 

Arthur shuddered at your words, he hadn’t meant to neglect you. The gang needed money and per dutch’s request, he was always chosen to be the one to get it. You watched him stand there in thought, he didn’t loosen his grip on your arm instead, he brought you closer to him. “Arthur what are you-” 

You were cut off as he began to lift you on your horse again, making sure you were situated before lifting himself onto the horse as well before he spurred it on to ride back out of the camp. You didn’t say anything just leant back into his chest tucking your head into his neck as you trusted him to lead you somewhere safe. He chuckled as he felt you leave sloppy kisses all over his neck, “You must have missed me, what a man am I to neglect such a pretty thing like you” He whispered in your ear, his arm wrapping your stomach and pulling you into him tighter. As you laid more kisses on his neck you could feel his cock thicking underneath you. “You are making it very hard for me to concentrate on where I’m going” he groaned as he felt you re-adjust on the horse your ass brushing against it. “What’s wrong with here?” you whispered against him. 

The sky was still painted red as he gently laid you on the grass of the field, the long blades hiding you both from sight of the main road, you hissed and arched your back as your skin hit the dew drops on the ground. Arthur began to work on undoing your corset his lips leaving sloppy kisses over every spot of exposed skin. Your fingers wove in his hair as you keep him close to you. You gasped as your chest became exposed to the morning chill, arthur took one of your hardened nipples in his mouth gently sucking at the nub. Your fingers tightened in his hair at the stimulation of his tongue as well as his cold hands running up your thighs grasping at them as he hoisted your skirt over your waist. “Arthur please don't tease” You whined as you felt the pads of his fingers touch your clothed pussy, his cock hardening at the feel of your arousal already seeping through. “Hm, but you made me stay awake all night so you can cause trouble in the town…and when you came back, I get ya smart mouth” he spoke as he lowered his head to place kisses along your leg. “Does that sound like you should be treated like a good girl? Or should I perhaps punish you- so you never do it again” 

You gasped as your pussy became exposed to the air, the only piece of clothing left on you was your skirt now hiding Arthur's sinful activities from view as he began to tease and kiss away at your folds. “Arthur-” you moaned finally lowering your body against the grass spreading your legs wider for him. Arthur began to eat away at you like he was starved and perhaps he was; it wasn’t his fault Dutch constantly sent him away hunting or for money. Or any second the two of you were finally alone always ended up somewhere in the wilderness. His tongue slipped through your lips before it began to circle your sensitive bud, the new amounts of pleasure causing your hips to buck at his face. Arthur could navigate your body as well as he knew the wild west, knowing every pulse point to nip and suck at, he knew the sensitive parts of your pussy never failing to hit one to get you writhing underneath him. He could feel your body getting closer to your first orgasm, from the way your hips bucked at every chance they got to the fact your thighs squeezed his head so tight his hat was somewhere discarded in the ground next to you. Yet as he bought you closer and closer he began to slow his rhythm before pulling away entirely right as he felt your pussy twitch around his tongue. The action causes a frustrated growl to leave your lips. 

Arthur chuckled as he watched your head shoot up from the grass, your breast moving as your chest heaved, he loved the rosey tint your cheers had as you glared at him. “Careful love. I warned you I would punish you” he grinned. Arthur began to undo his trousers, pulling his cock out of them, the tip almost as red as the sky and it slowly leaked out precum. He used it to lube his length as he brought it towards your entrance. He groaned as your walls enveloped him. His pace was slow at first as his tip teased your G-spot, you gripped at his forearms leaving crescent shapes in his tanned skin. “Arthur please-” you begged as you began to feel your orgasm build back up again, your pussy clenching around his cock. Arthur groaned above you, his stubble tickling you as his teeth began to graze just below your ear the sensation adding to the goosebumps that had already spread over your skin from the frosty morning. Your moans echoed throughout the hills, bouncing off the trees as the grass hid you from view. Arthur's weight pressed down onto you as he ground his hips into you, his tip hitting deep inside you; he could feel your walls begin to suck him in, gripping him so tightly he could barely pull out to thrust inside you again. “Shit Girl, holding onto me so tight” Arthur grunted, his breath hot on your skin. You whimpered as that coil finally began to snap - until he stopped again. 

“Arthur Please” you cried, your hips began to thrust desperate to keep that coil in place. Arthur smirked at how pathetic you looked below him, your eyes blown out wide as you begged for him to continue, your begs were probably heard by all the hunters nearby, his chest swelling with pride at the pretty girl below him shouting his name for all to hear. “Say my name angel” he whispered in your ear, his hips moving painfully slow to keep your attention hooked on the way he made you feel. His balls were heavy and crying out for release but seeing you underneath him at his mercy he would hold on just a little bit longer. “Say my name Angel” He repeated, tapping your face slightly to bring your attention back to him. “Arthur” You whimpered, you felt the orgasm almost at its breaking point if only Arthur moved a little bit more. “Louder” he grunted, his hips finally moving slightly faster. “Arthur!” you shouted as you finally felt your orgasm wash over you, your body going limp in his arms as he rabidly thrust inside you before finally coating your walls with his cum. 

You felt him pull out his softening cock before sitting back on his knees to adjust himself. He smiled as he looked down at your topless form, your legs still spread open for him. Your skin was highlighted with a warm glow as the sun finally poked through the morning clouds. “I think I’ve learnt my lesson” You joked as you looked up at him, his hair was messy and falling in front of his eyes. “Good, next time wait for me- hell you coulda bout Marston to help you” he grumbled as he helped you redress yourself. “It was meant to be easy, it’s not my fault some twat reported me” 

Arthur smiled as he finally stood up, he knew you were more than capable of doing your own thing, and often supported it. He just worried when he returned from camp expecting to find you sleeping in your shared tent and you were nowhere to be found, only to be told by Micah of all people that you were still out. “I’ll make sure to send you a pigeon to let you know if I’m trapped out next time” you joked as you finally stood at his height. Arthur scoffed but brought you into his embrace holding you tightly as you sunk into his warmth. “At least I would know you are safe” 

[awearywritersworld]

"can we stay here a little while longer?"

gojo satoru x reader summary: grappling with death, something that seems ever pervasive in your line of work, gojo offers you comfort w/c: .8k tags/warnings: light angst to fluff, gn!reader, no use of y/n, discussions of death, smoking, your relationship is obviously close but it's exact nature is left ambiguous a/n: i just want him to hold me, i am weeping. i wrote most of this a while back and finally decided to finish it. masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

"what brings you out here?" you call out to the white haired man strolling in your direction.

"oh you know," he begins, sitting down beside you in the grass. "just thought i could use some sun."

you're situated beneath a willow tree, its leaves rustling as the branches sway in the wind.

you look up at the gray sky incredulously. "'toru, it's overcast-"

"ah! you always see right through me, sweetheart," he exclaims, amusement clear in his voice. "i'm really just here to check on you."

you look over and meet his eye, but turn away the very next moment. "oh."

he watches as you pull blades of grass from the ground one by one. in your other hand, a cigarette hangs loosely between two fingers and he doesn't say anything more until you take a long drag from it.

"haven't you heard those things will kill you?"

a humorless chuckle passes your lips as you begin to exhale, blowing the smoke away from his direction. "given our line of work, it's much more likely that something else will get to me first."

"i guess you've got me there," he acquiesces, nimble fingers pulling the cigarette from yours.

you raise your eyebrows when he brings it to his lips, his nose scrunching almost imperceptibly as the menthol cools his tongue. having grown up with you and shoko, it's not like he's never smoked before. he just prefers to eat his weight in sweets, everyone having their vices and all.

