#i don’t understand what the benefit of any of this could be unless they just genuinely deep down felt like cruelty brought them joy

[all-da-ladies-luv-nico]

unfortunately, due to circumstances, i now believe that most people may be inherently evil and derive pleasure from the suffering of others

that’s literally the only explanation i can come up with

[slttygeto]

I'd love to see me from your pov — GOJO S.

synopsis: Gojo Satoru seems to struggle with the idea of love and doesn't quite know where to stand. Luckily for him, you're there to soothe his worries every time.

word count: 2,1k

content warning: a tiny bit of angst, but you know me and my love for this man.

note: hi hello there :)! it's October which means it's the 4th year anniversary since the release of ariana's album positions! I adore that album with all of my being, and what better way to show my love than to dedicate some of my favorite songs to my favorite anime men? enjoy reading!

Satoru has never known what love is. His parents’ marriage was an arranged one, his mother’s good looks and her status along with his father’s powerful technique is what brought them together. And nine months later, the wielder of the six eyes was born. Raised in an environment where his father was barely around, the only warmth he’s ever felt was his mother’s hand holding his smaller one as she walks him around the Gojo estate, showing off the boy whose birth altered the balance of the world. 

Then she was off to do her duties as Madame Gojo. 

Satoru remembers his childhood as being extremely dull. He was forbidden from social interactions, was told that they are useless unless the person was of any benefit to him or his powers—which at the time, six year old Satoru didn’t understand but he had no choice but to comply with his father’s words. 

Bright pair of blue eyes would then follow his father’s figure as he made his way towards the sliding paper door, but before he could leave, the tall man turned towards his wife whose eyes remained glued to her lap before announcing. 

“I’ll be off.” Whether that meant for hours, days or weeks, Satoru never knew. 

Logically, that led to the creation of his image on love and marriage. He avoided the two concepts like the plague. Love was always meant to find others before it could even glance his way, and Satoru was okay with that. 

He was okay with spending the rest of his time alone, maybe he would buy a house on the top of a hill and own a nice border collie dog. Perhaps, that dog would show him a little bit of loyalty and love because Satoru feeds it and takes it on walks, but when the sun goes down and the dog goes to sleep, it would be just Satoru and his thoughts. Dying alone sounded scary, but it was better than ending up like his parents.

“Are you okay?” The tall man feels a gentle squeeze on his large hand. Suddenly, he’s pulled back into the present. 

The smell of fresh roses and the cold breeze overwhelm his senses. He blinks and realizes that he must’ve taken off his blindfold somewhere—Satoru can’t remember where, or why he got so lost in his thoughts.

“Satoru?” That voice. That sweet, warm and honeyed voice, barely above a whisper as it calls out his name and he gets another whiff of something—perfume.

Your perfume.

You’re standing next to him, smaller frame and smaller hand squeezing his own and he remembers why he was pulled back into his childhood. 

You had squeezed his hand the same way his mother did. Except this time, you don’t pull away like she does. In fact, you haven't pulled away in years. 

When Suguru left, Satoru was trying to piece himself back together within the confines of his own place. Quiet, cold and unwelcoming. He despised the feeling, it made him feel like shit and Satoru was usually the type to ignore his feelings—so when they come crashing against him in strong waves, the strongest can’t duck down and avoid them, he can’t swim away and find refuge. He chooses to believe that he is his own refuge, even if he’s messy and selfish and quite literally just a jerk. The strongest was unable to save his own best friend from a fate that is so horrible, one that could’ve easily been avoided had he looked harder. 

Had he not been raised that way. 

“Satoru?” 

On a cold October night in 2007, you show up at Satoru’s apartment with food and homemade sweets. You’re sweaty, clearly having climbed up the stairs since you had no access to the elevator. He sees you, he cannot process the reason for your sudden visit until he sees your lip quiver and your eyes fill with tears.

“I’m sorry.” You say with so much emotion that the teenager can only try to stop himself from digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands. 

Although he only realizes it years later, the only person who had shown Satoru that he was worth a bit of love was Suguru. He had been your classmate too, your friend. You’re grieving his absence too, but you choose to stay with Satoru that night. He doesn’t say much, you don’t press him about it. 

He doesn’t understand why. 

A couple of months pass, your visits become more regular. He buys you a mattress and even suggests you move in with him in the guest room of his apartment. And after much consideration, you agree and the two of you become roommates.

What had once been a cold, uncomfortable apartment slowly turns into a refuge for Satoru, a place he looks forward to coming back to after a long day of missions. Was it because of the smell of food that fills the hallway as he approaches the door, or the thought of finding you in there when he inserts the key? Satoru isn’t sure yet.

He’s still a bit confused as to why you want to be around him.

Months turn into years, your presence remains a constant in his and Megumi’s lives when he takes him in. You have your own room that you choose to share with Tsumiki and you treat the two children like your own. The strongest believes that your heart is as big as the oceans combined.

For someone whose youth was stolen away by the Jujutsu society, Satoru tries to make sure that his students don’t meet the same fate. So he takes on countless missions, protects students like they’re his own children and promises them a bright future. Even if it’s at the expense of his own. 

You hate that, and you make it clear to him the day he takes in Yuuta.

“That’s such bullshit.”

“Hey, watch it.”

“No, you listen to me!” This is the most emotion you’ve shown since that one night you came to visit him. Satoru looks up from his phone where he’s sitting, and is a bit taken aback when he sees your eyes fill up with tears. “Do you realize how dangerous it is to be going around and doing shit like that?” 

“What–saving them?”

“Ruining your future!” You raise your hands in the air. 

“I don’t have a future.” 

The room falls silent. Suddenly, you’re glad that Megumi and Tsumiki weren’t home. Your eyes meet his, and the white haired male watches as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There’s a thousand expressions on your face—betrayal? Hurt? Worry? He can’t decipher them.

He is overwhelmed. His six eyes are screaming at him that your cursed energy was elevating, your body temperature was rising and he can see that your chest is heaving. 

He still doesn’t realize what he had just said. 

To him, it was the truth. There was nothing morbid about his words. If he couldn’t see himself marrying or falling in love, then Satoru simply did not have a future. Those children do, and that’s what he should prioritize.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t–”

“Satoru–” you lose your breath as you utter his name, broken and weak. You gulp harshly, heart pounding loudly in your ears. “You can’t say that.”

It’s selfish, you’re aware of that, but it can’t be helped. You watch as the light of the man you had been clinging onto like a lifeline for years starts to dim, and you scramble to find the source of the problem. 

