#i analysed a few shows already

[malachitezmeyka]

Okay as fun as this rewatch is I think I'm gonna stop for tonight because I'm tired, have a slight headache and also haven't eaten in eight hours

I've only made it through 20 minutes of episode 1, send help

[lexcys]

★ crimson tension rafe cameron x reader

summary: who knew rafe getting beat up and being vulnerable would end up giving him what he needed most - comfort

warnings: blood, wound description

a/n: ughh this took so long to write but it was worth it cuz I made myself giggle and kick my feet a few times. maybe this is a little cliche but I’m a sucker for these so sorry not sorry

loud music blasted over the speakers, laughter and unfamiliar voices rang around the manor, people spilled out from every room, clutching red plastic cups. the air was thick with the smell of beer and something sweet mixed with a faint undertone of sweat, the wide open doors leading to the cameron garden offered little relief, serving more as a passage to the outdoors than a true escape from the stifling atmosphere of tannyhill

the kitchen was a maze of half-empty bottles, red solo cups, and a few glasses perched on the edge of every counter. it was hard to believe none had shattered, considering the steady flow of people jostling past each other

right as you are about to take yet another shot you hear some barely audible shouting

curiosity overtaking your body faster than your mind and your legs start moving on their own accord, shot getting lost on the counter. making your way through the crowd but merely getting to the hallway as a mass of people block off the way and view to the living room, you hear a loud voice that undoubtedly belongs to rafe

whispers and 'oohs' pass through the crowd, before you notice rafe pushing past people with practiced ease, not bothering to acknowledge anyone as he moves forward. his focus unwavering, his movements deliberate as he makes his way toward you, a destination in mind

you catch a glimpse of the huge gash right above his eybrow - your eyes widen and you move towards him

after seeing his look and eyes you realize why he doesn’t react to you calling out his name - whatever substance he had taken prior was showing on his face, the haze clouding his expression, a disheveled look, glassy eyes with dilated pupils, fluoride stare as well as furrowed brows were noticeable as he brushes right past you

you glance around the room and the absence of attention on rafe doesn’t go unnoticed. you realise whoever had been on the other end of his rage must look worse - a chill runs down your spine imagining the ugly sight

being sarahs friends, tannyhill was not a foreign place for you so you knew where he was headed as he moved up the stairs

you hesitate but decide to follow him, once you’ve reached his room you rethink whether or not to knock, uncertainty creeping in but the worry gnaws at you too strongly - after calling out to him and getting no answer you enter the dimly lit room

the music dampens as you close his door. you pay no attention to his room, a already familiar space, your eyes immediately noticing him right ahead

the weight of the silence between you both grows heavier as you step closer, torn between reaching out and giving him space

he’s standing on his balcony, slumped onto the railing all though theres so much tension present in his shoulders that you can see it from a few meters away. his eyes are fixed on the ocean, the smoke lingering in the air making it evident that there was a cigarette resting between his fingers

he merely spares you a glance when you say his name again, turning around without muttering a single word

carefully you make your way toward him, situating yourself onto his right in complete silence, taking in the scene before you - the music has gotten louder and you look down at the people dancing below you, they payed absolutely no mind to rafe above them and in comparison to the loud laughs and voices the ocean before you was calm - the steady motion of the water, the endless horizon, seeming to soothe him

analysing his face you conclude that whatever fight had just occured - it was a heavy one - rafe had a busted lip, bruised knuckles, a bruise was already forming on his nose and the eybrow gash that was bleeding rather harshly. your face twists imagining how much his head must be throbbing

right now was not the time - but you also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he has never looked hotter

the moonlight hit his face just right, highlighting his tired eyes, making the blood adorning his face less unsettling, cigarette held between blood covered fingers, his knuckles bruised and bleeding, yet there’s something almost striking about the way his hands look, the way they’re still so perfectly shaped, even in their damaged state - his pain and his beauty so closely intertwined. even in this state, even with blood streaked across his face, there’s something undeniably captivating about him.

quickly pushing those thoughts aside you catch rafe looking at you for a second with a seemingly emotionless look, tension still present in his eybrows

you know he probably wanted to be left alone, his body language said it all. the desire to comfort him tugs at you, wanting to step forward and reach out, to brush your fingers along his jaw, to caress the sharpness of his stern yet tender face

''why are you here?'', he bites in a monotone tone, ripping you out of your thoughts

you clear your throat, ''I just wanted to see if you’re alright... maybe help you,” you say, the words feel awkward, out of place, like you’re intruding

his eyes snap to you, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something sharp, almost like a reflex. then, it morphs into a cold, bitter look of disgust. “I don’t need any help,” he mutters

''rafe you’re bleeding - badly'', you utter throwing a glance toward the gash which, even in bad lightning, was clearly deeper than he realized as it had oozed so much blood that it had almost covered the right side of his face. ''I just-'' you falter before sighing, ''I didn’t know what happened and I was concerned''

you weren’t entirely sure why you were confessing your concern - it wasn’t exactly something that came naturally with rafe cameron. the alcohol in your system seemed to loosen the edge

seemingly bother by you answer, not even sparing you a look he replies, ''I don’t need your pity, run back to sarah or something'' he motions you away with his hand

you bite your lip, clearly fighting a mental battle whether or not to leave him alone. you notice his hands shaking, not sure whether it was from anger pain or something else

slightly tipsy you gather the courage to ask once again, pushing his annoyance aside because you so desperately want to help him, feeling your heart hurt seeing him like this

you try one last time, ''your hands are shaking, you sure you can patch yourslef up? I really just wanna help you rafe. but if you really want me to go say it - then Ill leave'', finishing you realize how pathetic you sounded, internally cringing but hoping it would convince him and make him see that you really did care about him

silence

rafe looks at you quickly noticing your concerned face filled with worry, even though his look was quick you notice that it changed, something changed, but before you can even get close to figuring out what he turns back around and takes a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling up in the cool air, his gaze fixed straight ahead, not meeting yours again

he exhales slowly, the smoke drifting up in a haze, but the tension in the air thickens instead of easing

defeated, you turn away, the weight of the silence too much to bear. you don’t say anything, no last attempt to reach him

suddenly you hear a quiet ''wait'' from rafe, so faint it wouldn’t have been audible if you had taken two more steps

you turn your head around quickly, trying to figure out if he really just said that but when you catch him putting out his cigarette into the ashtray you realise that he did

he turns around as you take a few steps towards him. his face barely visible from his dark room - only illuminated lightly by the moonlight and the soft glow from the party below - holds a stern and tense look, his jaw clenched with tension, vulnerability present in his eyes

rafe still hasn’t said another word but you’re easily able to read his expression and figure out what he wants you to do

relief washing over you you exhale a big breath, ''okay where’s the med kit?''

''bathroom'', is the only thing he says, voice low, eyes still focused on you - unwavering

you turn around and step into the bathroom, the small space a contrast to the size of his bedroom. quickly you begin searching the cabinets, your mind already running through the steps you’d need to take. already thinking about where would be the best place to clean and dress his wound, somewhere where he can sit down, somewhere you can work without too much trouble - before finding the med kit under his sink

a subtle warmth creeps up your neck, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. you turn around noticing him standing in the doorway, leaning against the door - watching you with those empty yet pleading eyes before his gaze flickers over to the mirror - he’s lost in his reflection for a moment, studying himself

rafe stands there for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. then, with a quiet click, he closes the door behind him, fully stepping into the bathroom. the music muffles and the air between you tightens. you swallow, heart racing - you try to focus on the medkit in your hands. he moves past you slowly, sitting down on the toilet lid

right now, in the bright light of the bathroom, you’re finally able to see the full extent of his wounds as he holds his head up, avoiding your gaze. examining his wounds you settle on tending to his eyebrow first

you can tell that he’s not ready to talk about the fight or whatever happened. the air is heavy and something in his silence tells you not to push. so, you don’t, you stay quiet. setting the med kit down on the counter searching for the right tools, you feel suffocated by the silence, so awfully aware of every, rigid and nervous, breath you took

ready you turn back to rafe whose gaze is set onto the ground, still lost in thought - you try to clear your throat to catch his attention, to notify him that you’re ready and willing to tend to his wounds

he looks at you with a look, a look so vulnerable and hurt that it pulled at your heart. whatever he was just thinking must’ve hit him hard - the weight of it is there, written across his face, and you feel it in your chest. rafe’s eyes still carry that glassy, fluorid stare, as if he's still not fully aware of everything around him, making you wonder if he even realizes how much he’s letting slip

you figure that however you were to approach this - it would be awkward either way

you looked at him with a nervous look, alcohol-soaked cotton pad in hand - standing right in front of him, you hesitated as your eyes met his. he lifts his head a little farther up for you to get better access to his wounds. rafe is leaning forward, legs spread with his forearms resting on his knees, crossing his hands slightly in front of him infront - still at an awkward length until he fully uncrosses his hands, resting them on his knees. you waited, unsure if you’re allowed to enter the space, looking for a look of approval in his distant eyes. he nods - the faintest movement of his head, barely visible

his eyes carry a look that’s hard to read, an expression that makes you wonder if there’s a storm raging inside his mind or if he’s drifting into an unsettling emptiness

settling in between his knees - still trying to keep some sort of distance, unsure what was or wasn’t crossing the line, you bring the cotton pad up to his face. you gently start cleaning off the, mostly already, dried blood before moving on to his gash. the second it hits his skin again his eyes - which have been avoiding yours from the second he nodded - close, his jaw clenching pain evident although he tried not to show it, putting up some sort of barrier to, even in this vulnerable state, seem unbothered - strong

while cleaning you notice his hands, resting on his knees, and fingers lightly grazing against the fabric of your shorts, the lightest of touches—almost like a subconscious gesture. it’s a small movement, barely noticeable, but the tension it creates fills the space between you

you focus on your task, but it’s harder now, your hand faltering slightly with each light graze of his fingers

the delicate movement of his fingers almost like a distraction from the physical discomfort he’s trying to hide so well. it makes you wonder if he’s trying to ground himself, or if he’s just too lost in the moment to notice what he’s doing

after cleaning everything off in the best way you could you apply some zip stitches to at least momentarily close the wound. his breath hitches as you press the last stitch into place, but he doesn’t move or make a sound, the mask of stoic restraint still firmly in place

you couldn’t figure out if rafe was actually aware that he was pulling you closer to himself

by the time you were ready to clean his lip the distance between you was so minimal that you could barely clean it properly. the closeness making every slight movement feel amplified now, the soft brush of his breath, the faint tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flicker between avoiding yours and briefly meeting your gaze

you gently press the cotton to his lip, your fingers grazing his skin in the process. the way his gaze flicks up to meet yours for a split second makes your heart skip, throwing off your rhythm.

you hesitate for a moment, your heart racing in the silence between you. the closeness is overwhelming, and you know you need to steady yourself, to find a way to regain control. your fingers tremble slightly as you lift your hand, almost instinctively, and you gently place it on the side of his face. the warmth of his skin is a shock, he lets out a soft exhale which you wouldn’t have noticed if you werent holding his face with your hand - but he doesn’t pull away.

you angle his face just enough to get a better view, but the movement feels more like an anchor for yourself, the subtle pressure of your hand on his skin keeps you tethered, even as the air between you thickens with something unsaid

you press the pad to his lip slowly, careful and deliberate, but your fingers linger on his skin longer than necessary, your thumb lightly brushing the edge of his jaw. his breath brushes against you, warm and shallow

it’s hard to focus with the way his gaze lingers on you, the way your hand feels on his face

his lips part quickly as you tend his wound - the area lightly swollen, thankfully not comparable to his eyebrow gash

you finish tending to his face, placing a last small plaster, hurting at the loss of contact. you take a look back and admire your work and him. the quiet stillness between you both feels oddly heavy, but the comfort of knowing he’s patched up - protected for now - settles in

you dread saying the words a loud, not wanting to lose this moment, not wanting to end it - not sure what it even was

''done''

the hands behind you tighten their grip, slowly pulling you even closer, eliminating the space between you. your body freezes for a second - caught off guard. his head reasts on your upper body, sending a wave of warmth through you, and for a moment, you're aware of every breath, every beat of your heart

his breath is steady, slow, but there’s an unmistakable force in the way he holds you, a quiet urgency that makes your mind go blank

his grip, though firm, isn't forceful - more like an unspoken invitation, urging you, pleading you, to stay within the space he's created. he held on with such a purpose - it made it seem like you would evaporate the second he let go

you place one hand gently in his hair, testing the waters, seeing if he'd be comfortable with you running your fingers through it. the other one rests on his back

rafe flinches when you tryto pull him closer, putting pressure on his back

you let the moment linger for a few seconds more before speaking up, breaking the comforting silence which rested between you, ''rafe let me see your back''

he pulls back and looks at you for a second, his look completely unreadable. this time he complied. he stands up with a slow, deliberate motion and turns around. he lifts his shirt as far up as he could, pain clearly holding him back. gently taking hold of the shirt from his hand, you ease the fabric upward, careful to avoid causing him any more pain as you lift it higher

his back is painted with all sorts of colours - some bruises worse than others. you flinch at the sight, although you’re a little relieved to see no cuts

seeing there is nothing you can do you let his shirt fall back down, very carefully smoothing it on his back - hoping to provide some comfort with the soft touch

as you move next to him to rest a hand on his bicep, you ask him with a hushed voice, ''can I get you a new shirt'', meeting his gaze, ''yours is full of blood''

fully aware that the line that was not to be crossed has now become blurred

rafe nodded

you leave his side, moving to his drawer - your fingers fumble slightly as you sift through the clothes, searching for a shirt. you pick out a loose one, one that would not press against his back too much or that would be a struggle to put on

he now sat on his bed, patiently waiting for you, watching you

you turn back to him, seeing his eyes, his expression. a storm of thoughts no longer visible, only exhaustion

''is this one okay?'' you questioned. he nodded before clearing his throat and lowering his gaze, ''can you help me put it on'', clearly exhausted

you pull hisshirt up slowly, carefully and for a moment you’re stunned, staring in silence. the sight that greets you is just as shocking as it is heartbreaking - his chest is as bruised as his back

rafe is clearly avoiding your eyes, looking to his left with a tense jaw

without saying another word you pull the other shirt over his head, standing before him, ''are you gonna go back down?''

he replies with a shake of his head, ''no''

you quietly stars at him for a few seconds more, debating how to continue then letting your legs carry you towards the bathroom to clean up. but just as you turn to leave, you feel his hand snap out, gripping your wrist with a force that sent a jolt through your body. the touch was immediate, urgent, as though he couldn’t let you go. but then, as quickly as it had come, his grip softened, the tension draining away as he loosened his hold

your eyes flicker back to him

“stay”

[arolesbianism]

My endless cycle of thinking abt sekai characters and going into their tag to find fun fanart and then remembering why I don't go into character tags and immediately leaving

[affableramen]

them apologising for calling you bad names

hurt/comfort, established relationships

(Pantalone, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Tartaglia, Capitano, Alhaitham, Dottore, Dainsleif, Baizhu)

Pantalone

You avoid him for the rest of the day but eventually in the bed time Pantalone meets you. He enters the bedroom with a grave expression in his eyes, eyeing you sit there on the bed with a book in your hands. Distracting, he thinks, she is distracting herself. 