"is that why you've been hiding away the past two days?" he questions, passing it back to you.

you shrug. "'m just tired of losing people."

his hand lands just above your knee, giving it a light squeeze before pulling away. "me too."

gojo's well accustomed to your habit of isolating yourself, and while he knows you need alone time now and then, he always comes to find you before long.

"do you wanna talk about it?" he broaches, giving you a little nudge with his elbow. "everyone else is getting tired of dealing with me, especially shoko."

"i suppose i can open up if it's for her sake-"

"hey!" he interrupts, though he's relieved to see the small smirk playing at your lips.

"kidding!" you laugh, leaning into him. after a moment, you grow quiet once more, though your expression isn't nearly as gloomy. "i don't know, 'toru. sometimes i just feel as if death is the easy part."

gojo narrows his eyes at you, the sentiment behind your words igniting his worry. "meaning what, exactly?"

"that they're gone.. and meanwhile i'm left to wonder why the hell i'm still alive."

"don't say that," he scolds, sounding a bit harsher than he intends.

"why not? it's not like-"

"because i'd die before i'd let anything happen to you."

you just stare at him, your lips slightly parted and your expression entirely unreadable. he doesn't take it back though, his eyes burning into yours decisively and his tone definite, like he'd decided on the matter ages ago. it leaves no room for argument, really, but of course you argue anyway.

"don't be ridiculous," you eventually huff.

"i'm not, you said it yourself. death is the easy part and i happen to be exceptionally selfish-"

"oh, that is the furthest thing from the truth," you interrupt.

"not when it comes to you."

his words hang in the air and you wonder when your heart started hammering against your ribcage, each beat more vicious than the last. the man before you is kind and generous, a far cry from the careless boy you'd known in your youth.

you haven't failed to notice the time and energy he dedicates to his students, or the way he's risked his life to protect those who can't protect themselves. it goes without saying that he'd won your admiration and understanding a long time ago.

"well, we all deserve to be selfish sometimes," you murmur.

his lip tugs upward at your response, a show of emotion that's both soft and genuine. "does that mean i can force you to rejoin society now?"

suddenly, you're aware of all the life around you— life that carries on even in the absence of the sun. the bees that fly from blossom to blossom. the birds that sing to one another. the squirrels that chase each other through the branches of the willow tree.

you scoot closer to gojo, your head falling onto his shoulder as you softly exhale. "can we stay here a little while longer?"

"sure, princess," he hums, his lips grazing the top of your head in a gentle show of affection. "we can stay as long as you want."

[scream4ash]

family line.

based on

my gf is so pretty, guys 😣😣

max fox x f! reader

warnings: mentions of abuse; parent issues; mentions of self harm; alcohol abuse; r’s kinda an asshole (not really, just shitfaced n sad.)

a/n: sorry this took so long, i had shit to handle for work. (i’ve been getting borderline stalked.) this sucks, my bad 😣😣.

you had been ignoring max for weeks at this rate, refusing to answer calls and messages, skipping school, essentially falling off the face of the earth. you and your mom had been fighting a lot. nothing major, normal stuff. school, money, why your dad left. it wasn’t that bad. yeah, sure it got physical at times, but she never meant to, you deserved it, right?

you looked into the mirror, only to be met with your barely recognizable reflection. have you always looked this much like your dad? your face was sunken in, your collarbones a little more noticeable than they used to be. various cuts lined your face, some healing, some fresher. the bags under your eyes had grown darker due to lack of sleep, an old sweatshirt hanging from your shoulders. the stench oh alcohol radiating off of you like you had bathed in it. have your eyes always looked this empty?

you hear a soft knock on your window, followed by a gentle call of your name. max. max was here, shit. you rolled down your sleeves in an attempt to hide your most treasured hated habit. you open the window, helping her in.

“y/n! y/n, holy shit i’ve been calling you, you fucking assho-,” she cuts herself off taking in your appearance. she wraps her arms around you, burying her face into your chest. “you look like shit. and you smell like a bar and.” she takes a moment to look around your room, seeing the empty liquor bottles and redbull cans scattered across the floor. she brings her hands to cup your face, gently running her thumb over one of the cuts, pulling away when she hears you wince. “what happened?”

“it’s nothing, maxie,” you mutter softly, rubbing soft circles into her back. you hoped and prayed that she would accept it and move on, yet you know she’d never do that.

“it’s not ‘nothing’, baby. you look like you got in a fight. who did this to you?” her voice was soft, sickeningly sweet even.

you look down at the floor, pulling away from her. “fuck off, max. i didn’t answer for a reason.” you sounded harsher than intended, you didn’t even mean to say it. your head was fuzzy from weeks of endless drinking, and it definitely showed.

“hey, hey! i’m trying to help.” she stood her ground, pushing back. “who hurt you, hm?”

“max, for fuck’s sake can you just drop it? just fucking forget it, yeah? it doesn’t matter. why can’t you understand that?” you really didn’t mean to yell at her, you were just tired. too tired to even process what’s happened these past few weeks. your expression softens, your eyebrows knitting together seeing her take a step back.

“i’m just worried about you..,” she sounded so.. sad. she watched you patiently, waiting for you to say something.

“i’m. i’m sorry..” you mutter softly, refusing to make eye contact. you felt tears prick at your eyes, though you would never let them fall.

“are you crying?” you heard her whisper, taking a cautious step towards you. “there’s no shame in crying, i promise. it’s ok, i’m here.” she wrapped her arms around you, guiding you to sit on your bed.

you let out a choked sob at her words, leaning into her. “i’m so sorry, maxie. i’m sorry.” you repeated teary apologies, your voice shaking.

her hands ran through your hair, scratching your back, anything to make you feel better. “y/n, talk to me. what happened?”

you dig your nails into the flesh of your palm, a habit you had picked up when you were a kid. “me and my mom have been fighting.. a lot..”

she takes your hand in hers, brushing her thumb over the crescent shaped scars on your palm. “don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself.” she pressed a kiss to the side of your head, guiding you to lay your head in her lap. “she did this to you?” she asked silently, stroking your cheek.

“yeah.. yeah.. it’s.. nothing though..” you said quietly, trying to brush it off. you kept your head in her lap, letting her play with your hair. the one action that’d bring you some form of comfort.

“it’s not nothing. have you seen yourself?” she felt her heart break with you trying to downplay your issues.

“max..”

“no,” she cut you off. “it’s ok for you to feel, i don’t know why you can’t see that. you’re killing yourself.”

you nodded slowly, letting her words sink in.

“now please, just talk to me. i don’t wanna see you hurt yourself anymore..” she sounded so.. desperate.

“my mom wants me out of the house. i can’t go to college. i hate my job, i hate school. i’m failing. and i just.. i hate myself..” you mutter through sobs, clinging to her. “i’m sorry i ignored you. i’m sorry, maxie..”

“you don’t need to apologize, ever..” she said holding your trembling body, whispering sweet praises into your ears. “you’re doing so good. my beautiful, strong, amazing, girl.. i’m so proud of you..”

you let out a shaky sob hearing her words, basking in the praise.

“i mean it. and i’ll say it as many times as i need to to make you believe it.” her hands combed through your hair, scratching at your scalp lightly. she saw that you weren’t trembling as much, and took that as a good sign. “i love you, ok?” she move to lay down, bringing your head against her chest. “i love you, and i want you to talk to me next time this happens. don’t push me away. talk to me instead of drinking yourself to death.”