And while Satoru’s six eyes are screaming at him to walk away, his heart pins him to the ground of his living room. Overwhelmed and emotional, it reminds him of that one lonely night. He can’t tell you how he feels, he can’t pinpoint to you that it’s because of his parents that his heart refuses to let him accept the idea of love. He sees the waves coming, large and tall and ready to destroy him years later—as he scrambles to find refuge, his heart finally feels at ease.

Your arms wrap tightly around his middle, chin resting on his shoulder and your hands digging into his shoulders in an attempt to soothe him. You want to stop your chest from stuttering, but your quivering lip gives away your strong emotions. 

“I’ll stay.” 

Why would you stay? 

His arms feel heavy as he lifts them up and finally rests them on your warm body, pulling you so close to him you feel yourself suffocate. It doesn’t matter. Satoru hugs you so tightly that you hear your heart break. 

You don’t comment on the wet feeling on your shoulder, or the way his hands tremble as they grip the back of your shirt. You let him cling onto you as though you were the air he needed to breathe, the warmth he sought in the middle of the coldest nights. 

—

“Thank you.” 

“Hm?” You look to your side, a bit confused. The white haired man thinks you look very adorable when you’re clueless, trying to understand his words. 

“Thank you? What for?” Satoru isn’t one to get nervous, but your stare has him feeling a little hot. He hopes he isn’t blushing, it doesn’t suit his brand. 

“For saying yes.” This time, he is the one who squeezes your hand and you hold back a chuckle at how he avoids eye contact. You squeeze his hand back and lean your head against his shoulder.

“I would be crazy not to marry you.” 

“But you know… given my line of work, and Suguru—”

“Satoru,” you stop the man before he can carry on with his small ramble. You appreciate how vocal he is, it is one of the major changes to his personality ever since the two of you made it official. “I am a sorcerer as well. I understand.”

“You hate the missions I take.”

“I hate the way the higher ups view you, not the missions you take.”

Silence engulfs the two of you. 

You fidget with your hands, feeling as though you might’ve crossed a line your husband wasn’t ready to let you cross yet—

“And you?”

“Huh?”

“How do you view me?” He asks, voice low and small. He still doesn’t look at you, nor does he look anywhere really. Despite being 28 years old, Satoru feels the same way he felt at 6 years old. Vulnerable, worthless and in need of a reminder of what he brought to this world other than his powers–

“You’re handsome.” You break his chain of thoughts with a lot of ease, and he looks up at you with wide eyes. “A handsome, caring young man with a big,” a finger traces his heart over his shirt, “big heart. You have a child-like spirit, and a boy-ish smile that could make anyone fall for you very easily. I don’t want to focus too much on your looks, but they’re unfortunately a huge part of who you are,”

“You’re selfless.” You lean against the balcony railings, staring down at the city. “People take you for granted and either you don’t seem to notice, or you try not to.”

��And last, you’re too good for this world.” 

Your eyes sparkle as you describe every small detail about the man. You pour all of your emotions into your tiny monologue, so you fail to notice that Satoru had removed his hands off the railings. Until you feel something warm on your sides and something heavy on your shoulder. 

“Satoru?”

“I’m fine,” his broken voice would beg to differ, but you don’t push him. You rest your hands on top of his and let him pull you back against his chest in a warm, tight hug. 

He had always wanted to see himself through your eyes, filled with so much adoration and trust that it made his heart burst in his chest. He was riddled with confusion and something he couldn’t quite decipher anytime you had told him ‘of course it was you’ when he would do something nice, or ‘you’re not like that’ when you heard Nanami mumble something about Satoru’s playful behavior. 

You wish you could give him your eyes, take away some of that overwhelming feeling of being the wielder of the six eyes and allow him to rest—see himself as the selfless, kind-hearted man that he was to you. 

Since that was physically impossible, you’ll stick to loving him as though he held the universe between his palms.

You make loving him seem as easy as breathing, and the inner child living deep within him is forever grateful for that. 

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[rainrot4me]

Better Than Him

Summary: Nina wanted nothing more than to impress Jeff. So, as her best friend, she sought your help on how to get his attention. But when a quick lesson on how to kiss turns intense quickly, you feel it's only right to prove to her she's worth more than him.

Characters: Nina the Killer x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Friends with benefits, humiliation, Jeff is a douchebag, inexperienced, teaching, vaginal grinding, tribbing, eating out, overstimulation, first time, revenge, mention of broken bones

Words: 4.3k

As a creep, you knew all too well the weird tendencies that the other members of the mansion had. 

Especially Nina. But she was your best friend, so of course you let her habits slide more than others. But as she lay in your lap, sobbing about how Jeff brushed her off again, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. It was exhausting, truly. Her every waking thought and action seemed to revolve around the pale killer, but you could never understand why.

Jeff was ugly as shit, face all mangled and gnarly. His personality was a drainer to be around, always cussing you out or telling you how shit you were at something. But the worst thing about him was the constant stench of rot that came off of him, the aftermath of him murdering some helpless guy and never showering after. He wasn’t pleasant to you, but no guy in the mansion was. The only one you could stand was Jack, his quiet demeanor was his only saving quality.

You rubbed Nina’s back, cooing some bullshit about how he would come around eventually and how he didn’t deserve her. You honestly couldn’t care less about him, but it was anything to get Nina to hush. She finally sat up, holding your hands as her highlighted hair sat dishevelled on her forehead. “You have to help me.” She gasped out, eyes frantic as she gripped your hands tight, her neon press on nails digging into your skin. You stared at her, confused. “Help you how?” She smiled, her gapped teeth shining bright. 

“Jeff doesn’t pay any attention to me.” You knew that, obviously. “So, I have to impress him somehow. Like, with something he likes.” She grinned, waiting for you expectantly. You tried to wrack your brain of all the crap Jeff has mentioned liking before, but all you could think of was the porn magazines he hid not so well under his bed. You had found them by accident after Jeff stole your guns over some petty argument, that being the first place you thought to look but ending with an even bigger argument than before. It ended with you locked out of his room and his reputation amongst the other guys little to none. But at least you found an answer.

“Listen, Nina, I don’t thi-” She brushed her bangs from her face, eyes wide and pleading. “Oh please, I don’t care. Whatever Jeff likes I’ll be sure to like too.” You groaned, letting go of Nina’s hands and laying back on her bed, her dark room comforting you. Nina wasn’t at all the porn star type, especially not what Jeff was after. He was still mentally stumped as a horny teenager, so any girl wasn’t good enough unless her ass and tits stuck out farther than the rest of her two-inch waist. It was sick, but you knew Nina wasn’t at all what he was going for. The crazy don’t go for even crazier. Nina was just out of cards. You grumbled.