“You know I didn't utter those words seriously”, Pantalone says, omitting the usual ‘darling’ on his lips. You roll your eyes and shake your head dismissively, showing him apparent unwillingness to chat over the issue any longer.

“Say”, Pantalone leans to the door, his fingers, at this moment of time, bare, scratching the roof edges of his antiquated mansion wall, “Are you deeply offended by my comment? It is but something… trivial.” Seeing no reaction from you Pantalone slowly makes his way to the bed and sits down, his body making an impact to the mattress, that being gently pressed on.

“I should have held my tongue.”

“Your tongue is poisonous”, you say abruptly. Upon hearing this, Pantalone reaches his hand to your hand and takes it in his. 

“Hear me out… Please, darling, I would never honestly speak so ill-mannered of you. It was out of stress. You are not… pathetic. Never have been.”

“Mhm. How about ‘brat’? How about ‘loving me only because I provide for the family?’” 

Pantalone closes his eyes and shakes his head. You can see how his own words inflicted upon you sting. 

“Nonsense! Not a single word I spoke then was truthful.”

“Pantalone, if I ever made you doubt my affections, please do let me know.”

You abruptly put your book on the bedside table and switch the lights off. 

Wriothesley

“Why do you keep insisting on these things? You think I don’t know them?”

“I think you’re simply less educated than me. You should understand, Y/N that in some aspects you may be less intelligent. Stupid even.”

“Less intelligent! Stupid!” 

Wriothesley covers his face and bites his own lip when he realises what unruly language he just used. 

“I didn't mean that-”

“That I’m stupid?” Your patience blows up and you decisively start strutting to the exit door of his office.

“I didn't mean to sound that harshly!” Desperately Wriothesley follows; but to no avail. You already shut your door before his nose.

A few hours after Wriothesley finds you in your two’s favourite café, of course it would be the place where you’d go to reflect on your irritation. 

“Here, your favourites”, he puts the bouquet of vivid red flowers on top of the coffee table, next to your hand, and does it with such carefulness of behaviour you would least expect from him.

You look at him, facing Wriothesley’s eyes at last and as if having your thoughts read the duke says with regret:

“And sorry.”

You take a look at the flowers, your fingers caressing the petals.

“Okay”, you respond quietly. Wriothesley receives approval from you and takes a seat, his attitude nothing but amiable, a far cry from his roughness in the morning.

Neuvillette

“I told you that some matters I unfortunately, willing or not, have to solve on my own. There is no place for you in some of my business, because you’re just one weak-” Neuvillette holds his tongue, realising how personally offensive the words he said sounded. How villainous he suddenly appeared before you.

“Human? Yeah, I know. But me being human doesn't mean I can’t think and analyse, and there’s no way I’d approve the responsibility you’re about to take on yourself. I strictly dissgree.”

“Strictly disagree?” Neuvillette does not believe his ears, for you had always been a quiet amd obedient one, quite agreeable and supportive of his opinions. Yet this time you could not stay silent, seeing how your precious husband puts himself in danger for the hundredth time.

“You are to not take on that mission, are we clear, Neuvillette? And I am not weak, neither am I dumb or uninformed.”

In awe, Neuvillette stands there, looking at you. At last he takes one careful step closer, his hand in his hair, pulling it back as he’s thinking on something with raw intensity.

“If my wife is ready to convince me so much to not do something, if she finds my impulses false, then I will do my best to refrain. Knowing how worried you might be for me, perhaps it would be wise to reject the mission first and utmost.”

You nod, your face grave, uninterested as you turn away from him and walk out of his office. Only then Neuvillette stops you, his wrist tightly on yours. 

“Please, beloved, if you could forgive me for my poor choice of words and underestimating your judgment.”

“It doesn't happen first time, Neuvillette, for being a dragon sovereign makes you incredibly stiff to perceiving others’ opinions. But I’m glad if you do truly believe me now.”

“I do. Please, don't stay furious and frustrated for long.” 

You finally smile, forgiving your dragon husband as you make haste to leave the court, otherwise dramatic Fontainian society that loves gossiping and tragedy so much, will turn your little banter into a lavish scandal.

Tartaglia

“Peanut, I just said that you can’t fight as hard as I do, I didn't mean it in a bad way.”

“Of course, Ajax. You meant it in the way ‘I’m the coolest, and you are inferior’.”

“No, no, no. It’s a misunderstanding! Hear me out, babygirl…” Tartaglia gently grips the both of your shoulders and stares intimately into your eyes.

“I just wanted… You know, I just meant…” he blushes crazily and his expression radiates sheer embarrassment as he tries to seek excuse to explain himself. “I, uhh… Consider myself a great fighter, and you are exceptionally good, too…”

“Exceptionally good?” 

“Absolutely exceptionally good, babygirl. But I am simply worried, okay? I’m scared”, he rubs your shoulders up and down, as if trying to comfort you, but in honesty it rather comforts himself. “I don’t want you hurt. So you better stay home. Training.”

“Training only, nice. I will never fight real enemies if I am constantly kept hostage in Fatui training camp.”

“You’re just… so fragile. You know what I mean?”

“Uhuh. The Eleventh considers me a weakling. Nice discovery, if you weren't my boyfriend”, you free yourself from his grasp and go about the narrow long corridor of headquarters. “I thought you would trust in me and my power a tiny bit more.”

Ajax follows you immediately, his steps agile and steady as his hand gently takes yours.

“You may come with me next time. But tomorrow, I want you safe. Okay? And please… I’d never call you weak�� Never.”

“Mm…” you gently caress his gloved hand with your thumb, almost failing to see him in the dim light, but feeling his erratic breath caused by quick talking.

Capitano

“I can’t let you do this, woman. You are acting immature. You have always been a bit naïve, but this is where you should start obeying me”, Capitano says with a harsh, yet genteel aura around him.

“And my love for you, Capitano, is also naïve?”

At that moment Capitano drops his expressionless, emotionless act and looks at you with horrified glint in his eyes. He wants to comfort you, to apologise for his words but realises that was once said cannot be taken back. Oh how he wishes he would hold his tongue for a little while longer!

“I didn't mean that, woman. You know that I would never-”

He shuts his eyes for a second, a storm of overwhelming thoughts crosses his mind over and over while you are standing before him, patiently waiting for an answer and expecting your husband to provide you with a proper one.

“You are weak… no not weak; you are frail. You need protection. And I want to protect you, but I may not be able to do it in Natlan. Not when I am wounded myself.”

“Oh, believe me, Capitano, I can and will protect myself. And you know what, big guy? I don't even need your permission to come with you anymore. You will accept me, because I am your wife, and I will be by your side. Especially, when you are wounded.”

Capitano raises his hand to caress your cheek with his knuckles, light-weight.

“You are going to get yourself in trouble, love.”

“I know my limits, and I can clearly see that my husband needs me, even though he won't ever admit it.”

The raven-haired tall gracious man with impeccably sharp aura around him speaks with emotion:

“But if you get hurt, I won’t ever be able to forgive myself.”

You stand on your tiptoes and cup his cheeks.

“Oh, Capitano, I will take care of myself just to spare you the trouble.”

Dottore

“You’re a dork, I don’t even have pity for your stupidity. You got this chemical burn deserved.”

“Said who? You’re the one treating it right now, Doctor”, you respond with a tiny smug smirk, watching how carefully and gently Dottore is working on your palm. The burn is not too big, but painful enough to prevent you from completing your tasks for today.

Dottore reveals his teeth, groaning at you, his self highly dissatisfied and frustrated. He smoothly applies a herbal-smelling ointment and covers your hand with tight bandages.

“I insist you staying home tomorrow. I will speak with Pierro and describe him the accident.”

“Surely you don't have to go to such lengths for me only, Dottore. You know, I could speak with the Jester myself.”

Dottore stabs the knife with which he had been cutting the bandages, into the desk.

“NO, he won’t even speak to you. He is very uneasy to find”, he lets out a long held sigh. “Besides, brat, I think I made it clear you need to rest at home.” He glares at you with his poisonous ruby eyes. “Primarily, in your bed.”

“If the doctor says so”, you shrug, too exhausted to argue and too grateful for his help to deny him of this small favour. “I do not mind staying in my bed for a little while.”

Once the treatment has come to an end, Dottore once again checks your hand; quickly, lightly, without a single unnecessary touch or glance. 

“Sorry for calling you a dork. I didn't mean it wholeheartedly”, he clears throat. “Though I still think your ass is highly careless.”

“I will work on it, hopefully my curiosity doesn't lead me to any other injuries”, you wave to him upon leaving the lab. “Can’t have my doctor worry too much.”

“Remember to look closer what you touch in my lab next time, silly creature.”

Dainsleif

“I think you’re forgetting how difficult it is to fight Abyss alone. I can’t believe you disobeyed me again and went seeking for abyssal hounds. This is infuriating, Y/N. I have never seen a woman act so stupidly and rashly before”, Dainsleif says roughly, through gritted teeth. His expression is grave and ominous.

“I feel strong desire to take your Vision away and lock you home until you learn to respect my rules.”

“Your ‘rules’?” You raise your eyebrow, looking at Dainsleif no less infuriated and frustrated than he is currently. “You think if you’re older than me, I have to act like your little puppet on strings who does everything that is ordered? Hell no, Dainsleif. We won’t have it this way.”

“FOOL!” He yells, his arm grabbing you tightly and pressing you against a wall. “You could have gotten yourself killed! You could have been hurt! You don’t know the thoughts running through my mind when I imagine you hurt; I want to burn the whole world for you.”

“Let me go, Dain. Please, this is uncalled for, you know that, right?” As you gently ask him Dainsleif slowly, but hesitantly releases your arm and takes a step back, closing his hands behind his back.

“I ask you once again to refrain from getting yourself harmed by the hand of Abyss.”

“Did you just call me a fool? I thought you were better than that.”

“For that ruthless language, I apologise. However I need your obedience when it comes to survival matters.”

Slowly, you walk over to look into Dainsleif’s eyes.

“I understand your tragedy wholeheartedly and I sincerely respect your wish to protect me, but you need to understand that my fighting skills are not low anymore, I can be efficient and agile.”

Dainsleif’s head hangs down, you see that he is contemplating something in the depth of his heart.

“I see”, his hand reaches out to you, even though he is not looking in your direction. Dainself intertwines his fingers with yours and speaks, much quieter and softer words:

“I’m sorry for calling you a fool. That was uncalled for”, his hand gives you a light but worried squeeze. “Just… be careful, Y/N.”

Alhaitham 

“You’re acting like a child. Your opinions are too dreamy, irrational and irrelevant”, Alhaitham speaks briefly as he opens his book and hides his sharp gaze somewhere in the middle of the paragraphs.

Having acknowledged his disregard to you with pain in your heart you throw your arms around and ask him with bright feeling which is contradicting his own manner of speaking.

“Speak about irrelevance! You are the embodiment of irrationality yourself, for guilting me into thinking that you actually care for me.”

Alhaitham stays still for a moment but a tense squeeze he gives the book in his fingers raises even more contradictory emotions between you. 

“I knew you are a difficult person to get intimately acquainted with, but your actions proved that you had at least a bit of attraction towards me. If not, then your choice of words and manner of speaking to personally me was too extreme. If not, and you are dreaded by the mere thought of me being intimately honest with you, spit it out. I don’t want you to play the romance where it no really belongs. I don’t want you to like me out of pity.”

“But I don’t”, Alhaitham finally closes the book and removes from his seat. “Your opinions and decisions make me question whether or not we are compatible enough.”

“That is because you are thinking too rationally.”

“And you are thinking too irrationally.”

“You were the one to touch my hand and hug me in a very personal way. And if I am not mistaken, you are the man who never touches anyone and is dreaded by a mere thought of being pulled out from your serenity.”

Alhaitham then shivers slightly, his body mannerisms betraying distress and frustration that is not by a long shot defined in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry for calling you these words. These are bad words, I should not be disrespecting you so”, he looks away, giving his lip a strong bite whereas finally giving you a relief: “I always thought and I still think that you are a perfect companion for me, but our opinions are very unlike.”

“So you think two people cannot get accustomed to living with each other if they have different choice of words or thinking! Alhaitham, this is laughable.”

“The only laughable thing right now is that I desperately want to hug you”, without further hesitation he pulls you into his arms, an embrace filled with warmth and dedication, while his fingers gently stroke your back. “I apologise, my love.”

Baizhu

“You are being too nosy and impatient, sweetheart. I asked you to not ask me specifics of my contracts and yet here you are - interrogating me like some sort of criminal. I am feeling pressured and most frustrated!” He throws his arms around. “Darling, if you could give me some space, I would finish what I started with no further delay.”

“Am I violating your space by simply caring for your well-being? Baizhu, your contract has gone way too far; your help to people robs you of your own happiness, can you not see it?”

“I will be most contented if you simply leave me to finish my work. I would be happy if you simply encouraged me, but I’d be even more grateful if you stopped asking me so many questions.”

You know perfectly well what it’s like to sacrifice yourself for other people’s sake however you could not any longer bear seeing your love life being disrupted by Baizhu constantly feeling sick and suffering. You want nothing more than him to feel safe, secure and well, but instead this curious pharmacist only risks more and more his life in exchange of knowledge and improvement.

Though, Baizhu did recognise your words as a simple statement of care, he only admitted it in a few days. While you were helping him sort his things out in the pharmacy, Baizhu dropped his formal act and gently touched your hand.

“Darling?”

You stopped sorting at once when you heard what he declared:

“I’m sorry, I was so rude to you speaking about my health.”

You turn to face him and notice the sincerest apology in his snake eyes.

“I just wish you’d understand that my worry for you is not intended to make you uncomfortable or distressed.”

“I do understand it now. I will try my best to not bring you suffering from seeing me suffer. I cannot reject what I had started, but I will seek ways to heal both me and you from this torture.”

The gentle confession ends with Baizhu rubbing his thumb against the top of your hand. 