“i didn’t wanna bother you..” you muttered softly, your voice muffled against her skin.

“i’ve got nowhere else to be.. you’re what matters.” she presses kisses to the top of your head, pulling you closer to her. “i want you to be ok.”

“i’m just tired. i don’t feel like talking.” your voice was raspy, exhausted.

“just sleep. i’ve got nowhere important to be. you’re what matters right now.” she said soothingly into your ear, tracing soothing patterns into the small of your back.

“i love you, maxie..” you say softly, closing your eyes and leaning into her.

“i love you too, baby.” she whispered back, watching you drift off to sleep. she pressed another kiss to your forehead, closing her eyes. for the first time in weeks, you slept through the night.

[mochegato]

Surrender

Marinette scoffed and slumped into her seat, arms crossed, lips twisted into a pout, and head turned away from where she had tossed her phone down on the bar, like having it out of her eyesight would erase the conversation, which it didn’t.  What it did do, was make her miss the way her phone slid into several glasses causing them to slosh over and spill onto the bar and her phone.

“What did he say?” Tom asked softly.  He picked up her phone to clean it off and set it in front of her before wiping down the bar.

“Said I’m annoying,” she grumbled.  She suddenly lunged forward with wide, pleading eyes, hands clasped together.  “Another, please?”

He hummed as he grabbed a new glass for her.  “Not the greenest of flags.  Is he going to come get you?” he asked as he slid a full shot glass over to her.

Marinette downed the shot in one go and misjudging the bar height, dropped it back on the bar a bit harsher than she’d intended to.  “No?  Why would he,” she asked absently as she stared at the offending glass.

Tom gave her an exhausted look and let out a long, exasperated breath.  “I thought you were trying to get someone to pick you up.”

She looked at him confused and more than a bit affronted.  “Um, no?  I have not gotten drunk enough to forget my day.  Another please.”  She motioned toward her glass; her movements looser than she intended.  “I was asking him a question.  Or, trying to ask him a question.  He wouldn’t let me ask.  Kept interrupting me.  Because he’s a rude asshole.”

He sighed and picked up her phone, holding it out for her to activate it for him.  “Who else can I call to come get you, sweetheart?”

She put her thumb on the screen without looking at it.  “Well definitely not him,” she sniped.  “He calls me sweetheart sometimes too, but it’s never a nice way like you say it.  He always says it like he’s annoyed.”   She slumped down again and moped her head onto her hand.  “Joke’s on him though.  He’s the fucking annoying one,” she grumbled.  “Stupid looming height and obnoxious chiseled jaw and horrible sculpted abs and frustrating devilish smile…” she trailed off staring into the distance, absolutely not picturing his annoying qualities.

Tom gave a few detached hums in understanding as he swiped to her messages, suddenly letting out a chuckle and sliding the phone back toward her.  “You can stop worrying that gorgeous head of yours.  Taken care of.  Here,” he slid another shot over to her.

Marinette grinned up at him.  “You think my head is gorgeous? Thank you!  I think yours is too.  It’s nice to have a guy actually say nice things to me and mean them.”  The bartender opened his mouth as Marinette downed the shot, but she waved her hand, the shot glass swinging precariously in her grip as she did.  “I mean, I have friends and they say nice things.  I meant like… they have to because they’re my friends and that’s what friends do… except Chloe.  But you’re not saying it just because you’re a friend and you have to.”  She looked forlornly at the bar.  “I should just find someone who will say things like that to me… non-platonically and forget about judgmental donkeys who lecture me and judge me.  Or even just act like they enjoy me being around.”

She suddenly stopped and looked down at the bar aghast.  “Deiu, my standards have dropped.”  She looked up at the bartender, eyes wide.  “I sound like I’d date just about anyone who said pretty words to me.”

Tom sighed and looked past her intently for a few seconds like he was trying to decide something.  Finally, he slid another full shot glass to her.  “You gotta be careful saying things like that in here,” he warned and leveled a finger at her.  “If I wasn’t here glowering at every man in this bar, you would be inundated with non-platonic comments.  Some of which would no doubt be borderline illegal.  They don’t need the encouragement.”

Marinette straightened up, her eyes lighting up.  “You think so?” she asked, her voice bubbling with excitement.

She turned to look around her, but he reached out and grabbed her shoulder to turn her right back toward the bar.  “No.”

Marinette harumphed and slumped down again but couldn’t fall back with Tom’s hand still holding onto her.  “Didn’t say it in a dom voice so it doesn’t count,” she grumbled to her lap.  After a beat she looked up.  “What wasn’t I supposed to worry about?”

He met her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.  “No, she’s not interested in a drink or a dance.  Or anything other than going home alone.  Fuck off,” he stated loudly.

Marinette quirked her head to the side, her face scrunching in confusion until she heard a deep, low voice behind her, and her eyes instantly widened as she straightened up, which was not at all related to the shiver that had flittered down her spine at the feel of his baritone rolling through her body.  “I'm here to pick her up.”

“You the boyfriend she was texting?” Tom asked, motioning toward him with his chin.

“No!” Marinette exclaimed.

“Texting yes. Boyfriend, no,” Jason corrected.  He took the shot glass from in front of her and downed it in one smooth motion, instantly pulling back to look at it curiously.  He raised an eyebrow at Tom after the complete lack of any kind of alcoholic burn, or taste, in his mouth and throat.  Jason gave an appreciative nod to his shrug, then met Marinette’s glare with a smirk.  “Not yet anyway,” he amended.

“Good luck changing that,” Tom encouraged. 

Marinette tore her glare from Jason to use it full force on the backstabbing bartender.  “Do not wish him luck with that!” Marinette squawked.  “Wish him some tact.  Wish him some empathy.  Wish him a fucking heart.”

“Thank you,” Jason nodded to Tom.

“Do not thank him,” she hissed at Jason.  She stood up, proud that she only wavered a little bit, but annoyed that standing actually made her shorter than when she had been seated on the bar stool, so she lost some of her threatening status.  Not that she ever felt like she remotely threatening to Jason.  He could lay down, fully bound with chains and still be more threatening than she felt at her strongest.  It was in his aura.  It was in his voice.  It was just him.  Strong.  Formidable.  Safe.  Dangerous!  She meant dangerous.

But when he smiled or laughed?  It was the most disarming, calming, transcendent feeling.  However he hadn’t been sharing that laugh with her lately, especially since their last mission, which was not her fault!  And she saved the mission, thank you very much.  Damn near cost her life to do and instead of thanking her, he’d screamed at her… in front of everyone.  And since then, all she got were glowers and criticisms.

“You don’t get to come in here with your stupid better-than-you smirks and winks and act like you’re not a jerk to me every other opportunity!  Like you haven’t been a complete ass to me the last few days, trying to make me feel small.”

“But you are so small,” he teased.

Her angry expression turned blank.  She plopped back in her seat and turned away from him.  “You heard the man, fuck off.  I’m going home alone.  Without you.”

He let out a long deep, tortured breath.  All indications of teasing were gone as he stared intently at the side of her head.  “Marinette, I understand that you have no sense of self-preservation, but you are in no state to go home alone.  You need someone to take you home.  I’m here.  I’m taking you.”

“The hell you are,” she hissed.  She shot him an overly innocent expression, wide eyes and slight smile.  “I can call Roy.  I’m sure he’d be more than willing to drop everything and anything to come and pick me up, take me home, and tuck me into my bed,” she said smugly.

“He wouldn’t be able to walk himself back out of the bar if he did,” Jason growled as he pulled her out of her seat and tried to maneuver her toward the door.