“Jeff is a pervert, alright? Like… only goes after girls that look like supermodels type shit.” You groaned, refusing to look her in the face. The silence was awkward, you only glanced up to see her lost in thought, that same look she got every time she was contemplating something. “Nina-” But she was already up, already pulling her closet open and shuffling through her clothes. You sat up, trying to get a look at what she was searching for before she pulled it out.

It was a tiny pleated skirt, black and leather that was way too tiny for your liking. She tugged down her patterned skirt, your eyes flicking towards the ceiling quickly to not stare as she stripped. When she stumbled over to her full-length mirror in the corner of her room, you glanced back down, cheeks flushing red. She turned in the mirror, getting good luck with the short shirt that barely even covered anything. Her ass was practically out, the miniskirt just centimeters away from showing her clothed cunt as well. Her panties were purple and pink striped, but you didn’t even have to guess. “Oh, this has to work.” She giggled, shaking her tiny ass teasingly as you shook your head, standing up to meet her. 

“Listen, Nina-” But she was already rushing towards the door, swinging it open as the skirt swayed against her pale skin. “I’m gonna go look for Jeff. Wish me luck!” Before you could say anything else she was out in the hallway, skipping down the stairs and out of view. Jeff was going to kill her if you didn’t first.

-

You heard the crying before you even saw her. It hadn’t even been an hour, but you groaned as you sat up on Nina’s bed, already knowing exactly what was coming. You stayed in her room, opting for the comforting space in case something like this did happen. 

Bursting through the door, Nina’s mascara-streaked cheeks were flushed from crying. She fell on top of your lap, you were quick to scoop her up and sit her comfortably against you as she cried into your shoulder. You knew it wasn’t going to work, but you were going to kill Jeff anyway. You rubbed her back, shushing her as she sobbed loudly, her tears soaking into your shirt and making you cringe. It was routine at this point. Nina would storm in crying, come up with some new hope as to how to impress Jeff, and then disappear before starting the whole cycle over. But this time, there were no questions of what she should do or pleas for compliments. She only lay there, face tucked into the crook of your neck and crying softly. You continued to rub her back, wondering what in the world had happened to make Nina, the most talkative girl you knew, stay silent. 

“Nina?” You cooed, pushing her shoulders back to get a look at her face. Her cheeks were flushed, mascara smudged against her eyes and running, her jagged smile anything but happy. “Wanna tell me what happened?” She wiped her eyes, unzipped her jacket and tossed it onto the floor before laying down on the bed, dragging you down to lay next to her. You held her close, the dark room giving a nice blanket of comfort around the two of you.

“Well,” She started, sniffling. “He liked it, I guess.” You were stunned honestly, turning to look at her face as she continued. “He was in the living room with the other guys, so I walked through, hoping I would catch his attention. It did, and he followed me down the hall, pushing me into the bathroom. I kind of panicked, so I asked him to stop. I pushed him off of me, but he kept grabbing me, trying to pull my panties down.” Your blood was boiling, hands already pressed against the couch and ready to storm downstairs and give Jeff a piece of your mind, but Nina held you close, keeping you down. “Eventually, I guess he got tired of me fighting and shoved me off. He told me I was an ugly… an ugly bitch and that I was lucky he didn’t embarrass me in front of everyone.” 

Nina went quiet, holding your waist close as she silently cried. You held her close, staring at the ceiling as anger raged inside of you. You knew Jeff was a prick, but to do this to her was uncalled for. You sat up, brushing Nina off as you stormed to the door, but Nina’s arms quickly wrapped around you, pulling you back to her bed. You groaned, glancing at her as she quietly begged you not to say anything. She didn’t want him more upset than he already was. You wanted to tell her off, but you guessed that was her fangirl talking. But against your better instinct, you sat back down, Nina quick to hold you close again. 

Her crying had subsided, small pitiful whines replacing them as she wiped her mascara. It was breaking your heart. “Nina. You have to understand that Jeff is a sick fuck. If you’re not willing to do whatever he says, you’re no good, alright?” You grumbled, rubbing her smeared eyeshadow off of her eyelid. “But you’re beautiful, gorgeous even. You can’t let a man who’s set in his dumbass ways dictate your feelings.” She nodded quietly, staring anywhere but into your worried eyes. You hoped your words had reached her, but as she sat up, determination in her face, you knew your hopes were already useless. 

“You’re right. Jeff isn’t going to like me if I don’t like what he likes.” You rolled your eyes hard, groaning into your hands. “I have to show him I can do it!” She was hopeless. But at least the girl had determination like nothing you ever saw. Nina turned to you, wrapping her hands around your shoulders, excitement in her eyes. “You have to teach me how to kiss.” 

You were taken back a second, eyes scanning her flushed face for any signs of some joke. But she was dead serious, smile wide and goofy and she held you stiff. “Nina, I-” But she was already pressing closer to you, crisscrossed knees pressed flush against yours. “Listen! You’re my best friend, [Y/N]. I need you to teach me how.” She was pleading, bright eyes begging you. This was becoming awkward, your weight shifting uncomfortably in her hands. But if you knew Nina, she wouldn’t stop, no matter how badly she needed to. 

“Fine.” You gritted, her smile lighting up. “But this is it. I’m done with your dumb Jeff fantasies.” You were stern, but it was the only way you knew she would listen. Nina nodded quickly, her body pressing close eagerly. In truth, you had fucked around with some relationships before becoming a full-fledged creep, but you were no expert in the sport. Nina, on the other hand, was completely clueless. As far as you knew, she was a stone-cold virgin, her obsession with Jeff giving her some fucked up chastity belt for the killer. You figured you would rather her go in somewhat familiar with the whole deal than get laughed out. 

You brushed your hair off your shoulders, focusing in on her as you spoke delicately. “Firstly, just follow me, or, Jeff, I guess. Don’t try to force anything, just let your lips glide with his. He’s probably going to be pretty rough, but I want you to just learn how to go slow first.” It was like teaching someone how to drive, except you were all nervous and hot. Nina didn’t seem fazed as she mentally jotted down what you were telling her, excitement running through her small frame. You smiled nervously, unsure how to initiate the whole thing. “So, I guess just… uhm…” You sat forward, eyes glancing nervously between Nina’s big eyes and her lip-glossed lips, wrapping your hands around her forearms. From this angle, it was almost impossible not to get a full shot of her panties from the tiny skirt she still wore. You blushed, focusing on her before leaning forward, her eyes flicking excitingly at your lips. “Just do what I do…” You mumbled, your lips inches from hers. 