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day seven.

Dry Humping (1k words)

summary: You simply couldn't wait to be in a private place to show Lando how proud you were of him, so you decide to do it even though you are very aware of the people around you.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, stablished relationship, very heavy makeout, dry humping, public sex-ish. lmk if i should add anything else!

The music that thrummed through the huge speakers was loud, and the people cheering any time a new song came were even louder. The air was so thick with coloured lights and a layer of smoke that you couldn’t quite distinguish your surroundings, and there were drunk people stumbling on their own feet anywhere you looked. Lucky for you, you found yourself in the VIP area with your boyfriend, some other drivers, and a few friends.

You were all out celebrating Lando’s newest win, and you couldn’t be happier for him, so of course you had to go out to commemorate such an achievement.

Everyone was already feeling the alcohol they had been consuming since you got there, including you two, as you found yourselves sitting on one of the bigger couches, passionately making out and him gradually placing you onto his lap. It was heavy, and you didn’t care one bit; it had gotten to the point where everyone around you disappeared, even with the loud reminders of the people that were currently around you.

The VIP area was on a high platform and was secured with side rails to avoid any incident, so whatever you had going on there couldn’t really be seen from the lower ground. That included any cameras and phones that were constantly being pointed in your direction.

All they could really see were your faces basically devouring each other, which wasn’t exactly new to the public. What they couldn’t see, however, were your hips starting to rock against Lando’s and his hands grabbing you with such force only to bring you closer to him.

As expected, you were way too out of it to fully analyse what you were doing, and if you did know and were aware of it, it was clear you didn’t care; you just wanted to show him how proud you were of his fantastic race. You came straight to the club after leaving the track, so you didn’t have any alone time afterwards, and all you got to say was “I’m so proud of you,” muffled by the hundreds of cheers coming from his team and the fans.

But that was long forgotten, and all you could do right now was hold onto his shoulders as you continued humping his hard cock still stuffed inside his pants, your combined saliva falling from your chin and into your chest as the kiss got messier. 

“You did so- so good,” you managed to say between kisses. “I can’t even describe how hot you looked coming out of the car with the number 1 cardboard in front of it.”

“Yeah?” He asked, squeezing your hips as his lips left yours, trapping your lower lip between his teeth until you were too far from his face. 

“Mhm, all I could think about was having that one finger inside me.”

“Shit, baby, you are driving me insane.”

You got closer to his ear, and with a very seductive voice, you whispered. “So you are gonna go even more insane when I tell you I’m not wearing any underwear right now.”

“Fuck.”

He held you even tighter as you started to drag your hips harder, a moan scaping his lips. Your dress was rolled up, and it was now covering only your thighs, but it was pretty obvious what you two were doing to anyone at surface level.

With your pussy being completely uncovered, the feeling of the hard fabric of his jeans was heaven to you, and the thought of all your juices going straight to his jeans, pretty much the only layer between you, made you eager to come.

One of his hands came under your dress and sneaked between your folds; he just wanted to feel you, and God, he almost let it all out when he realised how wet you were.

“So wet for me, baby.” He whimpered, leaving your core and placing his hand back on your side.

You were both feeling so desperate that he also started thrusting up into you, making the sensation for you not only better but easier. A thin layer of sweat was forming on your bodies, only adding to the hot atmosphere the club naturally had.

Luckily, your moans were being muffled by the loud music and the people around you, so no one could even hear you no matter how loud you were being, and right now, it was a little embarrassing how loud you were being.

Your legs were already getting tired, but you were so close that you knew you only had to chase your orgasm for a little longer. His hands that were previously on your hips were now everywhere, feeling every inch of any uncovered skin he could find as he moved along with you.

“Mhm, Lan.” You moaned, moving a little faster than before, making him squirm under you.

“Yeah? You gonna cum in my pants in front of all our friends?” He whispered. All you could do was nod in response, and you could feel his smirk on your neck. "I wanna rearrange your guts and turn you into a mess, baby. I’m making you all mine as soon as we are back at the hotel." 

“Ah,” another loud moan left your lips.

"You want that, don't you?" 

“Please, let’s get out of here.”

As soon as he heard you say that, his hands fell back on your hips to make you drag them even faster, harder, as his own picked up his desperate pace. He could feel your body starting to give out; that could only mean you were about to snap.

With a few more thrusts, he felt your orgasm hitting you, making you drop your head on his shoulder as he chased his own release, which came a few seconds later.

“Shit,” he whimpered as his cum stained his clothes, the warm and thick fluid coating both of you.

You pressed your foreheads together as you tried to catch your breath, a laugh escaping both of you as you came down from your high. 

“We can never come back here,” Lando whispered as he kissed you again. Not as desperate, but just as hungry for more. 

“Are you done-?” You heard Oscar yell above the noise as he came close to you, making both of you look at him in pure embarrassment as Lando pushed you off his lap, revealing his cum-stained jeans. “Oh my God, you are done... Okay, we are getting out of here.”

↺ back to navigation — Kinktober masterlist

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭.

— pairing; malleus draconia x reader

— summary; set in the future, where there's a threat to you and your unborn child

— notes; i was inspired to write this after watching a scene on youtube where we meet maleanor for the first time. please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It starts off as an ordinary day.

❋ You typically spend your mornings in the palace gardens, enjoying the breeze on your skin and the smell of fresh flowers. Now that you’re heavily pregnant with the future heir of Briar Valley, you’re constantly monitored by the Royal Guards, ensuring your safety in the absence of their Lord.

❋ But on this particular day, something goes wrong.

❋ The threat to your safety is swift and sudden, leaving you scrambling to protect your unborn child. Your protectors are caught off guard, leaving you vulnerable and unprotected for just a few terrifying moments.

❋ When word of the attack reaches Malleus, his blood runs cold. Then, it boils. His composure cracks, betraying the true depths of his emotions: a controlled, silent rage that emanates a chilling aura throughout the castle hall. His magic crackles in the air, the darkness swirling like a tempest around him. Everyone, guards and servants alike, can feel the suffocating weight of his fury.

❋ The guards — some of Briar Valley’s finest — stand frozen before Malleus, unable to meet his gaze with their heads bowed low. But he doesn't lash out immediately. Instead, he surveys them with a thoughtful, calculating look, purposely prolonging the tension in the otherwise silent room as they await his judgement.

❋ In his mind, he’s analysing every single one of their failings, dissecting the chain of events that allowed you and his unborn child to be placed in jeopardy. It’s a battle to restrain himself; the true depths of his emotions would surely set Briar Valley ablaze. As it is, the sky outside is already grey and overcast, reflecting the blackness of his mood.

❋ Finally, Malleus confronts the guards with a chilling calmness, his voice like the crackling embers of a storm. “Your folly,” he hisses, his words cold and precise, “could have cost Briar Valley its future.”

❋ Lilia watches from the shadows, a fond smile playing across his lips. Secretly, he’s taken aback by how much Malleus resembles his mother in this very moment. Maleanor had once looked at him the same way, with blazing eyes and a terrifying show of lightning magic, when he had arrived moments too late to protect her and her egg, a young Malleus still forming inside.  

❋ Maleanor’s fierce love had been passed down to Malleus, and he would protect you and his child just as she had protected him.

[endereies]

FEEL BETTER YET? - MS

No Nut November - Day 7

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ When you are on your period, Matt is always there to look after you

Every month you endured pain like no other, your abdomen puncturing you from the inside out. It was only 3am but it felt like you had been up for hours, tossing and turning to find any relief. Painkillers failed to aid you and if you moved too much, spurts of nausea floated around your body.

The one thing you were concerned about was not staining your boyfriend’s sheets underneath you. You had already changed a few times in the night, at that point it was better to stay there. The entirety of your body was pushed against the radiator, locating any lingering warmth you could without having to manually do it yourself.

It was agonising, the fact this had to happen at all to you made emotions sky rocket. The trembles of your body matched the way your breathing shuddered when your stomach clenched.

Just as another tear fell, the light above you flickered on.

“Baby? Fuck…are you okay?” Matt was by your side in an instant, his touch giving you the warm you desperately were trying to clutch onto. He was quietly analysing you and the scene in front of him as his concern increased. Each time you wanted to speak smoothly, the sharp pains constructed you. It just made you whimper in pain and it broke Matt’s heart.

He was used to you having rough periods, but this was on another level. You couldn't breathe. You couldn’t think clearly, your mind fogged with the sheer agony within.

“Why aren’t you in bed baby, you could’ve woken me…you know that…” His tone was gentle and made you sob a few more tears before any words left.

“I- I didn’t want to bloody your sheets..or uh bother you…” You looked away once you saw his face twist into one almost filled with guilt. Independency was idolised by you, he saw it in everything you did. But he wanted to take care of you, this was the small sliver he had and he was going to use that.

“I’ll be back, okay? Just two seconds my love.” Just as quickly as he spoke, he left. The light above remained on, a signal he was still there. Rustling was heard in the distance but once the pain surged it was hard to focus on. Everything was too much. Towels bunched up around you, trying to protect you from the pain, no matter how much it didn’t work.

The sharp pains in your stomach had only gotten worse, even after medication. Every time that Matt crossed your mind it only made you feel so needy, clingy. Like a burden.

Matt returned quickly with his hands full on certain products you couldn’t quite make out. “So first off, I got the chocolates from the fridge I saved for you, and some of those sweets you like to chew…” The packets were held up as he showed them off to you. “I got some of the stronger medications for if you needed to top off with them, uh, I grabbed your socks too and just made a hot water bottle for you. I know last time was a little too hot, so I put some cold water into it as well. “

His gaze finally met your eyes, staring at the pile with tears forming. It was obvious you weren't blinking so that you didn't cry. You knew if you had tried to speak, your emotions would quickly be revealed, if they weren't already by your expression. Your lips switched into a small smile, full of gratitude towards him.

“I- Thank you…really”

“Anytime, I mean that. I just want to be here for you, no matter what.” You let out a small chuckle, allowing yourself to finally give into his efforts to take care of you, you needed it in the moment. Not that you’d admit that to him. He quickly placed the items on your his bed before returning to your side.

One arm reached under your knees while the other supported your back as he pulled you to his chest. It was warm and it was safe. You almost forgot about the pain. Almost.

He lowered you onto the mattress on your side of the bed before handing you the hot water bottle, along side your medication and a drink. He wanted to look after you, not overwhelm you. Matt pulled back from you, climbing under the duvet alongside you.

“I don’t want you to worry about the sheets or bothering me, just worry about yourself. You’re my priority and I never wanting you to think that ill ignore your pain. Never ever will I do that to you sweetheart.” His voice was barely heard over my breathing and a part of you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t.

Subconsciously your body drew close towards him, the heat of the bottle inching closer to his skin until your head lay on his shoulder. “Feel better yet?” You nodded slightly. The pain had subsided, the bottle and his words warming the aches away.

“I love you, you know that right?” A soft smile covered his lips, placing a light kiss on your head.

“I love you too..”

This was what you needed.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[sayuri-of-the-valley]

On how Crowley and Aziraphale felt during the kiss (but mainly Crowley here):

Ok so first, the main idea for this huge meta is that a LOT of us noticed how the music from the kiss scene is similar to the nebula one, right?

Second, a lot of us also correctly noticed the parallels between the kiss and how it was to taste food for the first time for Aziraphale: bc of his reactions, the hand on lips, the similar way MS acted both scenes, the little inhale etc. So how was it for Crowley?

Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss is practically a puzzle to solve on its own, so it's fun to analyse it, but basically, in a few words, Aziraphale kissed Crowley and he discovered he was physically starving for him, longing for him, yearning for him, for his kiss, and he had no idea. Just like with the ox. And now he needs to gorge himself in him but he can't. Great amazing heartbreaking chef's kiss someone give MS an Emmy.

But there's already so much amazing meta out there about Aziraphale x Ox ribs x The Kiss that I want to focus on Crowley here, and on the music.

So back to the music. The song in "Before the Beginning" and the song that plays during The Kiss (I Forgive You + Don't Bother) are so similar. They're not *exactly* the same, but they're totally reminiscent of each other. The viewer is immediately reminded of those chords that played in the opening scene. It's no coincidence that the fandom was talking about this fact only minutes after first watching those final fifteen minutes. This is an obvious intentional choice for storytelling reasons (David Arnold is a genius).

I have no expertise whatsoever when it comes to music, so I asked our friend @otsanda to see if that made sense and not only it does and she explained it, but she also uncovered so much more hidden meaning in all of it (musicians are amazing), so check out her meta about the music that not only serves as evidence to what I'm proposing here but it also has so much more juicy information in it 💖.

Back to the point: WHY thought? Why choose a similar song? Why intentionally COMPOSE a similar song for that moment?

Hear me out. WHAT IF, by reminding the audience of the creation of the nebula, they meant to convey to us that, for Crowley, kissing Aziraphale gave him the same feeling that creating his stars did?

THAT'S what the music is telling us. THAT'S why it makes us remember "Before the Beginning". It may sound cheesy, but Crowley may have literally seen stars when he kissed Aziraphale. He couldn't react accordingly (just like Aziraphale couldn't), bc it was an overwhelming and extremely sad moment (the music is also telling us that) for both of them. They knew it was ending . They were both having a moment of huge revelation that was fated to not come to completion. Crowley was right, it was too late.

It makes sense to show Crowley's feelings through the music, bc he was the one who started the kiss, and also he was wearing sunglasses in that scene, it's different from a character like Aziraphale that has all his million expressions for everyone to see at all times. And they've been doing this ever since s1 with the Queen songs that play in his car or in the background.

So my point is: the same song being used there makes me wonder if kissing Aziraphale finally gave him what he lost. His purpose. What Aziraphale was trying to give back to him by taking him back to heaven. There's no need for Heaven. Just kiss him, Aziraphale, and there he'll find the stars you want to give back to him. There you will one day see that smile on his face you saw Before The Beginning. Neil Gaiman and David Arnold I am in your walls 😭

This is what may lead us to see this happiness in Crowley again (not the action of kissing itself, of course, but what it represents to their relationship, them being together, them being an Us).

As @otsanda said: from the music we can interpret that that moment was a Revelation for them. Almost a religious experience. Crowley found his purpose again. What he'd been missing the whole season (or even his whole life since the Fall, but we've seen him especially depressed this season).