Marinette batted at his hand as he tried to guide her out.  “You do not get to swoop in here like you suddenly want to start being protective…”

“Marinette,” he interrupted.  He stepped forward so he was almost touching toes, towering over her with a gaze in his dark eyes so intense it stole the words from her throat.  “I am taking you home and then I am putting you in your bed.  You are going to listen to me and stop fighting me.”  His voice was deep and commanding in a way she had never heard before.  “Do you understand me?”

She stared at him in utter shock, all ability to form words destroyed.  She swallowed thickly and tried to respond, but her brain still hadn’t kicked in.  The only thing she could do was nod.  Jason’s eyes softened.  He hooked his finger under her chin and urged her face up so she no longer had to look at him through her lashes, but rather could meet his eyes full on.  “I need to hear the words, Pixie.”

“I understand,” she said breathlessly.

He nodded in approval.  “Good girl,” he said quietly.  He had to take a moment to calm his heart when he felt her shiver at his words.  She was responding better to his words than he could have ever possibly anticipated.  It made him start imagining things he’d never let himself imagine before.  Things he’d forcibly stopped himself from imagining, much to the frustration of the people around him, because he inevitably took out his frustrations on everyone… including her and especially when she didn’t value herself as much as he did.

It took a solid four breaths before he could turn her toward the door again and push her in front of him so he could guide and protect her from the leering men around them.  They’d only made it a few steps into the fray before Tom called them back.  “Might want this.”  He held her phone up and shook it gently.

Jason grunted and turned Marinette around to meet his eyes.  “Stay right here.  Do not move.”  He waited until she nodded before returning to the bar.  “Thank you,” he told the bartender as he pocketed the phone.  “And thank you for watching out for her tonight.”

Tom nodded back.  “Not a problem.  She’s a good kid.  Very sweet… but you might want to rethink how you deal with her.”  He leveled Jason with a stern look.  “She almost tried looking for some guy who would say nice things to her.  She needs someone to tell her she does matter.  She is important.  She is worthy.”

He kept the harsh eye contact for a few more beats, letting his words sink in, before continuing.  “I don’t know what your dynamic is, but she doesn’t think you feel all of that, like at all, then you’re just an asshole on a power trip.”

Jason stared at him for a few seconds then glanced back at Marinette for the first time taking in her stance.  She had wrapped her arms around herself and was looking at the floor morosely.  He hadn’t noticed.  He’d wanted her to realize how valuable she was, how important, but instead, he’d made her think that he thought the opposite.  He sighed and nodded to Tom.  “Thanks again.”

It was a long car ride to Marinette’s apartment, at least for Jason.  It gave him all kinds of time to rethink how he had been treating Marinette.  Not cruel, but not kind.  Not like he wanted to but how he felt like he needed to in order to keep her from burrowing into his heart any further than she already had and understand she was being too reckless with her life.  And clearly, that had been a mistake, because he hadn’t just been hurting himself, he’s been hurting her as well.

“Okay, Pixie Pop, time to go to bed,” Jason commanded as he ushered her into her apartment.

Marinette groaned but let him guide her in, but as soon as she crossed the threshold, she twisted so she was walking backward, and she could shoot him a pout.  “Can’t sleep.  I’m not tired.”

“You can sleep,” he corrected confidently and pointed her toward her bedroom.  “I know you can.  You fell asleep in the car in the car on the way here.”

“And now I’m awake,” she answered like it was an obvious sequence of events that he should have understood without her spelling it out.  “Oh!”  She stopped walking and perked up instead, almost jumping into him.  “I didn’t get to dance with anyone tonight.  Dance with me!”

Her expression was open and excited, the very personification of innocence and sweetness.  It was physically painful to have to deny her, but she needed to sleep off the alcohol and if they danced like she wanted to, he didn’t know if he would have the strength to deny her, and that night was not going to be their night.  She was still tipsy and when they first moved into that relationship, they were going to choose to do it.

She needed to sleep.  She knew she needed to sleep.  He knew she needed to sleep.  She knew he knew she needed to sleep.  She was just pushing him.  Trying to see how far she could go, but he wasn’t about to let her get away with it.  “Stop being a brat and go to bed, like the good girl I know you can be,” he commanded, his voice dipping low again.

Marinette froze and her smile dropped as her eyes grew wide and she swallowed thickly.  She kept eye contact for a few long seconds, possibly hours, before dropping her eyes to the floor and pulling her lower lip between her teeth.  She shifted uncomfortably but nodded.  “Okay,” she agreed weakly and turned toward her bedroom.

“Marinette,” he stated firmly, just a single word but the order was implicit in the tone, and she clearly picked up on it, freezing instantly.  He stepped in front of her and waited for her to look up and meet his eyes.  When she still hadn’t after a full minute, he spoke up.  “Marinette, I need you to tell me what’s wrong.  I can’t do anything if I don’t know what is bothering you.”  She still didn’t look up, but she started shifting again, so he just had to wait her out and she could grace him with her voice.

After a few moments, she finally did.  “I’m not tired,” she repeated even quieter than she had spoken before, so quietly he almost couldn’t hear her even in her silent apartment.  “My body is all,” she made a vague, frantic motion with her arms.  “And my head is all,” she made even more frantic motions, a little higher this time.  “I can’t relax.  I’m sorry.”

Jason let out a long breath as guilt washed over him.  She wasn’t being a brat; she was telling him what she needed without telling him what she needed.  When he looked at her, he could see the anxiety rolling off her.  It shouldn’t have taken so much to see it.  How was she supposed to trust him when he couldn’t see clear signs?  How was she supposed to be willing to hand over control if she couldn’t trust him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he assured her, his voice genuine and soothing in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to use with her before.  “It’s just the way you feel and there’s nothing wrong with feeling your emotions.  But now that I know, I can help.”

She blinked up at him, her head quirking to the side, the apprehension that had marked her expression thankfully replaced by confusion.  “Help?”

“Help,” he repeated with a nod and urged her toward her bedroom.

“What do… How are… What?” she finally sputtered out, but didn’t try to escape the possessive hand on her lower back pushing her forward.  She couldn’t tell if things were happening extremely fast or if she was just still a bit drunk.

Once they reached her door he stopped.  “Okay, Pixie, look, I know I owe you an apology.  I’ve been a dick to you all week, fuck, all month, several months and you didn’t deserve it.  And I want to make it up to you.  So, get into your most comfortable pajamas.”  She opened her mouth but before she could get the objection out, he spoke up.  “I know you’re too wired to sleep.  I don’t expect you to just fall asleep.  Just trust me.”  He waited until she nodded then nodded back.  “Go,” he urged just before pushing her into her bedroom.

For the several minutes it took her to get into her pajamas, Jason focused on his breathing and heartrate.  He was going to ace this.  It was normal to think you could ace a slow roll into a relationship, right?  He winced internally so hard, it transferred to externally.  No, no it was not and he couldn’t even lie to himself that it was.  But at least he’d gotten his breathing and heartrate under control.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Marinette announced shyly as she opened the door.

And there went the control.

Her pajamas weren’t scandalous or overtly sexy.  It was just shorts that barely poked out under her oversized shirt.  But it was the sexiest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

“What did you want me to do?” she asked.  Her eyes widened slightly and she rushed to add, “to relax,” but then winced because that didn’t make it sound better.

He let out a controlled breath.  “Go lay down on the bed, face down.”

She cocked her head to the side.  And that made it sound worse.  “Face down?”

“Face down,” he confirmed and pushed her toward the bed by her shoulders.