When Nina pressed forward quickly, finally closing the distance, it shocked you. Your heart was pounding in your ears, fingers gripping her arms nervously as you began to slide your lips against her smooth ones. Her lipgloss tasted sweet, both of your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to slowly make out with her. Nina was pressing close, her lips moving just a little too eagerly for your pace, so you had to slow her down. Letting her arms go, you slid your hands on either side of her head, tangling your fingers in her dark hair and angling her head, guiding her lips to move against yours easily. She happily complied, her hands reaching up to cup yours as her lips followed yours nicely. You were making out eagerly, every brush of your lips more electric than you thought it was supposed to be. But you had little time to contemplate your confusion as Nina slid her arms around your neck and swung her leg over your thighs, straddling you as she refused to let off your lips. 

This was quickly spiralling out of control, but when Nina’s little breathy whines broke through every gap in your kissing, your resolve was beginning to melt. Your hands slid to her waist, her thin body pressed close onto yours. You were both breathing heavily, chests pressed against each other as you practically swallowed the other in heavy kisses. This was becoming too much for her, Nina’s whines growing louder as you peeked your eyes open, seeing her brows knitted roughly. You slid your hand against her cheek, pushing her back as you both caught your breath, lips swollen and cheeks red. “Uh-” You panted, quickly becoming aware of the position the two of you were in and growing anxious. Nina only smiled, scanning your face as she caught her breath, wiping her lips off her sweet lipgloss. “I think… I think I need one more example.” She giggled, eyes heavy as she leaned back in slowly. You nodded, unsure of what you were even thinking as you slipped your hand into the back of her hair, fisting it softly. Nina smiled back into the kiss, her lips dancing with yours comfortably. You were just helping her learn. So of course you needed to show her every possible scenario that Jeff was going to throw her way.

At least that’s what you told yourself as you gripped your hands under the thighs, flipping the two of you over and pressing her back into the bed. Nina giggled, her arms gripping your shoulders tight as you pressed against her lips hard, roughly tugging her bottom lip with your teeth. “Jeff’s… probably- ah, probably going to be rough. So you gotta… gotta be ready.” You panted against her lips, placing your arms on either side of her head as you nestled between her legs. She nodded, moving away from your lips to press her swollen lips against the corner of your mouth, pecking slowly down to your neck. You gasped, her sweet chaste kisses sending goosebumps against your skin. “Ah- Nina-”

“It’s okay,” She purred, placing her wet kiss under your chin. “I’m just trying to, ah, see what I should try on Jeff.” You couldn’t protest any logical answer as she slid her hands under your shirt, her cold fingers scratching gently and making you groan. “Yeah… yeah that makes sense…” You whined, Nina’s hands pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the side. She pushed your shoulders back, rolling you over so she was straddling your lap again, your back pressed against her bed. “Like, I wonder…” Nina’s face was red as she slid down, her lips pressing sweetly against your chest and down in between your tits. “Would Jeff like this?” You glanced down nervously as she palmed your bra, kneading your tits in her delicate hands. Your face exploded with heat, a small gasp falling from your lips as she pushed your bra up off your tits, letting the mounds fall exposed. You glanced at her nervously, unsure if you should draw a line. This wasn’t a learning experience anymore, this was a horny virgin finally getting to release herself. And who were you, as her best friend, to deny her that feeling?

You let yourself relax, reaching behind your back to unclip your bra and sliding it off your chest, Nina’s eager eyes watching closely. “I don’t know. Maybe try and see if he would…” You purred, Nina leaning down quickly to grip your tit, licking your nipple and sighing at the feeling of the nub on her tongue. “I think Jeff would be sensitive… I would like that…” She cooed, rolling your perky nipples between her cool fingers and purring as you squirmed. She watched you closely, her hips slowly beginning to grind down against your crotch as she took your right tit in her mouth, sucking lazily. You tangled your fingers in her smooth hair, tugging lightly as she sucked and nibbled on your already sensitive flesh. She groaned, brows furrowing as she fought to stay sucking on your tit like a kitten. It was overwhelming, your skin hot and flushed as you squirmed under her. 

When she finally popped off for air, you took your chance and pushed her up, smashing your lips back against her as you tugged on her hoodie, tugging the purple fabric over her head and smiling when she whined. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, her bare skin and small tits exposed against her pale skin. You leaned forward, her hands pushing on your shoulders as you kissed her chest, pushing her back onto the sheets. Her dark room made her flushed skin look so pretty and supple under your kisses, her skin coming to life with goosebumps as you kissed down further. That stupid miniskirt was riding up, basically covering nothing as you tugged it down her thighs, tossing it to the floor as you spread her knees, her small whines making you blush. The purple and pink panties she wore matched nicely with her thigh-highs, her pale thighs shaking slightly as you smiled at her already evident arousal. “I think,” You cooed, unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs, your dark panties contrasting nicely with hers. “Jeff would enjoy eating you out… Getting you ready before he fucked you…” You grinned, running your thumb along the wet spot on her panties and making her whine behind her hands. She nodded slowly though, letting your hands press her knees apart as you tugged her panties down, careful to keep her thigh-highs rolled up. Your heart was thumping as you nestled between her thighs, Nina’s already dripping cunt pink and cute, just like her. Your own arousal was pounding between your legs, but as a good friend, you had to put her first.

Rubbing your fingers against her clit, you leaned in, teasing her entrance with your tongue. She was already a squirming mess, back arching and knees clasping together as you licked against her folds, tasting her sweet arousal. You rubbed her clit slowly as you dipped your tongue past her entrance, chasing that addicting taste of her. Nina moaned out, her hands tangling in your hair and tugging as you curled against her walls. Her arousal gushed against your tongue, your own pants mixing with her moans as you ate her out eagerly. You couldn’t think straight, Nina’s breathy pleas to go faster making your head spin. It wasn’t long before you were gripping her thighs, nails digging into her pale skin as you tongue-fucked Nina quickly. You moved quickly between flicking your tongue against her sweet clit and dipping past her tight folds back into her warm walls. Her taste was heavenly, your eyes squeezed shut as you begged your tongue to press further, doing anything to hear her sweet moans ring in your head. 