I'm not even getting into the poetry of how one can interpret the parallel to the angel's reaction to the kiss as carnal, and the demon's as religious; that would be another whole essay but let's just agree that it's incredibly beautiful. (Let me be clear that I mean here Aziraphale's reaction is carnal specifically for Crowley, and Crowley's is religious specifically for Aziraphale, not religious as in "worshipping god")

"Do you ever wonder what's the point?" Crowley asked in s2e1. The point, for him, is Aziraphale (if you've seen The Good Place you know what I mean). I hope he figured this out with that kiss, even as heartbreaking as it was. Even if it was a (temporary) separation kiss. (I hope Aziraphale figures this out with time too, that he's more than enough to make Crowley happy, that Crowley doesn't need Heaven, or stars, that Crowley needs him.)

Maybe that's why Crowley didn't leave and kept waiting outside until the very last moment.

Aziraphale and Crowley both bit the apple at the end of s2. There's no turning back from that Knowledge now.

Edit: I just have to add here this brilliant colour analysis of the nebula scene by @halemerry. And it's pointed out that during the nebula formation there's a moment when it looks like two people embracing. And the fact that a similar song is used in the actual Kiss scene I just... I have no words

[bountycancelled]

(un)secret admirer

luke castellan x child of aphrodite!reader

tip me on kofi, if you feel so inclined

requested: nope, I'm just currently obsessing over pjo (aren't we all?) and Charlie bushnell is my pookie so luke is also my pookie (what about all the people he murdered– what murdaaaa?!)

warnings: none I believe!

content: probably ooc luke becusse I haven't read the books, I don't know if demigods even nap, I don't remember the movies and he's barely in the show lol, some cuddling, lowercase intended because fuck grammar, also I know demi gods are dyslexic i just dont gaf because i thought this concept was cute, that's all!

a/n: SEND ME PJO REQS! please. also this is short and I'm sorry, I've been having horrid writers block.

"I don't get what the big deal is." Lukes voice could be heard from where he sat on your bed, as you gazed at the piece of paper in your hand, pacing back and forth in your room as you analysed its every minute detail to the best of your abilities. "you get letters from the other campers all the time."

"I already told you Luke. this handwriting isn't the same as any other letter I've gotten, so that means it's from someone who's never sent me a note before, and I need to know who it is."

you had recieved a myriad of letters ranging from 'I think you're pretty' to 'I would sacrifice my right arm just to get a hug from you' during your time here at camp. beyond being drop dead gorgeous, you were kind, always wearing a charming smile on your face, and having the ability to comfort people with your presence alone.

that (coupled with the facts that most kids here had some kind of parental baggage and your kindness definitely filled some kind of void) meant that you recieved many a words from not so secret admirers. you were sure that you knew the identities of the people who had given you sealed envelopes and tightly folded papers, but you were currently stumped.

you were startled out of your staring contest with the scribbled ink by the feeling of Lukes arms around your shoulders as he spoke. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually, now can you please come back to bed? you know that I can't nap if you're not with me."

you sighed, letting him lead you back to your bed so that he could rest before you two inevitable of the two of you needing to help around the camp occured. you stared up at the ceiling as he slowly started to dose off beside you, before you gasped and shot up, effectively spooking him out of a peaceful moment.

"it's Percy!" you shushed Luke before he had the chance to complain about your sudden exclamation or the fact that you weren't letting him get a wink of midday sleep. "I mean, he's just met me, and one of my friends probably told him some stuff about me–"

"it's not Percy." Luke deadpanned, pushing you down by the shoulder from the upright postpone you were sat in to make you lay back down, and wrapping his arm around your waist. you were shocked into silence, because although Luke was an affectionate friend, he had never cuddled you while he was still awake. he would always wake up and discovering that he had wrapped around you in his sleeping state, apologising sheepishly while retracting his limbs.

after a few moments of stunned silence, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his statement. "and how do you know it's not him, huh?" he simply blew air from his nose, tightening his grip around your waist.

"because it was me, sweetheart."

now that shut you up fairly quickly, as you bit your lip to try to hinder the giddy smile that wanted to form on your features. you opened your mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by Luke placing a small kiss on the back of your neck.

"we'll talk when we wake up, alright?" but you weren't having any of that. "okay... but, before you go to bed. how long have you liked me? is this actually the first letter you've sent? why wouldn't you just tell me, you idiot. obviously I like you too. I know you said some stuff that you like about me in the letter, but I want you to tell me about everything you like about me, like every feature, every trait-"

Luke chuckled, sporting a big grin as you spoke. he would tell you all of that and more, he would do anything you asked of him, just as long as he got to hold you in his arms just like this.

[lqfiles]

PAY THE PRICE — 29. a moment of vulnerability

(wc: 2.281)

much to your surprise, haechan’s door was already left unlocked by the time you reached it. your hand halted at the immediate unlock of it, and you hesitantly moved it open afterwards, your confusion growing more prominent with each step inside. it wasn’t typical for haechan to leave his door unlocked, especially at night from the experiences you’ve had with him.

as you entered further into the apartment, an unusual sense of eerie and a strange stillness hit you. a muddle expression formed on your face, and you looked around the dark living room, a feeling of familiarity following as you did so. your first thought was to look at the spot you remembered haechan to be seated at last time you had visited him during the night hours.

“haechan?” you didn’t expect the tone of your voice to be so soft as you called out his name. haechan, who was sat on the couch instead of the floor, didn’t acknowledge your words, letting them echo into the void. “i know you have my stuff, asshole.” you lightly complained, attempting to stir a reaction out of him who had yet to look up.

he remained strangely silent, barely moving. you took more careful steps into the place, slowly making your way towards the middle of the room where he was. standing next to the couch, you contemplated on what exactly to do. “are you asleep?” you whispered carefully, somewhat worried that you’d wake him up. you’ve never seen haechan this silent, let alone this motionless.

haechan shook his head, breaking the motionless trance he was in. his hands were still crossed over one another and his head was still looking down at his lap. “are you.. you okay?” the question felt foreign as it left the tip of your tongue. it remained in the air and was left unanswered for approximately 10 seconds. you didn’t expect haechan to talk, but he did. “i don’t know.. maybe.” his voice croaked. you don’t think you’ve ever heard such a sound come from haechan.

you expected him to dismiss it, and now you were put in an awkward position. were you the right person to ask him to elaborate? you’re relationship with him wasn’t that strong, let alone anything friendly in your eyes. still, you had already intruded his place without his consent, maybe the least you owed him was an ear to listen. “wanna talk about it?” you sighed out with reluctance.

haechan’s sigh followed soon after as he finally looked up, making eye content with you. the first thing you took notice of was the tired look in his eyes, almost as if he hadn’t been sleeping for the past few days. before you could analyse his face any further, he spoke. “i just got a lot on my mind.” he started, fiddling with his fingers.

“about what?” you reluctantly asked again. realistically, you’re not sure if you cared or wanted to know the answer. but based of his body language alone, you could tell something was bothering him, and call yourself foolish, but if there was anything bigger than your foolishness, it was your sense of empathy.

“life? i’ve just been very.. what’s the right word.. lost?” haechan continued. you eyed the empty spot next to him, contemplating the decision on whether or not to take the seat. you obliged, if you were to stick around for a story time, you at least deserve to actually sit through it. you sat down and nodded for haechan to continue. “what about life?”

“i’m just.. I don’t know, i’ve just been wondering where i’m heading to with life.” he confessed, and the answer took you by surprise. “why’s that?” you questioned, growing intrigued. haechan pondered for a moment, his hands now limp on his lap. “it’s stupid.. i think seeing jaehyun do well in life just has me questioning my own course in life, i guess i feel somewhat discouraged?” haechan admitted and the mention of jaehyun piqued your interest, though you tried to not show it.

“i don’t get it, do you want to be like jaehyun?” you asked in confusion. your conclusion behind haechan’s sullen mood seemed to bother him. he shook his head with a soft groan. “no, i don’t want to be like him, but i also do. its not that i want to have the fame jaehyun has or be known as an outstanding singer.. it’s more like.. i want to stand out too.” haechan explained, gnawing his lips.

“why do you think you don’t stand out?” you inquired with your head tilted in confusion. haechan glanced your way before shutting his eyes softly, re-opening them shortly after. “well, now i stand out yeah, but i don’t like the way i stand out, it’s not me.” haechan groaned in exasperation, yet you remained confused.

“i don’t get it, what’s the issue?” you questioned once more, growing more intrigued by his complaints.

“of course you don’t get it, because you don’t know me (—). you probably think you do, but you don’t.” haechan deeply sighed, it seemed like he was really tired, whether it be in general or because of your continuing questions. you remained silent, not sure how to respond back to his words. haechan took the silence as an opportunity to continue.

“i’ll let you know a bit about me then. did you know that the only reason why i’m even attached to my guitar is because i believe it’s the only reason people show interest in me?” haechan stared ahead of him, arms loosely crossed. “i do know what it’s like to not stand out because i had always remained as the one everyone would choose second because i had nothing to offer. does that make sense to you?” with a slight twist, haechan shot you a quick glance before turning his gaze back to it previous focus.

“its funny because i thought, maybe, if i pick up on a trait such as learning the guitar, people would take more interest in me and i’d get their validation. which worked in my benefit, surprisingly. who knew everyone could be so into the rockstar boyfriend fantasy?” he chuckled almost bitterly. you slightly gaped at the confession, too stunned to form a proper reaction.

“its why i liked to be called haechan, and why no one aside from yangyang jaehyun and renjun get to call me by my real name, because they don’t actually care about the real me. they like haechan.” haechan’s arms unwrapped from each other, gesturing up and down the length of his body to emphasise his point. “they like haechan, the guy who plays the guitar and is nonchalant, not donghyuck, the guy behind him who always comes second.”

haechan’s tone was undoubtedly bitter, and he paused for a moment. “so, do you get it?”

“..i’m sorry to hear that.” was all you could come up with in the moment, your expression doing enough to showcase your honesty. haechan didn’t response, instead he brushed his fingers through his hair with a lack of energy. “but what about karina? she calls you donghyuck?” you wondered. haechan let the question hang in the air for a bit before he answered.

“because i never told karina any of my issues, why would i? she was a short talking stage, i was still figuring myself out as donghyuck and cut her off once i wanted to start fresh. i didn’t want a memory of the old me to be left behind, except for those i actually care about. i don’t care about karina.” haechan answered truthfully with no hesitation.

once again, you weren’t sure how to carry on from that. what was an appropriate question to ask in such an instance? there was an underlying hostility in his words, yet you could also sense the rawness and misery in them. your empathy truly got the best of you, and you prepared yourself for the speech you were about to give.

“this is probably going to sound weird coming from me.. but i’m sure there are many people who admire you.” you started. “i won’t lie, i hate your guitar, a lot, but you’re not bad at it, i guess.. you could say i admire that, or something.” you averted your gaze, staring ahead just like he did.

“i dont know, it seems to me like you’re scared of people liking you for who you really are which is why you’re putting up this front.” haechan’s face contorted into a frown. “now you’re just twisting my words.” he laughed, and you softly chuckled too. “what i’m trying to say is that i doubt people wouldn’t put you first if you remained true to yourself, for all you know, someone could’ve been madly in love with you for being donghyuck. why change yourself for others if it doesn’t make you happy?”

silence overlook again and you believed that you had hit a sensitive topic. “but it does make me happy.” haechan admitted after a minute, his voice merely a whisper. “so you’re happy being someone you’re not?” you repeated bewildered and haechan shrugged. “maybe.” he answered honestly.

“and you’re happy talking to girls as someone you’re not?” you continued.

“i like the feeling of being wanted.” haechan responded.

“okay, but playing with people’s hearts is not nice.” you argued back. haechan shrugged again. “i never said i’m trying to be nice, life hasn’t been that kind to me either.” he stated simply, crossing his arms over each other again. his persistent mindset shocked you, and you swiftly turned your body to face his.

“listen, i know we’re not that close for me to tell you what to do, but, stop doubting yourself, it’s weird.” you sighed in annoyance. “you’re interesting as you are and i don’t think a guitar would change that much. you’re scared that people will put you second, but you’re not even giving people the chance to put you first by being yourself. wouldn’t it be worse if people found out you’ve been putting up a persona this whole time? that you’re name isn’t even haechan?”

“what are you trying to say (—)” haechan had turned his head to look at you “you’re too harsh on yourself. whether you’re haechan or donghyuck, it shouldn’t matter. if people don’t like you for who you really are, then they’re not worth your time. also, you’re leading girls on by seeking their attention, it’s not nice.” you stated with determination, and haechan couldn’t hold back the smile that was forming on his face.

“why are you getting all serious about that.” he scoffed out a laugh, and the room started to feel more lively. his face seemed to have softened, and you internally let out a sigh of relief, for some reason. “i think everyone has their destined person that’s perfect for them, it’s kinda sad that you’re leading these girls on and making them think you’re their perfect match when you’re not even serious.”

haechan let out another soft laugh, and this time, he sat himself up more proper before turning to face you again. “okay, do you think you’ve met your perfect match?” his stare felt strong as they locked with your eyes and for a moment you remained speechless, lost in the intensity of them. “i don’t know.” you answer back truthfully. haechan nodded his eyes, keeping his eyes locked with yours. “and do you think we could be a perfect match?” and the question took you by surprise, your mouth ajar as you tried to come up with an answer.

“god forbid.” haechan chuckled at your response, and the rapid beating of your heart slowed. “i’m surprised you told me all this, you know. i thought you didn’t like me.” you admitted. haechan’s eyebrows raised at the assumption and he swallowed.

“i just wanted to be vulnerable for the night, knowing i wouldn’t confess to this stuff any other day. its nice to get stuff off your mind from time to time.” it hit you then why everything felt so weird this particular night. because haechan, the guy who barely crossed the friend status, was being vulnerable, with you of all people.

“we aren’t exactly friends.. but you can get stuff off your chest with me if you need to.” you offered haechan, and genuine surprise overtook his features. “why would you do that?” you shrugged, looking down at your own intertwined hands. “isn’t it better to tell someone who couldn’t care less about you than someone who does?”

“i didn’t know you could be nice like this.” haechan chuckled after some time. you scoffed in offence, looking back up at him. “I don’t know what image of me you have in your head, but i’d never make fun of someone’s vulnerability.” you defended yourself. haechan shook his head. “that’s not what i meant.” he corrected.

“i know, but being nice doesn’t have to be limited to friends. its nice to be nice… even towards insufferable people like you.” you continued to defend yourself and haechan’s perked up at your words. “are you saying we can’t be friends?” he wondered, his surprise masked by the tired look that had returned.

you attempted to remain unbothered by his inquiry, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders. “do you want to be friends?” you proposed with hidden curiosity. haechan stuck his hand out towards you, silently waiting. you hesitated before essentially gripping onto it, his own hand shaking your clasped hands.