She eyed him suspiciously over her shoulder but complied, quickly getting into position, moving her pillows so she could lay face down in her normal spot.  There were serious doubts about this plan racing through her mind because far from being relaxing, she was more on edge than before.

She had no idea what was happening.  She didn’t know what Jason had planned.  She didn’t know why he was ‘helping’ her.  She didn’t know why he insisted on taking her home.  She didn’t know why he got so angry at the idea of Roy helping instead.  Because the only answers she could think of didn’t make any sense and she knew had to be wrong.  She almost yelped when she felt the bed dip under his weight next to her, her entire body tensing.  Maybe it was all an elaborate plan to strangle her in her bed.  He’d certainly looked like he wanted to more than a few times over the past few days.  And he may have apologized, but maybe he didn’t mean it.

She did actually squeak when she felt his hands on her shoulders, squeezing and releasing then adjusting slightly repeating.  “What are you doing?” she asked shakily.  His hands were working toward her neck, but it didn’t feel aggressive…

“Relaxing you,” he chuckled.  “If you have to ask, I must not be doing it right.”  But he continued to massage her uninterrupted.

“This is supoooohhh.”  Her objection was immediately cut off because, yeah, he was right.  She clearly should have trusted him.  It just felt so good on her tense muscles and when he fisted her hair, pulling gently away from her body as he applied pressure to her shoulder, a moan ripped from her before she even knew it was building up.

Jason froze at the sound, instantly releasing her hair.  It took a few moments before he could continue on the other side but when she made the same noise again, he had to take a step back.  “You have to stop doing that, Pixie, or I’m going to have to leave.”

“But it feels so good,” she groaned.

He continued to stare at her for a few moments, his mind warring over how to respond.  He was being respectful.  He was giving her space and time so they could build up trust, but she was playing dirty, and if she was ready… “Anytime you want me to make you feel good, Pixie, all you have to do is ask,” he answered lowly.

At that response and tone, Marinette tensed up again.  She slowly sat up to face him.  It was too much.  She couldn’t take it any longer.  She needed to know.  “Why did you come to pick me up?  You were acting cold all week and then you came so quickly.  Why?

“You really don't get it do you,” he shook his head.  It was clear he was disappointed, but she wasn’t sure if it was with her or something or someone else. 

“No!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms out in frustration and her eyes filling with tears.  “Why have you been treating me like… like… I don’t know, like you hate me!”

“I don’t hate you!”  He interrupted, not able to hold his tongue any longer.  “I hate that you put your life in danger so cavalierly.  I hate that you don’t value yourself the way I do.  I hate that you don’t seem to see how important you are to everyone around you.  But I don’t hate you.  No, what I feel is far from hate.  It’s the opposite, in fact.”

“What does that mea…”

“I love you,” he yelled.  “I love you,” he repeated, calmer and more confident.  “I love you and I want you and I know I shouldn’t.  I know you are too innocent for me, too good, but every time I look into your eyes, see your smile, hear your laugh, watch you get lost in a project, all I can think of his how I would like to destroy that… with me.  I want so badly to feel you under me, in front of me, around me, obeying me, surrendering to me…”

He heaved out a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair.  “Marinette,” he groaned out breathlessly, “the things I would like to do to you.”

“Tell me…” she begged, “please.”

His fingers were shaky, barely able to keep them under control as he trailed them over her face and neck.  He ran his fingers over her neck a few times distractedly, almost like he was imagining the things he would do until he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him crashing his lips to hers.

His chapped lips chaffed against her soft ones.  It caused an exquisite kind of sensation compiling the already overwhelming feelings of finally, finally feeling him reciprocate her feelings.  She was getting lost in all the sensations and emotions.  It was too much and she hoped it never ended.  His kisses were bruising and possessive, like he was claiming her as his, and she wanted nothing more than to surrender to him.

Far too soon, he took a step back, the effort involved seemingly as painful for him as it was for her.  His eyes dark and his chest heaving as hard as hers.  “You are trouble,” he heaved through gasping breaths.  It was another few breaths before he continued with more control.  “You need to sleep.  We can discuss this tomorrow.”

She barely contained the whine that built up at the loss of him, but it still came out in her tone.  “Can’t we continue tonight and talk tomorrow?”

The offer was so tempting, too tempting, just like her.  He had to close his eyes and take a few deep, steadying breaths.  “No.  We need to have a conversation first.  About what we want, what we expect… limits.  And I want us both sober and well rested before we have that conversation.”  She nodded like she understood but couldn’t remove her gaze from his lips so he wasn’t quite sure.

Finally, her eyes lifted to meet his.  “Can you still stay?  Not for,” she motioned vaguely between them, “just… hold me?”

She looked up at him so innocently, so sweetly, so dangerously, he couldn’t say no even knowing he should.  They should take time to detox from these feelings and think rationally, but she had always had that effect on him, making him act irrationally.  “Always, Pixie.”

She smiled softly as she took his hand and guided him to her bed, climbing in slowly, keeping constant eye contact, like she was afraid he might disappear if she broke it for even an instant.  He followed her lead, stalking behind prey.  She didn’t break eye contact until she had laid down and turned over, pulling his hand with her to keep him close, which he eagerly obliged, crawling in right behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her against him in a protective, peaceful position.

The peace only lasted a few moments before she started wiggling in his arms.  The wiggling wouldn’t have been an issue except it ended up causing her to wiggle against extremely sensitive areas… repeatedly.  “Pixie, you have got to stop wiggling.”

“Sorry,” she whispered earnestly.  “I just can’t seem to settle.”

He groaned, though it came out as more of a moan because he knew.  He knew what she needed to settle and it just proved even further that she was absolutely perfect for him.  He snaked his arm up from her waist, between her breasts and rested his hand lightly around her throat, tensing his arm to trap her against him in a protective, possessive position.

She melted into him letting out a contented sigh, falling asleep almost instantly.  Noting the change in her breathing pattern, Jason let out a long sigh.  “I am so completely screwed,” he mumbled to himself before following her to sleep, knowing he couldn’t wait for it to happen.

[dejilovesmochi]

Here for you.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ . .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ . .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ . .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

╰┈➤ Summary: Jungwon comes to help you as you are going through a rough time.

✩ ◛ ° genre: angst to fluff/comfort

!! Warnings !! - depression, thoughts of sh and suicide, reader is going through a depressive episode, reader has bad anger, probably cringe cause it’s my first time writing, not proof read.

Pairing: Jungwon x gn! reader

You laid there. Feeling nothing. Thinking nothing. You had been laying in bed for who knows how long, only getting up to use the bathroom. Everything just felt so hopeless.

Knock knock

The sound of someone knocking on your door took you out of your thoughts and back to reality. Thinking it was just one of your friends who have been trying to get a hold of you due to you ghosting everyone, you didn’t bother answering the door and continued to stare at the wall. It wasn’t until you heard the door unlocked which means it could only be one person. Jungwon, who you had given your spare key to while ago.

Shit. You looked like a mess and so did everything around you. How can you even let him see you like this.

As you were busy stressing on what to do next, the door to your bedroom opened.

You quickly turned towards the wall and acted like you were asleep, hoping that he would just go away, but to your disappointment you felt the bed dip next to you. instead of feeling happy that he was here you just felt anger. Why is everyone always bothering you? Why can you just have some peace and quiet for once?

“Jagiya…” Your boyfriend said from behind you. “What’s wrong….” His eyes scanned your body, heart breaking in the process.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t feel like talking. Hell, you didn’t even feel like living.