Her hips were bucking, your tongue curling sharply against her tight walls until you felt her cry out, warm arousal rushing against your tongue. You chased her orgasm, lapping up every sweet flavor that danced on your tongue until she was gripping her thighs tightly around your head. You refused to let up, even when her walls clamped so tight you had to move to her clit, you still licked long stripes, relishing in the way her hips bucked against the sensitivity. “[Y/N]! God- please-” She begged, pulling against your hair desperately. But only when you felt like you had tasted every inch of her did you let up, panting heavily as she whined. You slid up her body, wrapping your arm around her waist as you pressed your lips against hers, shoving your tongue into her warm mouth and begging her to taste how sweet she was. “Taste… so good, Nina…” You whined, grinding your clothed cunt down against hers. 

Nina sucked on your tongue, swirling hers into your mouth and swapping spit. You were both groaning, hands rubbing against each other’s bodies until your cunt desperately begged against your panties. You raised up, Nina whining as you let off her mouth but smiling when she saw you sliding your panties off your thighs and onto the floor. “I think…” She panted, tugging you closer to her. “That Jeff would want, uh, a blowjob, right? I think it’s time he got a little rough…” She smiled nervously, tugging you to straddle her face. You smiled eagerly, nodding your approval as you positioned your knees on either side of her head, spreading your throbbing cunt with your fingers and watching as Nina blushed wildly. She was quick to wrap her arms around your thighs and pull you down, shoving her warm tongue against your cunt. You groaned, her tongue sliding against your clit and flicking gently. She tried desperately to mimic your actions, sliding her tongue against your folds before pressing into your entrance, moaning at your taste. Sighing, you sat down further, letting Nina’s tongue lap at your sensitive walls until you were grinding down lowly, hands resting against your thighs to keep yourself steady. Nina was kneading your ass, her nails scratching against your skin as she delved deeper, curling her tongue the best she could. It was heaven, your clit throbbing hard as she moaned against you. 

As much as you would have liked to let her eat you out some more, you needed to feel her, bad. All sense of what Jeff would’ve wanted to be damned, you needed to feel her yourself. Pulling off of her tongue, she whined, chasing your thighs before you laid back against the bed, gripping her arms to straddle your waist. “Need you, Nina… I mean, Jeff- Ah, whatever. I need to feel you.” You groaned, Nina’s heavy eyes watching you carefully as you spread your legs, pushing her hips back until your folds slid against each other. When your clits bumped, Nina moaned, her hands reaching down to grip your tits, rolling the mounds in her hands. You gripped her hips tightly, tugging her hips to rub her sensitive cunt against yours. “Fu- Fuck me… [Y/N], please…” She ground her hips down, riding your cunt easily. You leaned your head back, watching through hooded eyes as Nina pulsed her hips, your clits rubbing against each other roughly until you were both squirming. 

If you had a cock, you’d pound the poor girl, leaving her breathless. But as she stuttered her hips against your soaked cunt, you couldn’t help but push your legs apart further, pressing your hips up against hers. You tugged her hips up off of you, nails gripping her pale skin until you pushed them back down quickly, repeating until you were bounding her hips against yours. Your clits slammed together quickly, both of you crying out at the sensitive impact. You felt her arousal dripping from her cunt, her soaked folds pressing against yours. “Gonna fuck your cute little cunt with mine- Gonna, ah, make you cum way harder than Jeff’s dumb cock could.” You gritted out, every time you pulled her hips down you quickly ground up against her clit, making her cry out. Nina’s fingers fiddled with your nipples, her jaw hanging open as sweet moans spilt from her lips. “Oh, yes- fuck! Make me cum!” She whined, clit bouncing on yours roughly. She was panting hard, her small tits bouncing cutely as she rode your cunt, chasing her orgasm. “Yeah? Go on, Nina. Come on me, let me feel it. Let Jeff know how good it feels.” You coaxed her, teeth gritted as you held her hips down, sensitive nubs rubbing roughly against one another. 

Nina’s eyes rolled hard, her back arching sharply until she was crying out. You felt her warm arousal spill down onto your cunt, her loud moans and whines enough to push you over yourself. Stuttering your hips against hers, you held her tight, arousal crashing into you roughly. You both whined loudly, your grip guiding her hips to slowly grind down against your clit, chasing your orgasm. 

When Nina finally collapsed on top of you, you both breathed heavily, chests heaving as sweat dripped down your cheeks. Nina’s face was flushed and hot, her heavy eyes laying next to yours as you stared at her, admiring her fucked-out expression. You wrapped your arms around her waist, sliding her off of you and to your side, hugging her tightly against your waist. Finally catching your breath, you pressed small kisses against her cheeks, her skin hot under your lips. She smiled softly, heavy eyes evident of her tiredness. You brushed her bangs from her face, tucking her messy hair behind her ear as she snuggled in close to your side, breathing deeply. 

“Get some sleep.” You whispered, pulling the messy sheets over the two of you as your sweaty bodies pressed close. You rubbed her back, sighing as you watched her bright eyes close. Maybe Nina was a hopeless romantic. But as her friend, her best friend, you were always willing to put her first. No matter what. 

-

Nina wouldn’t realize that you had slipped out of bed hours later, her soft snores making you smile as you redressed yourself. She also wouldn’t realize until she woke that Jeff was screaming in agony a couple of yards from the mansion, arguing with you to let him go. 

But when he returned to the mansion with a couple of broken fingers and a black eye, she wouldn’t have to guess who did it.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[createserenity]

Silliness and why it’s important

Crowley and Aziraphale are so silly and it’s something I really love about them and it’s something I think is really important to them because they can be silly with each other in a way they can’t with anyone else.

Both of them are silly – Aziraphale displays this side of himself much more readily and more often than Crowley does, but Crowley is silly too. Even present day Crowley who often seems to get labelled as dark and jaded and traumatised is actually still really quite silly.

Quick note - this post is part of a series which contains my opinions on Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship dynamics. I already wrote one on what they ask of each other (click to read it!). This one is silliness, by which I mean the funny things they do to amuse themselves and each other and also to a lesser extend the times when they are just a bit weird, because they are both slightly bonkers sometimes, for no other reason than they want to behave like that.

(By the way, if you make it to the end of this post without the word silly becoming, well, silly, then I applaud you!)

Why is being silly with each other important?