“i‘ll give you your utensils when i wake up, i’m tired.” haechan yawned before getting up from his couch and walking towards his room. you got up yourself, making your way towards the door with your mind in a haze. your hand was on the handle of his front door, and before you could open it, haechan’s voice called for you.

“just.. you can call me donghyuck too, if you want, since you know it already.”

previous — master list — next

notes ; angsty… anyways sozz i was kinda living life and had no motivation but i’ll try~ proofread this once so sozz for any grammar mistakes

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[lime-bloods]

I honestly didn't ever expect that I'd be in the position where I'd be using this blog not just to analyse what has come before in Homestuck, but to look toward the comic's future and do some real old-fashioned theorycrafting. but the time has come. so here goes; lime-bloods' Beyond Canon theories as of the July 6th 2024 update:

Vriska's Going to Hell

were all gonna help you! / whether you like it or not

a select few eagle-eyed readers already noticed that the sound used in last month's (Vriska: Figure shit out yourself.) is called "hell_tierwav". while it was easy to dismiss this as irrelevant composer shenanigans at the time, it's now become clear exactly what this was foreshadowing. whether it would be more apt to call this "Hell" or "Purrgatory" is probably up for debate - but whatever you call it, Vriska's been placed in a dimension seemingly tailored specifically for her personal torment.

while Vriska characteristically interprets the recreation of her childhood home as a symbol of how badass she was, the ghosts of her past - both literal, as the shades of the trolls she killed as Mindfang, and figurative, in the form of sprites wearing the faces of her dead friends - show us in no uncertain terms that Vriska's childhood home is the stage where traumas play out.

Erisolsprite puts it succinctly with his welcome to hell, but pay close attention to what exactly we're being welcomed to: this update ends on page 665. so as of this next update, we'll be starting on page 666.

Does Homestuck Have Hell?

the exact bubble of reality Vriska's currently found herself in seems to be an entirely new construction of the likes we've not yet seen in Homestuck - but that doesn't mean this kind of cosmic torment is without precedent. because while 666 is a number with Satanic connotations in the broader cultural context, it also has a very particular meaning of its own within the world of Homestuck. indeed, the latter half of the comic almost revolves around it, culminating in a climax in Act 6 Act 6 Act 6.

specifically, this repetition of a single digit is emblematic of recursive storytelling. to summarise what you can already read about in detail in my essay The World / The Wheel: when Caliborn is 'gifted' the Act 6 Act 6 supercartridge, which he is told is an "expansion" of Homestuck, it's a trick. there is no "expansion"; he's going to be trapped in a story that never ends because it keeps dividing into smaller and smaller versions of itself forever. the only way to truly beat the devil who trapped the heroes within a story is to trap him in his own story.

that's what Caliborn's "Hell" is, and that's also exactly what the Alternate Calliope achieved in Act 7 by creating the black hole which Vriska knocked Lord English into, ending Homestuck's story - something that Calliope even hints at in this very update, when she refers to the black hole as "containment"; not an accident, but a deliberately crafted prison. black holes are a symbol of recursion and regression; being sucked into one means being forced to live out your whole life over and over again, forever. so really, this is all we ever could have expected to happen when Vriska stepped into a black hole within a black hole! the presentation of the narrative even subtly hints at this; events in Beyond Canon that take place in the black hole are enclosed (in brackets), and now events that take place in a black hole-within-a-black-hole are contained within {curly brackets}, because you should always use a different kind of brackets to differentiate nested parenthesis from each other!

it is absolutely no coincidence that when Caliborn closes the curtains on his appearances in Homestuck, thinking he's won when really he's been condemned to a hell of his own making forever more, it's with a tribute to this exact same Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff strip.

IF YOU REMEMBER JUST ONE THING I SAY, OF SO MANY GREAT THINGS SAID BY ME, THEN PLEASE REMEMBER THIS. I WANTED TO PLAY A GAME.

So What Does That Mean?

one of Beyond Canon's central missions is expanding upon Homestuck's exploration of the relationships between author, text, and audience. as discussed above, a large part of Homestuck's thesis is the evil of forcing characters to live the same lives and the same stories over and over without the chance to grow or move on, and Beyond Canon picks up on this by placing Dirk in the position of trying to keep Homestuck going forever purely to appease its fans, while the Alternate Calliope continues to oppose this ideology. and while the alpha Calliope outwardly seems not to have taken a hard position on where she stands in this cosmic battle, the question posed by her device seems to be an entirely new one: can it actually be a good thing to regress, to return to ground that the story has already covered? can this path lead to something new, rather than merely stagnation?

it's so relevant that Vriska is being confronted with the crimes of her past, not only in the form of all the trolls she was personally responsible for killing but also in the form of the exact same punishment she condemned Lord English to with her heroism - complete with the herd of horses that are always present at Caliborn's demise! but where being condemned to an eternal cycle was fitting punishment for Caliborn, someone who refuses to break free of cycles of abuse and instead chooses to enact that same abuse on the world around him... if Vriska is someone who can break free of these cycles, who can change and become a better person despite what happened to her, will this punishment have the same effect? or, as Davepeta seems to believe, is forcing Vriska to reckon with her own past and traumas exactly what will allow her to break free of that cycle?

DAVE: [...] ill just be over here in the hyper gravity chamber training to beat lord english KARKAT: WE HAVE A HYPER GRAVITY CHAMBER???

it's hard not to be struck by the parallels in design and purpose between the Plot Point and Dragon Ball's Hyperbolic Time Chamber, and not just because of the Dragon Ball enthusiasts present on Beyond Canon's writing and art teams: albeit in typically Strider-bastardised form, the Time Chamber got a shoutout in Andrew Hussie's own Homestuck (see quote above), in a reference that was even picked up on by prolific theorist bladekindeyewear at the time. for the uninitiated: the Hyperbolic Time Chamber allowed its users to train for extended stretches of time, sometimes even spanning years, while a significantly smaller time period passed in the world outside - something that is actually true of real-life black holes! and with the Plot Point's own emphasis on time, represented by the hourglass included among its mechanisms, it seems to me that an essential part of making the 16-year-old Vriska ready for the trials ahead will be giving her the time to undergo the same growth her adult friends have experienced.

considering that Beyond Canon is already playing in the Ultimate Self space, where there are levels of power beyond merely the "god tiers", it also doesn't seem too farfetched to speculate that Vriska, forced to reckon with the fact that becoming a powerful Thief of Light isn't the be-all and end-all of personal growth, will take another leaf out of Dragon Ball's book here and ascend "beyond Super Saiyan". perhaps this is even the "hell tier" so cheekily alluded to in the Plot Point flash? certainly this kind of evolution would be the perfect way to challenge Dirk's belief that the Ultimate Self is the only logical final step for a character's development.

whatever the case, I believe we can take Davepeta at their word here. I don't think it's just a joke that by the end of this ordeal Vriska Serket is going to be fucking RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPED!

[cheapshrimpysheep]

You Will Stop the Wedding! - Jamil Viper

SUMMARY: YOU were the one being kidnapped by Princess Eliza to marry her. How would he react and how would he save you? With the aggravation of he already having a crush on you.

CHARACTERS: Jamil Viper x Reader

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration

WORD COUNT: 1.260 words

Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia

Rescuing You - Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Floyd Leech; Kalim Al-Asim

COMMENTS: What have I done? Why did I commit to writing this? And why did I write so much? Why was I so inspired? There were seven of them! Why do I do this to myself? So yeah, this took me a long time. But I hope it was worth it, for me and for you.

CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And they just found out that someone was you.

Jamil was not present at the Housewarden's meeting, since he isn't one. But it didn't take long for Kalim to tell him, especially because he was panicking. He starts saying loose sentences about ghosts, kidnapping, marriage and especially your name. Jamil gets very serious and asks Kalim to stop for a few seconds, calm down a little and explain things clearly. And if that doesn't work, he has a plan B: ask one of the other Housewardens. Riddle would be an excellent choice.

After fully understanding what is happening, he himself panics for a moment. But then he clears his throat and calms himself down. He asks, no, he orders Kalim to stay safe in Scarabia while he joins the others in the rescue groups. When Kalim tries to convince Jamil to let him help them, Jamil gets straight to the point and says it's dangerous, both for him and for you. Does he really want to risk ruining everything? It's your life that's at stake here! Jamil was being harsher than usual, but Kalim knew why, and promised that he would stay in Scarabia hoping that everything would go well. He would behave well for Jamil and for you.

However Jamil is too cautious to simply believe him. So most likely, without Kalim noticing, Jamil will put him to sleep or something with some spell or with his Snake Wisper. You know, just in case.

Jamil asked to be in the last group. A little like Azul, he is the type to first analyse all angles of the situation before forming a more appropriate plan.

When it's the last group's turn, whenever someone needs to stay behind to tie up the ghosts, Jamil tells one of the others to do it. He always managed to show himself as a good strategist and someone who conveys the confidence of a leader, so the others just followed this order without questioning much. His behavior showed that he seemed to have a plan in place. He ends up being the only one to arrive at the ceremony hall.

He could follow the plan, but he knew himself well in this regard. He is good at hiding his true feelings, but he is not good at showing feelings that are antagonistic to his true ones. The princess would definitely notice this as she noticed some of the others' strategies. For these reasons he had a plan B, but still wanted to try the original plan.

“Your majesty, you must stop this wedding. You are taking with you someone who doesn't want to be with you. If you don't marry someone who loves you back, both of your lives... afterlives? will be miserable. And that's why I'm here. Please accept me as your husband and I promise to do everything in my power to make your afterlife wonderful.” Everything was going well, until he proposed to be her husband.

The princess said out loud the same thing that you also noticed. In these sentences his emotion almost disappeared, showing that he was lying. And she accused him of trying to deceive her.

Jamil sighed. He was now forced to follow plan B, which he never really likes to follow: Be honest. “You are correct, your majesty. I was lying. But-” Before he could continue speaking the princess ordered the guards to catch him. And he had a plan for that too.

He managed to dodge all the ghost guards and was heading towards the altar where you and the princess were. But one thing wasn't part of his plan: One of the guards turning into a giant ghost. Obviously he still tried to fight and did his best, but he still lost against the guard. As soon as the guard caught him, the princess wasted no time in slapping him, she didn't want to hear his excuses.

However, Jamil remained able to move. Everyone gasps, including the princess. When the guards ask what's going on, the princess says it can only mean one thing. The thing is that her slap is capable of petrifying anyone, except those who have already found their true love. The reaction from all NRC students is like "What the F-?!" And Jamil’s reaction was to lower his head to try to make his hair hide his face.

Then he lifted it again, with an upset and slightly obscured expression on his face. He really hated exposing himself like that, but at that moment, it was his last shot to save you. “Do you want the truth? I'm here for someone, yes, but not for you. I'm here for the person you kidnapped to force to be your partner.” She starts to say that she didn't kidnap or force anyone. “Your delusion disgusts me.” The guard shakes him, threatening him not to insult the princess.

But now the princess is interested. He was there for you? So why did he ask to marry her? “Because we had a plan.” Jamil admits, as if he's had enough and just wants to resolve everything once and for all. “Making you accept one of us as a husband to put a ring on your finger that would send you to the afterlife.” The princess is offended and feels attacked by that. And while she and the guard start to say how outrageous that is, Jamil looks at the princess again, but this time with a condescending look.

“If you're going to take someone with you, take me then. Let (Y/N) go. Let me go in their place. From a young age I learned that part of my job would be to be willing to give my life for someone. Let me give my life for someone I lo... care about, then.” He couldn't fake something like this that well.

And, out of nowhere, the princess started to feel sorry for herself and jealous of you. Having someone willing to give their life for you like that. This was the greatest proof of love anyone could give. How she wished she had someone like that for herself too. And this was the opportunity that the guard who was in love with her found to declare himself and say that he would give his life for her, after all, technically, he had already done so. And that whole ending of the princess realizing that she loved him too happens, they get married and happily ever after.

As soon as the guard releases Jamil, he runs to you. “Are you well? Are you hurt?” You were petrified, but shortly afterwards you could move again. Jamil never left your side until the ghosts left.

After everything and while the first-years were getting ready to tidy up and clean the cafeteria, you asked Jamil to wait a bit. You leave the room so you can talk alone. He couldn't look at you, and he was trying to hide his face with his hands or his hair. He had practically already declared himself to you during all that madness. So you decide it's your turn to tell him that you feel the same way about him. He looks at you in surprise and you can see how flattered he was.

Knowing now that your feelings were mutual, he becomes kind of smug. “Does that mean you would give your life for me too? That you would serve me if necessary? *chuckle* Don't worry, I'm just messing with you. Unless you don't mind.” You say you would at least kiss him right there and then if that's what he wants. He holds you by the waist. “Be my guest.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[sturnioloszn]

CAUGHT (3) - C.S + M.S

summary; after months of sneaking around, matt and chris finally realise they're being played and decide to teach you a lesson.

warnings; smut, threesome, unprotected sex (wrap the willy), oral (blowjob), face-fucking, creampie, leaving hickeys, praising, degrading, dirty talk, spanking... think that's it lmaoooo?

a/n; finally time for the main event, and I'm shitting myself. i've never written anything similar to this, so let's bear that in mind when reading, gracias. if you don't fw this kinda stuff...ignore? and this was all inspired by @sturnobessed!

P1, P2

An episode of 'Gravity Falls' played on the tv, but it was simpy to fill the silence in the air as both brothers were completely captivated by their own phones.

The warm sun of early summer began to set, and the sky shifted to darker hues. Other than the low sound buzzing from the tv, the only other noise that could be heard was Chris's stomach.

"Yo, wanna go out for food?" Chris asks, still keeping his eyes locked on his screen, waiting for his brother's response. "Earth to Matt?" He spoke again, this time peeling his eyes away from his device to look at his brother, who was sat inches away on the couch.

Matt replied with a small mumble, still keeping his eyes locked on his phone, not caring about whatever stupidness his brother was saying.

"Kid, what's got you grinnin' from ear to ear?" Chris points out, shifting to move closer to Matt. However, Matt quickly pulls away his phone, refusing to let his brother see his screen. "Don't be a dickhead, show me," He whines.

It wasn't unusual for Chris to bitch and moan about not getting his way, he was the youngest after all; and like every time, Matt gave in, briefly panning his phone over to Chris.

"Just talking to my girl," Matt says, blushing at the current conversation and pulling his phone back.

"Your girl?! Wait, y'mean girlfriend or what..?" Chris asks, his interest now peaked. He moved even closer so that their shoulders were now touching, and he had a clear view of their chat.