“Talk to me baby…” he tried again, still getting no response.

After about 5 minutes of him just sitting there with his hand on your shoulder you spoke up. “Go away…”

“Why….” He says with obvious worry in his voice.

“I don’t want to see you or anyone..” you replied a lot harsher than you intended.

“I want to know what’s going on… did something happen? Did I do something?…” he says, pleading with you to tell him.

“Nothing is wrong!” You snap as you can feel your emotions getting the best of you.

Jungwon just sighs and rubs your shoulder. “Don’t push me away y/n… I know something is wrong…. I want to help you… but you have to talk to me…”

How much times did you have to tell him. Nothing is wrong… or at least that’s what you try to convince yourself.

“Please just go I- I can’t…” You say as you sit up, trying your best to avoid eye contact with him because you know you’ll start crying.

“I’m not leaving till I know you’re alright…” he replied as his hand moved a piece of hair from your face.

You quickly turned your head the other direction. You felt the tears come up to your eyes and a burning feeling in your throat.

Jungwon seemed to notice and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into him.

You notice the tears fall from your eyes as Jungwon hugs you and you try so hard to get out of his grip, not wanting to break down infront of him. You use your arms to push him away, it doesn’t work. He was just so much stronger than you.

You feel yourself crying even more now and as a result of not wanting him to hug you, you start hitting him, trying to get away. (not very hard of course but you get the idea)

“Stop…” he says as he still holds onto you even tho you are hitting him.

You keep going at it until you feel his hands around your wrists, gently stopping you.

“Stop jagiya….” He says looking down at you in concern before hugging you even tighter.

Beginning to give up you just cry. You lean on him and cry your heart out not even caring if you look like a mess. Not even caring about anything.

All you could think of was “I messed up” “how can things go back to normal after this” “he’s gonna look at me differently now”

You continue to sob in his arms as you overthink about the outcome of your actions.

His hand begins to let go of your wrist and rests on your upper arm instead.

The thoughts slowly fade away as you focus on the boy who is currently hugging you like his life depended on it.

His head rests on top of yours, his arms are securely wrapped around you, he’s just so comforting.

After a while of just sitting like this and you calming down, Jungwon speaks up “are you ready to tell me what’s been going on?…”

“I don’t even know…. I- I can’t explain it…” you start feeling yourself getting worked up again.

“Hey…. It’s ok….. try your best…” he says calmly.

“I just…. I have no energy… I have no motivation…. I can’t see myself having a future… I don’t know what to do anymore… And I messed everything up… I can’t just go back to my normal life after this I- I pushed everyone away… they all hate me now probably…. I have nobody… all because I felt sad for no fucking reason…” you start to tear up again “god I just hate myself…. I hate my life… I should’ve just killed mys-“

“Woah woah…” Jungwon said cutting you off “ok… breathe baby…”

“You asked what was wrong so I’m telling you…” you reply.

“Yes I did but… don’t talk like that… I understand you might be feeling that way but don’t say that…” He takes a deep breath before speaking again “I don’t want you to be in that type of head space again… I-“

“Well it’s to fucking late…” you snap back at him, cutting him off in the process.

Jungwon is just at a loss for words, he hasn’t seen you this depressed since your friend died… if anything, this was worse.

“Don’t say that…. Do you understand how many people would be sad if you died? Your friends, your family, the members, me? I would be devastated. I can’t live without you Jagiya…” he says as he starts to tear up “I want you to listen to me… there is no situation worth dying for… no matter how bad it is I promise it will get better…”

“YOU SAY THAT AND IT NEVER DOES” you exclaim.

“You just have to wait sweetie… I know it’s hard… but if you don’t want to live for yourself then do it for me… I love you so much… I would do anything for you…” tears slip down his cheeks “we still have so much to do together… please don’t give up… I still need to marry you… I still need to spoil you, I still need to cuddle with you.. I just.. need you….”

You find yourself starting to sob again as you listen to him, Actually feeling like you’re needed for once.

“I love you so so so so so so so much….. do you understand that” he says looking at your crying figure.

You just nod, not being able to speak.

He pulls you into him once again, beginning to cry even more.

It takes awhile for you both to calm down but when you do, you guys just lay there. Silence takes over the room as you hold each other. Eventually falling asleep.

4:26 AM

Jungwon wakes up to the feeling of you sitting up. He rubs his eyes sleepily before speaking. “Are you ok Jagiya?”

“I’m really sorry wonnie…” you say with guilt in your voice.

“Huh…” he sits up “why…”

“I’m sorry for the way I acted… you were just trying to help me and I-….. I was being such a bitch…” you pout

“Hey… no hard feelings… I get it… you didn’t do anything wrong…” he says as he pulls you into him.

You sigh “oh my gosh I’m actually disgusting…”

He can’t help but laugh a bit “what?”

“Do you realize I haven’t showered in two days” you say with a joking attitude.

“Doesn’t even matter baby…” he happily continues to cuddle you.

“I feel so gross tho…” you say as the feeling of your unclean clothes was grossing you out more and more by the minute.

“You don’t I run you a bath then hm?” He says as he presses his lips together, his dimples showing.

“That sounds nice…” you reply before poking his dimples.

He giggles before kissing your cheek and getting up to run you a bath.

After a bit you get in the bath and he helps you wash up, being very gentle with you as if you’re made of glass.

You get all cleaned up and Jungwon gets you new pjs before making you eat something even tho you aren’t really in the mood for it.

“I’m not hungry :(“ you pout.

“I’m not asking, eat” he says as he pokes the fork to your mouth.

As you taste the food your hunger immediately catches up to you. Not eating for almost three days really messed you up.

Jungwon giggles as he watches you absolutely devour the food and water he gave you.

“Why are you laughing” you ask, shooting him a glare,

“No reason… you’re just so pretty” he says, mesmerized by your beauty.

“Stopppppp” you blush and look the other way.

“Stopppppp” he mocks you.

“Whateverrrr” you say back in a jokingly annoyed voice.

After you finish your meal you get sleepy again.

“Can we go back to bed….” You say drowsily.

“Of course jagiya…” he says softly before picking you up and laying you down in bed before getting in next to you.

Ding

You and Jungwon both look over to the night stand that his phone is laying on.

It was a text from Jay.

Jay: hey are you coming to practice?

Jungwon sighs as he forgot he even had it. But he didn’t care anyways, you’re more important.

Jungwon: no im not feeling the best.

He texts Jay back with a casual lie.

Jay: alright feel better.

Jungwon puts his phone back down on the nightstand before looking at you.

“Who was that?” You ask curiously.

“Just Jay… I forgot we have practice today… I wouldn’t have gone even if I remembered… you’re more important…” he says hugging you to his chest.

“Thanks for dealing with me” you say nuzzling him.

“Don’t mention it…. I would do anything for you… remember that…” he says resting his head on yours. “I love you Jagiya…”

“I love you too..” you say as you shut your eyes.

He kisses your head before you both drift off to sleep, feeling comfortable, no distractions, no worries.

Just each other.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

A/N: this took me forever, I kinda projected on this a little so my bad. If you’re ever feeling like this remember, it’s ok to ask for help. I’m always here if anyone needs to talk. Love ya <3

[sweetracha]

Can i request a smut/fluff of felix and her having their first time?