Can you imagine them being silly with any of the other demons or angels? There’s no way Aziraphale could display his silly side in heaven, the archangels are serious and wouldn’t understand the silliness, they’d just think Aziraphale was mad. Same for Crowley, the demons of hell just wouldn’t get it, they’d be scornful or dismissive at best, and also probably think he was mad (in fact we know they would because Aziraphale later utilises this idea when they body swap). In addition for both of them silliness around humans is something they can and do indulge in, but they don’t get a lot out of it because humans probably just think they’re a bit odd. Aziraphale for example isn't as socially unaware as he first appears, unless he’s playing a character (for example when he’s the magician or reporter), he tends towards being basically affable around humans, because that’s the sort of persona he wants to cultivate. Crowley generally wants to look suave so silliness around most humans is out for him too. It’s not that they are never silly around humans (see 1601 for just one example) but usually they aren’t. That leaves them with each other.

Crowley’s silliness

Taking them one at a time, let’s look at their silliness and what it says about them. I’m starting with Crowley because his is less obvious. Crowley doesn’t seem to be super silly at first glance. His silly streak is overshadowed by Aziraphale’s and also his tendency not to smile and be so overt whilst doing silly things. It’s partly why he looks like he’s lost a lot of his joy in life, but I’m not so sure that’s true. Crowley is optimistic and continues to be optimistic right up to season two – he also continues to be silly.

Let’s look at some examples of Crowley’s silliness through the ages:

Firstly angel Crowley is obviously a bit inclined towards the ridiculous – look at the weird and wonderful noises and faces he makes whilst creating the nebula. Aziraphale is utterly charmed (and so are we all).

Next another obvious one – Bildad the Shuite. This whole persona is just silly. From the odd facial hair to the weird things he does, Crowley is just having quite a lot of fun here. His ridiculous summarisation of the permit (“hugs and kiss, God”), more weird noises and faces as he fireballs the goats, his over-exaggerated setting everything aflame in the house (here some of his silliness is for a different purpose – to test Aziraphale’s trust in him), and then ending with his farcical cobbler/obstetrician doing a fake child-birth, complete with ridiculous over-acting for the benefit of the angels. For a lot of the Job incident Crowley is indulging his own silliness for a serious end.

After that we have to skip right to 1826 for the next bout of blatant silliness on Crowley’s part. For a start he’s ricocheting through Scottish accents, sometimes changing from one sentence to the next. He’s having fun with the persona he’s created for himself and he really doesn’t care who notices. He also banters with Aziraphale, Elspeth and Dr Dalrymple here in a way I really love, “bet you left your loom on your farm!”, “more murders, I’ll drink to that!”

There’s a lot of silliness in 1941 and I really don’t need to list it all – the middle name that’s just a J, the weird American accent, his very genuine laugh of delight at the snakes in a can trick, and more. This isn’t a demon that’s so jaded he isn’t still having fun.

So then we get to the modern day. There’s limited opportunities for super overt silliness because the situation is serious in both seasons, but there’s still some there:

In series one instead of miracling the guy with the paintball gun to sleep he literally turns himself into a monster and then declares “that was fun!” It’s ridiculous behaviour if you think about it, but Crowley enjoys himself.

The way he drinks the coffee in S2E1. Seriously. Why does no one talk about this? He gulps it down and then hisses/pulls a really stupid face. Maybe it gets overlooked because it’s sort of a bit sexy too, but honestly, it’s pure ridiculousness and he knows it.

From this point on Crowley’s silliness tends towards being more quiet silliness, rather than over the top silliness like Aziraphale’s is (with one notable exception). In the pub scene he orders the drink with a joke about Aziraphale, and then proceeds to intimidate Mr Brown in a not at all normal voice. He later asks Nina stupid questions about awnings and sudden rain – he must know these are silly questions from her perspective, but he does it anyway because he’s got a plan and he’s just a bit daft and doesn’t mind appearing weird around humans if need be. Later in the bookshop he throws the books around – honestly he could just place them down, he will know he’s being silly when he chucks them all over the place, but he does it anyway. In between this we have Muriel, which is a delightful moment of them both being a bit silly together at Muriel’s expense, except they’re both really quite kind about it as well. Then we get the exception - in the magic shop he dons a fez and messes about with a crystal ball – really do I need to say more about how obviously overtly silly this is?

I’m sure I’ve missed plenty of other examples as well (I've not even mentioned how silly the apology dance is!), these are just the ones I can think of right now.

So all this to say that Crowley is silly and most of his silliness is when he’s around Aziraphale. We as the audience don’t see Crowley being super silly very often, but we can extrapolate from what we do see that throughout the history we don’t see he must display his silly side to Aziraphale reasonably regularly. The biggest piece of evidence for the idea that Crowley is a lot sillier than we tend to see him is when we glimpse him through Aziraphale’s eyes. We know he sees Crowley as someone who does funny things and that this is something Crowley continues to do right up to the present day because when they body swap and Aziraphale takes his place in hell what are the two main characteristics of Crowley that he plays up? Sarcasm and silliness.

So what does Aziraphale think of Crowley’s silliness? Well, he doesn’t actually react much to it (see later for one reaction he does tend to give). He definitely seems to expect it though, he takes it as a given part of Crowley’s personality and I think we can safely assume he likes it, since he likes Crowley. Is Crowley aware of his own silly streak? Absolutely. How do we know? Again because of how Aziraphale sees him. The first thing he tells Crowley about on his return is how silly he was: “I asked them for a rubber duck!” and Crowley laughs along with him, delighting in the silliness of it all. This reaction is a tacit acceptance of what Aziraphale has done yep, that’s totally the sort of thing I would have done, angel, I know I’m sometimes silly like that and I’m delighted that you see that and that you are also silly.

Aziraphale’s silliness

Aziraphale’s silliness is so overt that I’m not even going to list examples of it. We all know how silly Aziraphale is, right? We’ve all seen his stupid behaviour in the magic shop and his daft attempts at speaking French because he’s somehow wiped his ability to speak proper French from his memory (anyone got a meta about how he’s achieved this because I don’t think it gets enough attention?)

Basically Aziraphale is quite often as mad as a box of frogs and Crowley adores him for it. Sometimes he teases him about it, but a lot of the time he doesn’t even do that, he just shakes his head a bit and looks at Aziraphale like he can’t believe what he’s hearing or seeing and like he thinks Aziraphale is absolutely insane. This is a massively important part of their relationship dynamic. Aziraphale is silly and Crowley fake rolls his eyes at him – it’s what they do.