"Nah, we're just fucking about, she's chill," He corrects, typing away on his phone. "Fuck," Matt speaks under his breath, regarding the picture that had just popped on his screen.

Due to the fact that Chris was also peering over Matt's phone, he too got flashed by the nude selfie that just appeared. A short second passed before Chris ripped the phone out of Matt's hands and stood up, walking away with the phone.

"What the fuck are you doing!" Matt says, standing up to follow his brother who was already in the kitchen. "Give me my phone, Chris!" He continued to yell.

"No fucking way," Chris spoke as he continued to analyse the picture. Matt tried to grab his phone back, but Chris kept fighting him off, being careful not to lock the phone.

"Chris, stop being an asshole," Matt speaks, giving up on trying to reach for his phone, instead landing a firm punch to Chris's arm.

"Ow!" Chris yelped, dropping Matt's phone. Matt picked up his phone and walked back to the couch where Chris followed suit, rubbing his now sore arm.

"Actin' like you've never seen a pair of tits before," Matt huffed, going back to his conversation.

"It's not that smart ass, I recognise them," Chris says, sitting back next to his brother. Matt's head whips to look at him.

"How the fuck would you recognise them?" He questions, bringing the picture back up and staring for a moment. Chris leans over and also looks over the picture, finding the pink jewellery eerily familiar.

That's when realisation struck.

"No way, dude," Chris shakes his head and drops it into his palms.

"What?"

"Matt, where'd you meet this girl?" He asks, lifting his head from his hands and looking at his brother, who was very confused.

"At a party... a few months ago? Why?" His brother questions. By now, Chris was certain that his theory was true.

"I've been hooking up with a girl from the party months ago too," Chris begins to explain, finding the words difficult to gather.

"So...?" Matt asks, still confused about what this has to do with anything.

"My girl has the exact same piercings," He clarifies, realisation finally setting in for Matt too.

"We're not fucking the same girl," Matt denies, now shaking his head I'm disbelief. "There's no way,"

"There's only one way to find out... on three say her name," Chris explains. So, on three, the same name fell from their lips, leaving them in complete shock.

As much as they tried to deny it and find other plausible explanations, they were drawing blanks. After filling each other in on what's been happening, they decide its their turn to manipulate the game.

Matt was supposed to drive over to her apartment in an hour, but instead, they organised for her to come to their house. They were about to teach her a lesson she'd never forget.

-

The front door was left unlocked, just as Matt said it would be, and I made my way into the dead silent house. I knew Matt said we'd be completely alone, but the silence was still incredibly off-putting.

"Hello?" My voice echos, bouncing off the walls, as I continued to make my way to Matt's room. There was a bizarre feeling about what was happening right now, but I couldn't place my tongue on it.

I grabbed onto his door handle and pushed it open, being met with the thing I expected least; Matt sat on the edge of his bed and Chris in his gaming chair.

It felt as though the air was knocked from my lungs, and I was completely winded. My eyes flickered between the two brothers and eventually landed on the floor under me.

The tension was so incredibly thick that it could have been cut with scissors. I'm mentally begging for someone to break the silence because whatever words that would come out from their mouths would be less embarrassing than the silence that currently filled the air.

"Wanna tell us something, baby?" Matt says, standing up from the bed, and taking small steps in my direction.

I gulped down my pride and whispered just loud enough for them to hear, "I'm sorry,"

"Sorry for what?" Matt whispers, bringing his hand to under my chin and lifting my head so that my eyes could meet his. However, not a word leaves my lips.

"I think she's sorry for being a little slut who needed two cocks to be satisfied, isn't it?" Chris spits. Matt shushes him before turning back to me.

"Are you mad at me?" I ask, letting a tear roll down the side of my face.

"Of course not... just disappointed," Matt coos, bringing his thumb up to wipe away my tear.

"But that's what your punishment is for," Chris smirks, now also standing up to walk over to where Matt and I were stood.

"Punishement?" I sniffle. I looked over to Chris, who was standing behind Matt, with a sinister grin on his face.

"Well... you wanted two cocks soooo bad, so now you're gonna take them," Chris smirks, pulling me away from Matt's comforting touch. "Tell us how bad you want both of us to fuck you," Chris says, wrapping his hand around my throat and squeezing lightly.

"S-so bad... I need it," I stutter, realising what my 'punishment' would be and realising it wasn't really a punishment at all.

"Fuckin' whore," Chris mutters, before crashing his lips into mine. His lips moved roughly, trying to claim my mouth entirely, and I was too focused on allowing his tongue into my mouth to notice that he was shifting us towards the bed.

The back of my knees hit the bed frame, causing me to fall backwards onto the mattress. Chris follows me and crawls onto the bed, positioning his legs between mine. He rejoins our lips while his hands explore my body. As our mouths fight for dominance, I feel the bed dip just above my head.

The kiss becomes more urgent as both of Chris's hands move to my jeans, quickly unbuttoning them and sliding them down my legs. My shirt is next to go, shortly followed by my lace bra, leaving me in just my matching underwear.

Chris pulls back to admire my bare body beneath him while peeling off his own clothes. I take the opportunity to look around the room for Matt, and I find him sitting against the headboard, palming the stiff bulge in his pants.

I slide myself from underneath Chris and crawl up to Matt, climbing onto his lap. His hands travel down my body, softly groping and squeezing any chance he got. I lean my head down and pepper small kisses all over his neck until I reach the spot, just beneath his ear, which drives him wild.

"Shit," Matt groans, letting his head fall backwards as I suck a purple bruise into his skin. I feel a second pair of hands on my body, moving to pull down my last piece of clothing, leaving me completely naked.

I separate from Matt's neck, looking over my shoulder to find Chris in only his boxers. Matt was still fully dressed; so, I reached down to the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. I then lifted my hips so that I could work on removing his pants.

I slid his boxers and pants off him and threw them somewhere in the room. His cock was painfully hard and sore, begging for attention. I slide off his lap and onto my stomach, bringing my mouth in line with his dick. I swirl my tongue around his red tip, licking up the drops of pre-cum, which spilt out.

"S-stop teasing," He moans, placing one of his hands on the back of my head, softly pushing my head down to take more of his length. I open my mouth wider, letting his cock hit the back of my throat before pulling up again. I keep deep-throating him until I feel Chris come up behind me.

"Lift your hips," He commands, grabbing my hips and forcing them up. With no warning Chris's cock pushes into me, filling me up completely. I focus back on Matt's cock, sucking his tip and rubbing the rest of his length whilst Chris is roughly thrusting into me.

"You're such a fucking slut, wasn't one of us enough for you, hm?" Chris groans as he continues to drill into me from behind, digging his fingertips into my hips. "Answer, bitch!" He says, delivering a harsh slap to my right ass cheek.

I yelp, disconnecting from Matt's dick once again. "N-no... I w-wanted b- AH, BOTH!" I yell, feeling another smack to my ass.

"Of course you did, because you're nothing but a whore," He speaks, giving me another firm slap, as he somehow thrusts his hips even faster into me.

"Chris, that's enough," Matt speaks up, looking down at my red and sore ass cheek.

"She's fine, aren't you, ma?" Chris asks, smoothing his hand over my ass before giving it another slap.

"Mhmm," I moan, giving Chris reassurance that I'm more than okay, before retreating my mouth back to Matt's cock. Chris's actions are becoming more jagged, indicating that he's coming close.

I focus on bringing Matt to his euphoria too, dragging my tongue up the prominent vein on his cock, before flattening my tongue around his length, hollowing my cheeks out, and bobbing my head up and down rhythmically.

Within seconds, his hand is pulling on my hair and thick, warm cum is shooting down my throat. Simultaneously, I feel Chris stutter his hips into me, releasing his load into my pussy.

They're both completely still until I feel Chris pull his semi-hard cock out of me and spread my ass apart, watching his cum drip out of me and onto Matt's bedsheets.

"Matt you've gotta fuck her, she feels amazing," Chris says, looking up at his brother who was still desperately trying to catch his breath from the best head he's ever recieved.

"Please fuck me Matt... I need it so bad," I beg, going back to straddling him.

"Get a condom and you can ride me all night, baby," Matt says. I happily reach over to his nightstand and pull out a condom; I rip it open and slide it over his dick.

"Your such a little pussy for wearing that," Chris says standing up and walking over to stand next to us.

"Shut the fuck up, I'm just cleaner than yo-," Matt spits back but is interrupted by the feeling of my pussy swallowing his cock. Chris rolls his eyes before pulling my hair into a make-shift pony tail.

"Y'gonna be a good girl and suck my dick while you ride him?" Chris asks, somewhat rhetorically, because this was my punishment... I had to do whatever they wanted.

I nodded my head as I began to grind my hips, causing moans to spill from both me and Matt. Chris tightens his grip on my hair and guides my mouth to his already hard again cock. This time, however, I had no control over my mouth as he placed his other hand on the side of my face and thrusted his dick to the back of my throat, causing me to gag.

"If y'think I'm letting you half-suck me like you did him you have another thing coming," Chris groans, as he continues to face-fuck me. I try my best to keep a solid rhythm on Matt's cock but it's proving to be a challenge so I grab his hands and place them on my waist, asking for help.

He takes the hint and softly helps me move my hips back and forth on his length. I speed up my movements, eleciting more moans from both me and Matt. However, my moans are drowned out by the wet sound of Chris's cock continuesly hitting the back of my throat.

"Mmph... I'm close baby, please don't stop," Matt moans, even though he's the one doing the majority of the work. My eyes are rolling to the back of my head, feeling my first orgasm fast-approching. I've been so busy allowing myself to be used that I didn't even realise that I haven't finished at all yet.

I hear a string of swear words fall from Chris's lips as he takes his dick into his hands, pumping it insanely fast. I stick my tongue out, awaiting for his cum.

"Fuck!" He exclaims, painting my tongue white with his cum. "Y'better swallow all of it," Chris moans, pulling his member out of my mouth. I swallow all of it down, just as he wanted, and I stick my tongue back out as proof.

"Good girl, you've been so obedient, haven't you?" Chris coos, pushing away the hair stuck to my forehead from all the sweat. I moan in response, feeling my orgasm about to crash over me.

"Shit, shit, shit," Matt chants, as I feel the condom in me fill up, and I finally feel my own satisfaction coming down onto me. I let out a pornographic moan, squeezing my eyes shut and grabbing onto Matt's shoulders for support as I slowly ride out my high.

Without even opening my eyes, I drop my head down to his shoulder, feeling our sweaty bodies fuse together.

"Holy shit," Chris laughs from next to us, causing me and Matt to also laugh. I peel my eyes open and look at both of them.

"So... I guess you guys found out," I say, slowly removing myself off Matt and wrapping myself up in his sheets.

"Yeah, maybe don't send around titty pics when they're that recognisable," Chris says, shaking his head. My cheeks blush bright red, although you could hardly tell, considering how blushed my face already was.

"C'mon, let's get you in a nice warm bath," Matt says, scooping me up from under his sheets.

-

I woke up the next morning in between two of the hottest guys ever. After we all cleaned up and Matt changed his sheets, we all settled into the couch and watched a movie. But we were all so exhausted that we didn't even get through half of it before passing out, all sprawled out on the couch.

Replaying the events leading up to this moment, I would've never thought that this was how it ended, but I would be absolutely crazy if I said that I'd want it to be any other way.

a/n; omg, this is longgg. anyway, this isn't as good as i wanted it to be, but it's my first time writing something like this, so i guess i can't be too picky. but thanks for reading, love you <3.

Taglist; @idrk2292 @starclinexo @clairesrose @045696 @forgottxen @mattsturniolover @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @chrissturniolodailysluts @sturnobsessedwh0re

[misshoneyimhome]

250 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“Wait… you like me?” I Jack Hughes

Summary; In the world of hockey, you share a close friendship with Jack Hughes. Yet, as your feelings for him grow over time, you decide to keep them hidden. However, when fate suddenly pushes you to confront your emotions, will Jack risk your friendship for something more?

Tropes & warnings; friends to lovers; teasing/light bullying; some sort of sadness; hidden feelings; fear of one-sided love;

Other notes; so, I'm actually starting to find writing about this lad quite enjoyable; I mean, just take a look at him! He's absolutely adorable 🤗

Word count; 1.6K

➼｡ﾟ

You met Jack Hughes for the first time nearly a year after he was drafted, when you had just started working for the New Jersey Devils organization. You had volunteered for some unpaid media tasks, eager to establish yourself in the hockey community, which occasionally allowed you to get closer to the players. And already within your first few weeks at the hockey rink, Jack immediately noticed your curious and focused expression. Without even knowing why, he felt drawn to your shy smile and decided to strike up a conversation with you.

Although his high level of confidence initially took you by surprise, you were instantly charmed by his adorable smile and laughter. And with a combination of cheesy jokes, hockey references, and a playful sense of humour, Jack quickly grasped your deep love and passion for the sport, which only intrigued him further.

You had to admit, it felt as though your friendship blossomed out of nowhere. You bonded over analysing plays, discussing strategies, and the excitement of being part of the Devils' community. And being from the area yourself, you happily showed him around, unveiling all the hidden treasures unknown to many, as you got to know each other on deeper levels.

Jack couldn’t help but admire your dedication and knowledge of hockey, finding your passion for the sport captivating – much like his own. He appreciated how you cheered him on from the side lines, occasionally donning his jersey, and noticed your unwavering commitment to following the team whenever possible.

Yet, as your friendship gradually deepened over the following years, you couldn't deny that you found yourself relishing the time spent with him more and more. His infectious boyish smile, his amusing Florida accent, and his genuine kindness all contributed to making you feel at ease whenever you were in his presence. And as you both transitioned into adulthood, you felt yourself slowly developing deeper emotions for him.

However, you kept these feelings concealed, fearing the potential risk to your friendship. Moreover, you couldn't shake the belief that Jack was entirely out of your league. He was talented, charismatic, and had a magnetic personality that drew people to him. All the girls who pursued him exuded glamour and confidence, and you couldn't help but feel like you didn't measure up.

But though you didn't align with the same interests as those girls – preferring quiet evenings discussing hockey stats over amazing dinners – Jack valued your genuine calm and laid-back demeanour. He appreciated your dedication to your work and simply relished spending time with you, whether engaged in hockey conversations or simply enjoying each other's company.

And despite your insecurities, you treasured your friendship with Jack as well, grateful for the connection you shared. You simply never entertained the thought that he could view you as anything beyond a friend. Thus, you chose to keep your feelings hidden, content with enjoying his company and offering support in any way possible.

**

However, on one fateful night, fate seemed to conspire against you.