Just imagine it! I feel like Chan and Felix would be the best for Virgin!Reader

First Time With Felix

All Felix wanted to do tonight was hold you. He had been gone too long and missed the way you felt in his arms. You two were still a young couple, only meeting 2 months before the dome tour started. You were like glass to him, the finest of china. You were an expensive, limited edition, collector's item that everyone wanted but only he had. When you confessed to him on the night of your first kiss together, that you were still a virgin, Felix had a mix of emotions. He wanted to protect you, ruin you, soothe you, corrupt you, but most importantly, he just wanted to love you. Lixie hushed you as he wiped

a single tear from your eye.

"Sweet girl, we will take all the time in the world."

So how you both ended up in this position was anyone's guess. It moved so quickly that he swore he had whiplash. Both of you were snuggling like you always do, Felix half lying on the couch while you curled into him like his own little kitten. You even purred when he ran his fingers through your hair. However, one of his rings got caught and pulled a bit harsher than he would have liked. Your body went tense as a noise of pain spilled from your lips.

"Kitten! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." He quickly sat you both up so he could look for any signs of pain in your face. When he was met with wide eyes, he was shocked.

"Felix…I know you would never hurt me"

"Thank you, Kitten. What's on your mind bub? You are still so tense" He massaged your arms but that only made you more stiff.

"Lixie… never mind" you trailed off. A soft hand met your chin and gently forced eye contact. Felix always had a way to take control in the most caring way.

"No pretty baby, we've talked about this. You need to communicate with me. Words pretty girl" The slight command in his statement made you feel some type of way.

"You would never hurt me" You stated more to the wind than to him

"That's right baby girl, where are you going with this?"

"You would never hurt me, therefore you'd only ever make me feel good." The sparkle in your eyes hinted at your suggestion but Felix was worried to read into it.

"Babygirl" His hold got a bit tighter on you. "I need you to be very clear with this next answer. What are you wanting me to do?"

"I want you to take my virginity"

"Baby that's a big--"

"PLEASE! I can't take it anymore. Every single time I think of you I get this feeling that won't go away. Then when you are here it gets worse! I'm desperate at this point, Please!" that final line was laced with a whine. Felix was pretty sure you didn't know what your begging was doing to him but he would teach you one day. Tonight was just about you.

Now you are both naked in bed as he is 2 fingers deep to the knuckle inside of you. He wishes he savored the moments before this more but once he saw a sliver of your body, his mind went blank and instinct took over.

"Please 'ixie. Too much!"

"Shhhhh pretty baby. Do you want to stop? Tell me what you are feeling."

"DON'T STOP PLEASE DON'T STOP" You clung to his wrist as if he would float away.

"I'm right here baby. I'm not leaving" A deep chuckle left the back of his throat. "Sweetheart, I think you need to cum"

"I CAN'T"

"Yes, you can. You are my good girl right?" you nodded your head frantically. "Then let go all over my hand and I'll reward you for being so. sweet. and perfect. for. me" Each of those last words was followed by a tender kiss to your face.

You clenched around his fingers as the room went white. The last thing you heard was a loud gasp leave your throat followed by the sound of Felix unzipping his jeans.

"Good. Fucking. Girl"

(Part 2??)

[x-uno]

Troubled Youth. | OPLA HS!AU x reader

︵͡ ⁺ here it is everyone, OPLA Highschool ! AU - (:

    𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼

CHAPTER 1. | LIBRARY FIASCO

WELL SHIT, this isn’t how you pictured your week would go. 

Beside you, a boy with unruly green hair walked in silence. His stoic expression remained unchanged, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease in his presence.  

A heavy cloud of frustration hung over you. Exams, stress, and late-night study sessions had been enough to worry about, but now you had a broken door and a disciplinary issue to contend with.

"I can't believe I got roped into this."

He glanced at you, gaze steady. "Yeah, well, shit happens. Can't change it now."

"I've been studying like crazy, and now this," You continued, voice tinged with frustration. "It's like the universe is conspiring against me." Stupid universe. Haven’t you suffered enough as it is? The whole situation was absurd, and the fact that you were now the talk of the school only added insult to injury.

"And it had to be the library door, of all things! The one place I couldn't afford to get in trouble. Just my luck."

The whispers and curious glances from your classmates only fueled your frustration. You and him were the center of attention now, the students responsible for breaking the library's entrance. It was a far cry from the low-profile, diligent student you had always aimed to be.

As you reached the school's disciplinary office, the principal, Mr. Garp greeted you both with a stern expression. "Y/N, Zoro," Mr. Garp began, his tone grave. "I hope you both understand the gravity of what happened. Breaking the library's entrance door is not something we take lightly here at this school."

You stammered, trying to explain, "It was an accident, Mr. Garp. We didn't mean to—"

Zoro interrupted, his voice steady, "We'll take responsibility for the damage and make sure it gets fixed."

Mr. Garp raised an eyebrow, impressed by Zoro's straightforward approach. "Very well. But this won't go unpunished. You'll have to do some cafeteria service to make up for this, and I'll have a word with your teachers about your upcoming exams."

Y/N sighed in relief that Mr. Garp was willing to consider their explanation and that they wouldn't face harsher consequences. Cafeteria service didn't sound pleasant, but it was better than the alternative.

"Thank you, Mr. Garp." Y/N said, grateful for the somewhat lenient decision.

With that, you were dismissed from Mr. Garp's office, and the weight of your situation sank in even further.

-

YESTERDAY.

-

Exams were looming, and the pressure was mounting. You had decided to put in some late-night hours at the school library, determined to cram in as much knowledge as possible before the dreaded tests the next day.

You settled into a quiet corner, surrounded by a fortress of textbooks, notebooks, and hastily scribbled notes. The clock on the wall seemed to tick faster with each passing minute, a constant reminder of the impending exams.

As you delved into your books, your focus was unwavering, your determination resolute. You knew that this late-night session could make all the difference between success and failure. But as the hours dragged on and exhaustion began to claw at your senses. 

The fatigue settled in, and your eyelids grow heavy. With a deep sigh, you decided to rest your head on your arms for just a brief moment, thinking a short nap might recharge your energy.

CRASH!

You  jolted awake, disoriented and bewildered. 

The glass door leading to the library had been shattered.

You quickly scanned the scene, realizing you are not alone in this bizarre predicament. The culprit stood before the door, fists clenched.

"What the fuck, dude?" You stammered, mind racing to comprehend the situation.

He seemed equally taken aback by your presence, perhaps not expecting anyone to be in the library at this late hour. His eyes darted around, assessing the situation. "I didn't expect anyone to be here," he muttered, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and surprise.

You  couldn't help but notice the chaos you were now part of. The glass shards on the floor, the frigid night air rushing in, and the impending threat of getting caught in a mess.

"Wha- what are you doing? Why did you punch the door? What did the door do to you?!" You asked, trying to sound more assertive than you felt, you stood up from your makeshift study area, books and notes scattered on the table. The adrenaline coursing through your veins began to drive away the remnants of sleep, and you needed answers quickly.

''We got locked out.''

You frowned at his response, finding it difficult to believe that someone would resort to breaking into a library because they got locked out. 

"Locked out?" you repeated, still trying to wrap your head around the situation. "Breaking the door was your solution to being locked out of the library?"

"Do you have a better suggestion?" he retorted.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice tinged with exasperation. "Ever heard of calling for help? or maybe even waiting until the library opens again? Breaking the door should have been your last resort."

"Look, I didn't want to be stuck out here all night."

You couldn't help but shake your head at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, you certainly made a mess of things. Now we're both in trouble."

───

taglist: reply to be added !

© 2023 x-uno ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. 