Why is this so important? Well firstly Aziraphale’s silliness is something that he gives to Crowley. And he only gifts it to him after he starts to trust him – Aziraphale’s silliness is a symbol of trust and Crowley knows it. If you made a graph of their silliness around each other through time then Crowley’s would stay fairly consistent, maybe even drop off a bit, (as he gets more worried about their situation), but Aziraphale’s would be a massive upward curve probably starting sometime around the arrangement (which is around 1020AD according to the book). This is another reason Crowley falsely looks super morose and jaded by S2. At the beginning of their relationship Crowley is the only silly one and he’s overtly silly fairly often (and probably this continues in meetings we don’t see), whilst Aziraphale is anxious and serious a lot of the time (there’s no real silliness from Aziraphale during the Job incident) because he’s struggling with his own morals and his own place in relation to heaven and God’s will.

Over time though he starts to trust Crowley and once he does he unleashes the silliness and this becomes a basic part of his personality. For the audience 1601 is the first time we see this, but it’s clear by that point that Crowley knows he’s silly and isn’t surprised by it. Once Aziraphale starts being silly around Crowley he does it with increasing regularity and by the time the events of S2 come around he’s silly so often and so wildly ridiculous about it that it makes Crowley look serious and maudlin by comparison (even though he’s more-or-less maintained his original silly streak at least up to the point where he drinks the coffee).

The second reason this is so important is linked to the first. Sometime after Aziraphale starts being silly this becomes how they flirt without flirting. Aziraphale is silly and it delights and surprises Crowley (surprises in terms of he doesn’t know how Aziraphale is going to be silly today, he’s not surprised by the fact that he is silly).

We see this in 1601 with Aziraphale shouting inappropriately silly things to Hamlet and looking at Crowley whilst doing it. He’s offering Crowley his silliness as a sign of trust and something more, the subtext is, You know how to be silly, I’ve seen you be silly, I know you love silly things and I’m silly too. Crowley reacts with a look we will see from him a lot in the future, you’re being ridiculous angel. He knows it’s silly, he knows Aziraphale knows he’s silly and he knows why Aziraphale is doing it. He doesn’t laugh though because they’re already on their way to established roles in their relationship, Aziraphale is silly and Crowley rolls his eyes at it whilst secretly delighting in it (it works the opposite way too – see the fez scene where Aziraphale is the one who reacts, you can just see the start of a, “seriously, what are you doing, Crowley?” expression before the camera cuts away to Crowley’s mad moment).

The dynamic later evolves into more overt flirting. By the time Gabriel turns up Aziraphale is very definitely using his silliness to flirt. The car scene (which I’ve written more about in another post) is the most overt example of this. Crowley isn’t being walked all over here, he’s playing up to Aziraphale very obviously flirting to get his own way, and by doing so is encouraging him to keep doing it. Aziraphale starts the scene off being silly about the clue and “investigating” because he knows Crowley likes it, and then he ramps up the silliness with his voice and hand gestures the more Crowley reacts with grumpiness and refusal. That this is all an act becomes very obvious when it continues inside after Crowley has removed the plants from the car. Clearly the car borrowing is already happening at this point but Crowley continues to protest and Aziraphale continues to flirt over the issue, right up until Crowley playfully pulls the car keys away from him at the last second and turns the tables by indirectly flirting with Aziraphale via his conversation with Muriel.

One interesting question here is, do they even know they are flirting? And you know what, I’m not entirely sure. I doubt they’d describe it like that to an outsider, but what they do understand is the effect their actions have on the other one, particularly Aziraphale. He knows flirting-using-silliness is a good way to get his own way on minor issues and Crowley, possibly sub-consciously, but definitely willingly, falls into his role in that dynamic providing it’s something he feels he can give (see my other post for more on that).

So is Crowley jaded by life in season two?

Tricky one! I can see some evidence of it and I do think he’s drifting a bit aimlessly this season, with no real home, no direction and feeling generally a bit lost about his place in the world. But I also see him being quite silly, sarcastic and generally amusing throughout the season as well, and he’s definitely still enjoying Aziraphale’s silliness, right up until the ball when Aziraphale won’t listen to him because he’s too busy being giddy. Also though he literally shares a joke with Mrs Sandwich when he’s rescuing the humans from the demons and he laughs in delight when he finds out Aziraphale has blown up his halo. He’s fed up about some things, but he’s not so fed up that he’s completely lost his sparkle.

Why does Crowley seem different though? Well, Crowley, whilst definitely very much inhabiting the ‘thin dark duke’ persona in the present-day scenes, still retains a lot of his sense of humour, it’s just changed over the years. He’s more likely now to channel his silliness into sarcasm, which makes total sense – he tends to keep up with the modern world a lot more than Aziraphale does and he’s lived in Britain for a very long time and British humour is very inclined towards sarcasm, which is basically a more grown-up form of silliness. Crowley hasn’t become jaded, he’s adapted his humour to the modern British world, but also still retained some of his original inclination to just behave in bizarre and unpredictable ways (Coffee drinking! Fez wearing!) He also doesn’t need to be as silly himself now because he’s got Aziraphale, who is more than silly enough for the both of them, and Crowley loves him for it. “I say something brilliant, he says something unintentionally funny. It’s great!”

Conclusion?

Yes, sort of! The whole thing can basically be summarised by something @ineffabildaddy said in response to my previous post. “Aziraphale and Crowley don’t just love each other, they like each other, too.” They haven’t hung around each other for 6000 years and fallen in love against their will because it’s fate or some nonsense like that – they liked each other first. They’ve always liked each other from the moment they met as angels and they have grown to like each other more at every meeting since. They like each other’s personalities, conversation, sense of humour, silliness and so much more. These are the things that bind them together.

We the audience only see their big moments, times when something happens that pushes their relationship forward (1941) or changes their sense of who they are (Job). In S1 we see them face a huge challenge together and come out the other side. What we don’t see and so what we can sometimes forget as the audience is that there is a massive amount of time in their history where these things weren’t happening, where they just met up and had normal conversations and hung out because it was fun for them to spend time together. To spend 6000 years hanging out together and still be able to find the other person interesting and funny and just generally worth being around is pretty impressive and show just how strong their relationship really is. I hope that no matter how big and dark things get in season three that we at least get some chance to watch them be silly together some more, I think they deserve it after all they’ve been through!

[anylady-fics]

Radar | Lee Know x F Reader

Summary:

[...] “Me too. My roommate’s pretty chill and is out of the house most of the day.” “Are you sure it’s okay if I use his bed tonight?” “Unless you’d prefer using mine…” You smiled and tried to add a playful tone to what you said, secretly hoping he’d notice that you weren’t joking. Minho finished eating and set the cup and fork on the coffee table, then looked at you with a different smile—one filled with mischief, and something more. “Only if you'll be in it, too.” [...]