As the arena hummed with excitement, the New Jersey Devils celebrated yet another hard-earned victory over their rivals. Amidst a sea of cheering fans, you stood, passionately supporting the team you had grown to adore, as the energy was palpable, and the jubilation of the win filled the air.

And following the game, you found yourself in the company of Jack and several other members of the Devils organization. However, as you shared laughter and conversation, revelling in the triumph, the discussion suddenly took an unexpected turn.

The girls in the group began to tease you in a playful manner about your close friendship with Jack, their words carrying a mischievous undertone. Initially, it was light-hearted banter, harmless jests exchanged among friends. However, their teasing gradually veered towards a more pointed direction, causing a blush to spread across your cheeks with embarrassment.

"I swear, y/n, every time Jack scores a goal, you look at him as though he's the only person in the room," one of the girls teased, nudging you with her elbow.

And then another girl joined in, her laughter resonating through the air. "Yeah, it's as if you're completely smitten with him or something."

You attempted to shrug off their remarks with a nervous chuckle, but instead, it only seemed to encourage their teasing further.

"I think she might actually have a bit of a crush on him," one of them remarked, her tone laced with mock seriousness.

And then the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt your cheeks flushing even warmer. No matter how hard you tried to conceal it, you couldn't deny the truth in their words.

"Oh my gosh! She does... y/n's got a thing for Jack Hughes, how adorable," the first girl exclaimed, her laughter ringing through the hallway.

And nable to bear the embarrassment any longer, you hastily excused yourself from the group, muttering something about needing to freshen up. You spun on your heel and hurried away, seeking to put as much distance between yourself and the teasing girls as possible.

"Wait, y/n, hold on," Jack called out to you, his voice gentle but insistent.

But just as you thought you had managed to escape, you felt a gentle hand on your arm, halting your retreat. Turning around, you were met with Jack's concerned gaze, his expression soft yet urgent. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eye, the embarrassment still blazing hot on your cheeks.

"Y/n, don't walk away like that..." Jack pleaded, his grip tightening around your arm.

"Please, Jack," you attempted to shake him off, your voice barely audible. "I just want to go home, okay? You can just go back to your friends."

"What, no,” Jack's voice betrayed confusion and concern. "I'm not done talking to you."

You sighed, giving in slightly, pulling your hand to cross your arms across your chest. "Fine, then let’s talk?"

"I want to know about what they were saying back there," he said, his tone grave.

You bit your lip, feeling the blush returning to your cheeks, your arms tucking yourself tightly in a defence. "It's nothing, just silly chatter among girls."

Jack shook his head, his brows knitting together. "It didn't sound like nothing. They were discussing you and me, weren't they?"

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. "They... they were just teasing. It's not important." You tried to force a light chuckle, but your heavy breaths failed you. 

"Y/n," Jack said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, sending shivers down your spine. “Talk to me.”

Your heart raced in your chest as you struggled to find the right words, tears pressing on, yet you managed to hold them back. "I... Jack, I..."

He lifted your chin gently, compelling you to meet his gaze. "Wait... you like me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his stare. "Yes," you admitted quietly. "But I understand if you don't feel the same way. I mean, look at me, I'm nothing like the girls you're used to..."

Jack's expression softened; his thumb moving to trace gentle circles on your cheek. "Y/n, I don’t want you to be like those girls. You're not like anyone else I know. And that's what I like about you. You're passionate, driven, and you love hockey just as much as I do. You're not just some random girl to me, you're my best friend."

Tears welled up in your eyes, overwhelmed by his words. "But what about those other girls? The ones who are always around you, the ones who..."

"They mean nothing to me," Jack interrupted, his voice firm. "The only person I care about is you."

You searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity and warmth reflected back at you. And in that moment, you realized that there was a chance that everything was about to change.

"Jack," you whispered. "I like you. More than just a best friend."

A smile spread across Jack's face, and before you knew it, he was leaning in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. As you melted into his embrace, you couldn't help but think that perhaps, just perhaps, this was the start of something truly special.

And in that tender moment when Jack's lips met yours, all your worries and insecurities seemed to slowly dissolve. There was only the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other's embrace.

You leaned into the kiss, relishing the sensation of Jack's lips against yours, his gentle touch sending shivers down your spine. It felt like a dream come true, something you had only dared to imagine in your wildest fantasies.

And as the kiss deepened, you were swept away by a rush of emotions – joy, relief, and an overwhelming sense of love. It was surreal to believe that Jack felt the same way about you, that he saw you as more than just a friend.

Then breaking away from the kiss, he looked into your eyes with a soft smile. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he confessed, his voice brimming with sincerity.

And you couldn't help but smile back, feeling a wave of happiness wash over you. "Me too," you whispered, your heart overflowing with love for the man standing before you.

In that moment, everything felt perfect – the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in each other's embrace.

"So, you like me too, huh?" You chuckled lightly, breaking the silence that enveloped you.

"Yeah, probably have for a while…" Jack's admission was timid, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

"You should’ve said something," you spoke almost nervously, feeling a little ridiculous for not having had the courage to speak up sooner.

"Sorry, I was afraid you didn’t feel the same…" Jack's words were filled with regret.

You couldn't suppress a light laughter, the tension dissipating. "Jack, how could I not feel the same? Everyone likes you."

"Told you, to me you’re different. But I’m just happy that you do like me… because I’m crazy about you," Jack confessed, his words filled with sincerity and warmth.

And with another kiss, you sealed the newfound relationship, the warmth of it echoing the promise of a future filled with love and happiness.

[kiranixst]

The timeline of this photo has been bothering me since I watched the movie

So I've watched the rise movie a good few times now and this photo has annoyed me for a while, if I make any mistakes please correct me cause maybe I overlooked something

So we all know casey jr brings this photo back with him from the future. It shows what I'm assuming is the gang celebrating April's accomplishment (a certificate/plaque?) From EastLaird University, we know from the present timeline she is currently studying journalism there and writes for the university's paper. they all pretty much look the same age as the present timeline (i feel like they look a little more mature so maybe a little more time had passed because it looks more like a graduation celebration to me but anyways) and theres no indication the apocalypse had started yet, they're all smiling and look happy right? Again this is just me analysing and making assumptions but surely when faced with the end of the world you wouldn't typically take the time for a celebratory picture right?

Now here's my main question: when and how was this photo actually taken?

From what we know in the movie, casey jr comes back to the exact day the key is found, the foot clan wasted no time in using it to free the krang (as we see in the movie this all happens on the same night), and during the next day the krang have already caused panic and infiltrated metro tower, I assume in the future timeline they probably got there quicker since they had the key temporarily stolen in the present timeline.

Leo and the others don't recognise the photo so it definitly didn't exist in the present timeline yet, the apocalypse basically destroyed any and all civilisation, I would assume the university would also have been destroyed with all the chaos and the gang would have had their hands full in the whole world ending situation, as far as I can see, there's no plausible gap inbetween where this photo could have been taken in the future timeline since it all happened so quickly

[suguwife]

𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧

tags: CEO gojo x f!reader, mean gojo, enemies to lovers trope, 18+ mdni, profanity, teasing, clit play, dub con (?)

- 4.8k wc

(series masterlist) -> chapter two

Silent.

The master bedroom of Gojo Satoru's sky-rise was deathly silent. Neither of you spoke to each other after you came home from the wedding. It was beautiful, yet the moments spent with him weren't. He was nothing but cold.

Neither of you spoke on the way back home, he hasn’t even spared you a single glance yet either. A mutual disdain for the situation you were in, an arranged marriage, one that neither of you truly wanted but was forced upon by his father for the sake of an heir to their family company.

Satoru stood in his master bedroom, loosening his tie from when he slid the ring onto my finger, binding us two together.

A complete joke. He hated this. He hated you. He didn't want to be married and now he was. His ring was now discarded on the bedside drawer.

In a few hours, you were both expected to attend a family dinner back at the Gojo Estate. Right now there was only silence.

Gojo POV

I wash my face in the bathroom, wiping it away with a plush, Egyptian cotton bath towel. Staring into the mirror, as I analyse the exhaustion in my expression. 27 years of being controlled under my father's rules were tiring. My whole childhood was just my father rambling on to me about the company and business and how I should behave. My family, apart from my biological mother, never loved me, so I’ve never really believed in love either. And hell, I don't think I'd ever fall in love with her either.

Not when I was surrounded by an angry and distant household my whole childhood, how could I ever believe in the joke of love? Marriage is useless to me. I didn't want to get married, especially not to some woman I barely knew.

Turning away from the mirror, I walk out the bathroom in just a pair of black sweatpants. The door separating the bathroom from the bedroom slowly opened.

When my eyes locked onto her sitting like a lost puppy on my bed I swallowed. My eyes were travelling over her figure, and it stayed there. How she was wrapped up in that cream, satin dress. How it highlighted every curve of her.

I push his hands into my pockets and lean against the bathroom door frame. I don’t say anything yet, waiting for her to speak first instead. My eyes continued to wander over her figure sitting on my bed. I take a deep breath and cross my arms over my chest, still leaning against the door frame, still staring at her.

I silently analyse her.

I hated her. I hated that she was the one that had father arrange this marriage. Hated that her family and mine were already friends, making it easier for this arrangement. I hated her so much I could strangle her.

Cruel, yes, do I care? No.

However, I couldn't deny her beauty.

I move away from the bathroom door frame, taking long strides towards her until I stood in front of her.

A soft sigh left my lips as my eyes continued to look over her. I hated her so much. She was only attractive, that’s all.

I slowly raise my right hand, and placed it under her chin, comfortably grabbing a hold of her entire jawline. Slowly, I raised her face, forcing her to look up at me.

Reader POV

You’re confused. Why is he touching you like this? Is he doing this for his own pleasure or is he trying to show affection? No idea. “What is it?”

His thumb finds your bottom lip, playing with the flesh as his eyes fixated on them whilst he speaks in a quiet and steady tone, “How do you feel about all this? The marriage?”

It was as if a predator was staring down you, the prey, trying to decipher what part of the body he should feast on first.

The more he rubs his thumb against your lip, the more your core tightens and you hate how sensitive you are to touch.

It's embarrassing, really. He didn't pay you any attention during the wedding or the way back and now he’s showing you affection?

You think to yourself. You wanted this marriage. You wanted him to love you, but he never wanted this.

After you told his father that you found an interest towards Satoru, he immediately arranged the marriage. You were unable to take back your words as he didn't listen. He just assumed you were too shy so he ignored your pleas, “It's fine really sir! I don't want to get married to him, I just found him attractive and interesting! That's all!”

You wish you never told his father how you felt about his son. His son is nothing but cold and you know he hates you. It's evident.

Now you’re stuck in a loveless marriage.

And yet you find yourself leaning into the touch of his fingers.

His fingers grab your chin with more pressure, “How do you feel about this marriage? Be honest with me.”

“Um...”

“Be honest with me, doll.” He repeats. That nickname was anything but endearing. It sounded cold, it was mocking you. Mocking you as his doll to control and play with.

Closing the gap further between you both, he leaned forward. His face hovered a mere few cm away from yours. Eyes sharp, breath scorching hot against your face. In fact, he seemed to almost enjoy seeing you all nervous and vulnerable. How cruel. Never mind, that little bit of arousal within you was gone like the wind.

“Are you okay with this marriage?” you say.

He was almost taken back by the question, loosening his grip on your chin. He stared at you silently for a few seconds before responding, “Why do you care?”

It’s not that you care, “I just want to know since you're asking me.”

He rolled his eyes at your response. “What do you think, hm?” he spits, his tone laced with sarcasm. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I feel like this is a mistake.”

It's only a mistake if you make it a mistake.

He continued to lean above you, his body hovering over yours. He was practically pinning you in place with his height and body size.

“This whole marriage was a mistake.” His voice still steady and sharp.

The tension in the air was thick, so thick it was suffocating. It felt as if trying to cut it with a damn knife wouldn't even work. That's how thick it felt.

He spoke again, his voice still cold and harsh. “We are only married because of the fucking elders of my family wanting an heir for the company soon. I don't love you, and I never will. Never.”

You knew he didn't. But you didn't expect him to stab you with those words with such force. You wished he'd just leave you alone.

But he wouldn't.

He's your husband now. You’re married to him. What a blessing.

“Don't get any ideas that this marriage is some goddamn fairytale. It's not. This isn't some happy end to your pathetic life. I can't even stand you. From the moment we met, I found you nothing but annoying.”

You get it, You understand. Why does he keep rambling?

If he can’t stand you why is touching you like this?

He paused and for a brief moment, an amused chuckle escaped from his lips.

He really seemed like a spawn of satan. You didn't expect this.

Tauntingly, and slowly, he began to push his thumb into your mouth, forcing your lips to remain parted, leaving you both uncomfortable and confused

“You're absolutely pathetic. You've been fawning over me for how many years now? And now what, you're my wife?

... I almost pity you.”

His thumb began to gently rub against your tongue inside your mouth. A cold chuckle escaped him as he watched your expression, your saliva coating his thumb. “You’re so goddamn easy to toy with. You want me so desperately, but I don't want you. Isn't that a funny joke?” He continued his little game, gently rubbing the pad of his large, rough thumb against your tongue.

All you could do was furrow your brows and muffle. You couldn't tell if you felt hurt or if you were enjoying this.

God, why are you even debating between two?

You should feel hurt, shouldn't you? So why is your body telling the opposite? Why does his thumb in your mouth feel so good?

Tears were brimming your eyes already from his words and the feeling of his thumb as he pushed further inside your mouth almost reaching for your throat making your lips quiver.

He moved his thumb slightly out again, but still inside your mouth. Gently moving in circles, the pad of his thumb rubbed against the soft flesh of your tongue. “What's wrong? Did I hurt your damn feelings?”

You knew you probably looked so flushed right now, heavy breaths and whimpers escaping you as his thumb continued. And he chuckles.

“Come on doll, say something. Use your pretty little voice.”

You can't speak. You let out a shaken muffle against his thumb in your mouth. He chuckles again. Clearly he found your inability to speak amusing. Dickhead.

He continues pressing his thumb against the flesh of your tongue, your warm saliva coating his skin.

“Did my words take your fucking voice away?” You can’t help but twitch.

“You're so easy to mess with, letting me do whatever the fuck i want. Even when I hurt your feelings. You're basically a toy.” He slowly pulled his thumb out as he spoke, his fingers still grabbing the bottom of your chin in a tight grip.

A string of saliva was still connecting his thumb and you mouth as he pulled it out. He moves his thumb back in as you swallow, making your mouth clench around his sudden entrance.