[vampykween]

the end is near

a continuation of this drabble -> i know the end -> vampire!au masterlist you knew he was going to find you eventually, he was a bloodthirsty monster who ran faster than your eyes could perceive. you closed your eyes and laid back into the earth, in this moment you only prayed the sweet release of death would save you.

just when you’re dreaming about what death will feel like, you’re startled back into reality; only this time you’re sure you’re actually dying. sharp fangs pierce the thin skin of your neck and you can feel your blood being sucked right out of you. you try to thrash and scream in protest but your body feels weaker with every passing second. death is far harsher than you anticipated; you wonder if this is how fish feel mouth hooked open and ripped from the only world they’ve known.

just before your vision blacks out completely, you lock eyes with price’s icy blue ones. a bloody and wicked grin spreads across his pale face.

~

when you slowly come to, you can barely make out two blob-like figures looming over you. there’s a set of cold digits trailing through your hair. your entire body feels clammy and there's a wave of nausea lapping in your stomach. panicked, you try to sit up but you’re quickly pressed back down into the couch.

“easy pet, you’ve had a rough go if it.” the scruff of price’s beard tickles your ear as he tries to settle you. there’s something so soothing about the smooth yet gruff sound of his voice. you’re confused on why you can’t remember much about what you were doing earlier. you remember running - trying to get as far away as you could then suddenly nothing at all.

price coos in your ear about how worried he was when he had to come save you. what were you thinking running off like that? and when he had seen your limp body on the forest floor, his cold heart broke into two. you’re trying to let what your lover is saying sink into the crevices of your brain, but something is niggling at the back of your mind that he was lying. you turn towards ghost, leaning into the comforting feeling of him stroking your hair. your eyes search his for any other explanation, but their usual warmth is hidden behind an icy dead stare.

“he’s right, pet. ‘s a good thing he found ya when he did.”

something unsettling pricked at your skin. you felt like there was something they weren’t telling you, especially ghost, he was always honest with you. but you also knew that around price he was different. rolled over, shook, and barked when commanded like a good dog. sometimes you ponder over whether you’re the only pet in this mansion.

price’s voice tears you from your thoughts, “i’m very disappointed in you. good little pets don’t just run away from their owners. don’t you want to be so good for us, hmm?” the softness of his voice is an illusion you feel, masking the words he really wants to say. you don’t bite the hand that feeds you - or the one you feed either - less you desire getting tossed back into the wilderness and left for dead. but they’d never do that, not to their precious girl. or would they? it was moments like these that you’re reminded who you lie with: blood thirsty monsters. you are their pet, your options are to play, fuck, feed, and be fed on and that was it.

“i hate to do this love, really i do. but…” price takes a finger and trails it over the softness of your cheek. “actions have consequences and i’m afraid it’s time for yours.” you’re left with too little time to question what he means because he’s hauling you up and off the couch far too fast. both ghost and price take an arm and drag you into a dark corridor.

“no- no no no please don’t. please i’ll be good, i promise. i won’t run ever again, please don’t-“

“hush pet, begging will get you nowhere, ‘least not now. next time won’t you just always do as i say, and this won’t have to happen again.” they lead your further down the hallway until you’re face to face with a large wooden door with a small opening at the top lined with bars. you try and twist out of their grasp, but it only makes their hands tighten further around you. how could you be so stupid, thinking these actual monsters would be any kinder than your ex.

price steps behind you and whispers something into ghost’s ear, you can’t hear it but it must be some command because he stands even straighter and taller and his grip becomes deadly. he unlocks the menacing door and drags you inside. there’s nothing but a small iron bed with a thin mattress laying atop. the rest of the room is completely barren. price must’ve been satisfied enough because he zips away once ghost has you settled on the bed.

a shaky hand comes to caress at his face and he stills at the feeling. “ghost please, don’t leave me down here. it was a mistake, you know me. please…”

he pries your hand off his face and shakes his head furiously. “stop it. you can’t just do whatever you want and expect me to save you from it. you’re not the only one i’m loyal to.” and there it was. all those moments in the library, the stolen glances and soft kisses were nothing compared to the iron fist price had on ghost. how foolish of you to think you could ever come between a man and his master.

any fight left in you dies out at his words, there was no saving you from your fate. you weren’t sure how long you’d been in this godforsaken room, but for the second time you wished of nothing but the liberation of death.

[idyllic-affections]

Hi! I love your blog!

Can I request an older brother scaramouche comforting a teen!reader who cries a lot? Probably from loud noises or frequent bouts of anxiety

the art of being gentle.

summary. the balladeer does not need to be gentle to show that he cares.

trigger & content warnings. anxiety, scara's a bit mean but he does mean well, etc.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. comfort. scaramouche & younger sibling!reader. 0.6k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. hello lovely! thank you sm. a random thought, but a lot of people seem to quite like platonic scara content? i don't mind writing for him at all, since most people on my blog seem to be fond of my rendition of him, but i just thought it was interesting hehe

scaramouche is an easily agitated man.

his workload is difficult enough to manage as it is. being a harbinger, contrary to what the lower ranked members of the fatui seem to think, does not simply mean being out on the field constantly. it doesn't simply mean fulfilling the tsaritsa's international desires, such as snatching gnoses from their godly owners. it doesn't simply mean bloodshed. there is far more to it than that.

there's paperwork.

there's a fuck ton of paperwork.

scaramouche very much loathes that part of his job. he sometimes thinks of hiring someone else (more like threatening someone else) to do it, but then again... any error could be held against him in the end. he always ends up doing the mountains of work himself. as such, the balladeer does not take kindly to interruptions.

the knock on his office door, meek and quiet, makes his head snap up. the grip on his pen tightens slightly. with irritation evident in his voice, he sneers, "what?"

a wave of what he thinks is guilt or regret washes over him when his sibling—his cherished baby sibling, the most important person to him—steps into his office and shuts the door behind them with trembling hands. fuck... he feels impossibly bad, though he shoves those feelings down into the depths of his mind to the best of his ability with a slight grimace. a weight settles on his chest almost immediately he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. his expression then softens slightly.

no, the sixth is not gentle. he is not. he hasn't been gentle for a very long time.

even so, he'll do his best. he hates seeing them cry, and based on the shimmery gloss over their eyes... they are about to, his tone doing nothing to help their emotional state.

he tries to think of something to say—are you okay? what's on your mind? who made you feel this way? the words, however, do not come out. his throat tightens. it's as if the simple thought alone of expressing concern for another being made him uncomfortable. it was unfamiliar territory, in his defense. scaramouche has not had to worry about another's wellbeing for... centuries, maybe. he can't recall the last time he verbally consoled someone.

"sit down."

it comes out harsher than he intends, and he winces slightly at the sound of his own voice. he fidgets with the pen in his hands. suddenly, the paperwork on his desk—expense reports for the regrator, mission reports for the jester—seems far less relevant.

he still doesn't say anything. he only observes silently as his sibling settles in the chair in front of his desk.

"um," they begin, swallowing back some of their anxiety as they fidget with the edge of their sleeves. "i know you're busy. i'm sorry."

"the hell are you apologizing for?"

"just... um, just for being bothersome, since i know you have work to do and—"

"the other harbingers can fucking wait," he mutters, rolling his eyes. "you come before those heartless bastards, always. spit it out. what happened?"

no, the balladeer is not known for being gentle, but he cares.

maybe it's hard for others to comprehend, but when he always ends up holding them tightly in his arms as he finishes up the last of his work with one hand, the other's calloused fingertips drawing random shapes on their upper arm, it's obvious to the one person who matters.

being gentle is an art that scaramouche may very well never master, but in the end...

he doesn't have to be gentle to show that he cares.

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