All you could do was let out another muffle and furrow your brows in frustration. He was messing your damn lipstick up. You’re supposed to go to the family dinner soon and he's messing you up.

What's that supposed to fucking mean?

“Ah, right. Forgot you're a little doll who has to be all prim and proper for the family dinner.” He titled your chin higher, leaning down with his burning breath blowing into your face. “You're so stupid. Getting all flustered and nervous from just a few shitty words, and your biggest worry is your makeup getting messed. Don't you worry about that, sweetheart. Your makeup will get messed up soon enough.”

Why is he taunting you? If he hates you, why is he saying such words? You’re so confused, questioning everything everytime he speaks.

“I said I don't love you, right doll?” His hand traced down from your chin to your neck and slowly wrapped itself around it. Tightening his grip.

You’re scared. You’re so scared. And yet your body is enjoying it. The between of your legs are heated and soaking wet with his behaviour.

You don't know if it's because you’re attracted to him and because he's giving you attention or if it's simply because you enjoy being hurt.

Probably both.

Are you a masochist? Surely not.

“What's the matter? I thought you would say something to defend yourself, or at least try to stand up to me. But I guess it's too much for you, huh?” He slowly began to push you down, forcing you to lay down on the bed, his large hand still wrapped firmly around your neck.

As he hovers over your body, he looks down, slowly applying more pressure onto your neck, pinning you in place, “You're pathetic, doll. You really are.”

Is he going to kill you?

He’s chuckling again darkly at the expression of panic on your face, “Ah, did I scare you doll?” He says with a mocking, soft tone.

He continues to slowly apply more pressure and you can feel your heartbeat and breathing pace up, but he’s chuckling. Again. “What's wrong, doll? You look scared.”

Why does he keep saying that damn name?

He leans closer to your face, his breath scorching hot against your skin, his body hovering mere centimetres away from yours. “Are you afraid that I might hurt you?”

That sentence, that sentence caused your fear to overcome your feeling of arousal. He's being serious.

You can’t move.

You can’t breathe.

His grip on your neck slowly started to loosen again and you immediately start to catch your breath, but his hand begins trailing downwards, moving towards the fabric of your satin dress, “Don't worry, doll.” He paused, leaning even closer, his lips making their way to my ear.

“I won't hurt you too badly, for now.” He whispers into your ear. Jolting fear and terror right through you. What does that mean?

Is he going to abuse you later? Have you really married an abusive man?

You can't help but whimper in response, fear running through your veins.

“Look at you, doll.”

He keeps calling you that and you hate it. You hate it so much. You hate it because when he calls you it, it's to show you as pathetic, as something he can toy with.

He continues to move his large hand, pushing up the fabric of your dress and resting it on the fat of your thigh, just above the strap of the garter that you hadn't bothered to take off yet.

“You look so damn nervous and scared right now. Maybe you should be. It's not fun if you're not.” He slowly began to trail his hand up your thigh, pushing the fabric up in the progress.

“Stop.. we have to attend the dinner soon-“

“Oh, my Y/N is so damn worried about being on time for these stupid dinners, isn't she?” He starts to slowly slide his hand up further underneath your dress. “Calm down, doll. Theres no need to worry about the fucking family dinner. I'm sure they won't mind if we're a little late.”

Slowly, he began to toy with the strap of your garter, gently teasing the fabric with his long, cold fingers. “Maybe I just want to keep you all to myself.” He whispers into your ear and you can feel his breath hot against your neck, making you hitch your breath.

“Maybe I just want to mess you up before this stupid family dinner, and show everyone the way you fall apart under my touch.” He's right, you are falling apart.

How pathetic.

“You look so damn pretty in this dress. It's too bad that I know it wont stay on for much longer, doll.”

You flush, like an idiot.

You can literally feel the heat radiating off your cheeks. A cold, distant chuckle escapes him as he stares down at you.

What the fuck are you doing?

“Oh, doll.” He whispers into your ear once more. “You're getting all excited at the idea of me messing you up, aren't you?” His fingers gently push your underwear to the side, tracing and smoothing his digits over your already wet folds, up and down. Your eyeslids flutter in response, completely flushed as you let out a shuddered breath.

He chuckles again. He keeps fucking chuckling.

“Look at you, so desperate and needy, but I know you want this. You want me to mess you up. Don't you?”

Slowly, he removes his hand, tracing his finger up your body in a taunting manner, gently tracing the curves and dips of your figure before stopping at your chest, just above the fabric of the dress.

“Well it's not gonna happen.” He snaps in a low, frustrated tone looking down at you with nothing but immense hatred.

Oh, okay.

He removes his hand away from you, pushing himself back slowly, moving off your body that he finds so much disgust in. He sits on the edge of the bed.

That's it? He built up your breathing, made you get wet from his sickening words, and then just.. moves away?

"What the hell did you think was gonna happen here?" He says in a bitter tone.

You have no idea. You don't know why you’re being so passive either. This isn’t you.

Maybe it is you.

God get a grip!

“Did you think I was gonna give you what you want?” He paused, running a hand through his hair with a frustrated expression. He's so frustrated. He's always frustrated. “You really think you're that damn lucky?”

He pauses again as he sits on the edge of the bed. Then speaks again. “Y/N, you're so fucking desperate. It’s almost embarrassing for you.”

You lay on your back in that same position he had pinned you down on by holding onto your throat, almost killing you.

You’re left dumbfounded.

He continues to look down at the ground, avoiding eye contact with you, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re so desperate for my touch. So desperate for my attention. You’re so obsessed with me it’s almost sickening.” He says in a low, annoyed tone.

That’s not true.

Maybe it is.

“Do you have any idea how much I hate this? How much I hate you?” He clenched his fists tighter and let out a bitter scoff, still avoiding eye contact. “I despise you, Y/N. Every single damn thing about you pisses me off. You’re nothing but a headache to me.” He paused for a moment, his voice becoming ice cold. “Honestly I wish I could just rip your fucking heart out and snap it in two.”

You flinch at the words, a single tear rolling down your eye that you didn’t even notice until it itches down the skin of your neck.

How could he say such things? Does he mean that?

You don’t like him. Forget it. All that attraction is gone.

“What, are you about to cry now?”

You don’t respond, another tear escaping as you stare at the ceiling.

Why are you crying? You don’t care.

“Ah look, another tear. Do you want me to comfort you or something?” He mocks tauntingly. “Want me to tell you that it’s just a little joke?” “Want me to say I love you?”

Stop it.

He continues to watch the tears escape your eyes as your face remains expressionless, an expression of disgust now on his face. You slowly sit up, hair messed from him pinning you on the bed, your lipstick smudged by his thumb.

“Look at you, you look a fuckin’ mess.” He chuckles as he takes in your current state.

You continue to stay silent. What's the point of biting back? He’ll just bite back worse.

“You look even more pathetic when you don’t speak Y/N, but I guess it’s better this way. It’s better when you don’t speak.” He says in a mocking tone. Always mocking you. “Because every single word that leaves your mouth pisses me off even more than I already was.” Bitter. “Honestly, I wish you would just shut your mouth all the time. It’d be better for the both of us.” He lets out a bitter scoff as he glares at you sternly. “But of course you never do. You’re always whining or begging. You’re so fucking loud.”

What the fuck is he ranting about now? You’re irritated.

He’s just throwing random delusions in his mind that he’s created in his small pea-sized brain to justify his hatred towards you. Well you hate him too now. “I’ve barely spoken since we got married this morning-“ But of course he cuts you off.

“You still spoke plenty at the wedding.” He says irritably as he rolls his eyes. “And all those people saw what a desperate, clingy mess you are. You were practically begging me to say I love you at the altar.”

That’s not true either.

“They saw you cling onto me like a toy. They saw you holding onto my arm. They saw the way you were all flustered when I said my vows to you.”

You were just playing the act of a happy bride.

“They saw how you looked at me when I slid that ring onto your finger. Like you were seeing your whole world fall into place or whatever other bullshit.” He lets out another scoff, his voice laced with bitterness. “God, you make me sick.”

“Well why did you agree to this arrangement if you never wanted it?” You bite back, irritated by his stupid accusations.

“I agreed to this arrangement because I didn’t have a damn choice, doll. Did you really think I would choose to marry you?” He clenches his fists at his sides again.

He does that quite often and you can't tell if he’s trying to ease his tension or if he’s doing that to hold back from punching you.

Probably the second theory.

What is it that he has against you so badly? Did he have to break up with someone to be with you or what?

“Now I’m stuck with you because father wants a fucking heir. I hate you, it makes me sick to think about a child with you.” He continues to glare at you, his expression still filled with hatred and annoyance. “It's like he knew exactly how to make me suffer. He knew that marrying me to a clingy, desperate doll like you would really piss me off. And he was right.”

He keeps saying you’re clingy. You’re not clingy?

He was the one with his thumb in your mouth a couple minutes ago. Not the other way around.

“Father knew that having a wife like you, who's obsessed with me, would be the worst possible nightmare for me. And now he’s trapped me with you forever, doll.”

You’re the trapped one here. You don’t know why you’re not arguing back as much. Well, mainly it’s because you know he won’t listen, won’t care and would just stick to his stupid thoughts.

“I’m not clingy, where the fuck do you keep getting that from?”

“Doll, you’ve been clinging to me since morning. At the damn wedding, you were hanging onto my arm the whole time, and you were blushing like a damn idiot when I slid the ring onto your finger. Do you really think that's not clingy?”

“Thats because we needed to show the guests that the marriage is fine.” You grit your teeth in response. Is it not obvious?

He sneered at your comment. “Ah, there it is. That bullshit excuse. You were doing it for the guests, right? To show them that everything is fine. You were just faking your clinginess to show the damn guests that it's ‘fine’, huh? Is that what you're telling yourself?”

He chuckles bitterly “You were not just faking it for the guests, doll. You wanted to cling onto me in front of everyone. You wanted to let them all know that you're mine now”

You let out a sigh as he speaks, nothing you say will go through his thick head. Whats the point in arguing back? You’d waste your breath.

He lets out a scoff. Always scoffing. “What? Is that a sigh of defeat, doll? Finally accepting that you're just a clingy, desperate, obsessed mess?”

“I’m not obsessive.”

He rolls his eyes again. “Oh? So you're not obsessed with me?” He paused for a moment, sarcastically pretending to think before he continued. “So you don't spend your whole day thinking about me? You dont think about when you get to touch me again? You dont fantasize about when you can get my attention again?”

Is he fantasising that? Are his memories messed up?

You don’t do any of that. You almost want to laugh, holy shit.

“You just have a big ego.” You say as you turn your head to glare back at him, scoffing a laugh. Frustration evident across your features.

He lets out a bitter chuckle at your comment. "Maybe you're right, doll. I do have a big ego.”

You sigh again as you begin to stand up.

“What, you giving up now?”

Ignoring him, you make your way to the large walk in closet and fix yourself in the mirror, and you know he’s watching you.

“Doll?” He calls out in a cold tone.

He calls out again, this time raising his voice slightly “Doll, get back out here and stop avoiding me.”

You brush my hair, still ignoring him. Now he wants you back near him? He’s just contradicting himself.

You’re hurting his ego by ignoring him yet you’re giving what he wants by leaving him alone.

Clearly his ego is winning.

“Y/N.” He says in a stern tone. No longer using that awfully sick nickname of ‘Doll.’ “I said get out here, now.”

Why does he want you near him again? He just said you make him sick. You reapply your lip liner.

He groans irritably when you continue to ignore his calls and you can feel his presence nearing you.

You tint your lips with a gloss, he’s right behind you now, peering over your shoulder as you continue to touch up your appearance. He watches in silence, his expression still filled with resentment and annoyance.

He lets out a scoff when he sees you running the liner over your lips again. He rolls his eyes at the sight. “Jesus Christ, doll. How much lipstick do you have on right now?”

You continue to ignore his words as you rub your lips together and dab them with your finger.

His expression remains cold and annoyed, but you don’t miss the way his pupils trail and take in every feature of your face and body through the mirror.

Finally, you turn around, his gaze still locked on you. His eyes slowly wander over every inch of you, taking in the way the light reflects off your skin, and how the fabric of your dress hugs your body. He takes in every little detail, from your hair, to the blush on your cheeks, to the shine on your lips.

You still ignore him, walking past him.

He lets out a scoff, clearly annoyed. “Are you just gonna pretend l'm not here now?”

He steps forward, stopping you in your tracks as he places a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to stop. “Don't ignore me.” He said in a cold, irritated tone.

He steps closer, closing the distance between the two of you. He grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look up at him. “Don't ignore me when I'm speaking to you, Y/N.”

He’s so close to you now, again, his icy gaze locked on you. His body is pressed up against yours, trapping you in his grasp. He holds your chin firmly, keeping you in place as he speaks in a cold, commanding tone. “You will look at me when I speak to you. You will not ignore me. Understand?”

Who the fuck is he talking to?

He waits for your response, his gaze fixated on you. He keeps his grip firm on your chin, not allowing you to look away or escape his grasp. “Answer me, y/n.”

You look up at him, taking in his presence. He’s beautiful. His heart is not. His heart is just as icy as his eyes. His beautiful eyes.

He holds your gaze for a moment, “Good.” He says in an approving tone. He releases his grip on your chin, but doesn't move away from you. He remains standing closely to you, his body still pressed against yours

He lets out a scoff, his expression still cold. “You really are a pain in the ass, you know that?” He paused for a moment, before continuing in a mocking tone.

Now he’s complaining? “You don’t even want me near you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I don't want you near me, doll. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you ignore me or avoid me when I'm speaking to you.”

Oh, so it’s about control.

You’re bored of being in this room. You’re bored of his childish behaviour. You sigh as you speak, “We should get going, your father’s estate is an hour away.”

He scoffs at your sigh. “Yeah, yeah we should get going. And don't sigh at me again, doll. You know that pisses me off.”

Do you care? No.

He takes a step back from you, giving you some space to move. He walks over to his wardrobe putting on plain black pants and a white shirt, leaving the first 2 buttons unbuttoned. God, he looks so good.

He fixes his hair quickly then you both head over to the penthouse entrance and pull on your shoes.

“Come on.” He grabs his car keys and you both make your way out. He steps into the elevator alongside you, his expression still cold and emotionless. Standing silently in the elevator, he crosses his arms over his chest.

The elevator dings and you both enter the garage. He leads the way to his car, unlocking the doors with the key fob in his hand.

He walks over to the driver seat but doesn’t open the passenger door for you.

Why would he anyway? There’s nobody around.

Nobody to fake your appearance to.

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