Or… you have a crush on your boxing tutor, and he likes you too. Hehe.

*** this work is for adult audiences. Minors DNI ***

TAGS: #smut fanfic #leeknow fanfic #straykids fanfic #porn with a bit plot #oneshot #minho is a boxing instructor

Warnings: smut, shameless smut, fingering, squirting, oral sex, rough sex, spanking (a little), crempie, unprotected sex (don't do it), a bit of cockwarming

6,405K words - cross posted on ao3

You have been taking boxing classes for a few months now, initially motivated by your interest in improving your fitness and health. However, what really kept you engaged in the classes was your instructor.

At the beginning, you tried hard not to stare, knowing that you were just another student among many who admired him. His class was full of women, which you noticed during your first week. Minho was very handsome, and it was impossible not to notice.

From the first class, you found yourself watching him a bit too much, captivated by his incredibly attractive lips and his sculpted face—delicate yet not too much so. The problem was that he didn’t seem to give anyone special attention; he appeared to be a very serious person, at least from your perspective. This only made your interest grow, as you relished the challenge.

You saw many women throwing themselves at him, but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest, at least not in front of others. You had no way of knowing if he met with any of them privately, as he seemed like a discreet type of guy, which only made you want him more.

You didn’t like to make a move without being fairly certain of success, so you were trying to understand him first—he wasn’t easy to read. You tried obvious things, like pretending you didn’t know something during training to see if he would turn the instruction into unnecessary physical contact, but it didn’t work. He didn’t touch anyone differently, even when women made advances.

Your last attempt was to switch to private lessons, and when you discussed it with him, the conversation was pleasant, though you struggled to hide your true intentions.

“So, do you still have any spots left for private lessons?”

“Yes, but only the late ones. Is it for you?”

“Yes, for me. That’s no problem. Could you please send me the price for three sessions a week?”

“Don’t you think that’s too much?”

“Oh no, I’m really focused.”

“No problem, then.” 

So there you were, getting ready for your first private session with him, feeling a bit nervous. The class was scheduled from 9 to 10 p.m., so you knew you’d wake up sore, but that didn’t bother you.The gym closed at 9 p.m., so it would be just the two of you there for the entire hour. You weren’t exactly sure how you’d make a move on him, or if you even had the nerve to do it, but having him all to yourself was a great start. Maybe you’d start by trying to get to know him a little better.

For a moment, the whole plan seemed really stupid in your head, you hadn’t even said it out loud. You didn’t even know if he was single, so you tried to convince yourself that you were doing this for the health benefits, not because of your lust.

You arrived a bit early, and he was finishing up a class with some random guy. You stood there and watched. The intensity level was much higher than you expected, and you even started to doubt if you could handle that three times a week, but you didn’t want to give up just yet.

When the class ended, they greeted each other, and the man left, leaving the room empty except for you and Minho.

“I’m gonna clean the tatami and grab some water. You can stretch if you want. I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and waited for him to clean it so you could use the tatami to do your stretching routine. You were still feeling a bit sore from the last training, but it was fine.

You were just wrapping your hands with the bandages when he came back and asked you to stop and wait. You didn’t quite understand, but you stopped anyway, trying hard not to stare as he got closer.

“Let me do that for you.”

“You don’t have to…”

“All of you do it wrong, and I’m kinda tired of trying to teach it, so I just do it myself when it’s only me and the person I’m training.” He smiled as he held your hand, and your heart skipped a beat—you had never seen him this close before. You followed his instructions, opening and closing your hands as he told you to.

“There we go, now you’ve learned, right?”

“I think so… let’s see if I can do it by myself.”

“Relax, I’ll do it for you again if you need it.”

Minho explained how the training would work: he’d be holding the pads while you threw punches, and occasionally he’d try to hit you so you could learn to dodge.

You started the first round and felt tired within the first two minutes. It was a lot to manage, dividing your attention between punching and defending. You were used to just repeating sequences, but switching to personal training was a thousand times harder—and much more fun.

You missed defending one of his strikes and took a hit to the ribs. The sound made Minho stop the round, and he looked really concerned.

“Did I hurt you? I’m really sorry…”

“It’s fine! I don’t mind the pain, I kinda like it…”

You realized what you’d said right after saying it and blushed a little, trying not to laugh. You noticed that he tried to hold back a smile too. He was totally different compared to how he acted during the group classes. He was much more talkative, relaxed, and kept giving you really useful tips.

You took a few more hits, but nothing that hurt too much. You had to assure him that you were fine, that something like this wouldn't knock you down.

"You did really well. Usually, someone from the group training can't handle the first full class."

"Thanks!" You felt a bit awkward with the compliment, since he never said anything like that during the group classes. "But now that I’ve done the first one, I’m really questioning if I’ll be able to handle it three times a week..."

"We can try. If it’s too much, we can cut back. But I think you’ve got it."

He winked at you. What was that? Normally, you would’ve taken it as flirting, but since it was him, you pretended it didn’t happen. He must have noticed you were a little thrown off. It was awful being so transparent.

“Do you live near here?”

“About a 5-minute walk, maybe…”

“Me too. Are you driving?”

“Not today…”

“Want a ride?”

There was probably nothing behind the offer, which was a shame, but you’d accept it anyway. You had every intention of hitting on him, but you started holding back because he seemed more approachable, and that felt strange to you. You weren’t ready for someone so different from what you were used to, though you were definitely enjoying it.

You closed up the gym together and got into his car. It was clean, smelled nice, like it had just been washed. You almost felt bad, sitting there being drenched in sweat.

“So, which way do you live?”

You briefly explained where you lived, and then found out Minho lived just two blocks away from you. You were pleased to realize you were geographically lucky too—you were practically neighbors.

“We could start running this route on the way back. What do you think? It’d be a good post-training routine.”

“I’m not sure I could handle running after class, Minho... but I’ll give it a try.”

“Alright then. See you in two days?”

“Yes! Good night, and thanks for the ride.”

You weren’t sure how to say goodbye. You felt too awkward to shake his hand, and a kiss on the cheek seemed a little too intimate. So, you just got out of the car without looking back, regretting not asking if he was single.

You trained together for almost three weeks, keeping up the crazy routine of running after class. You noticed how much your stamina had improved in such a short time—your reflexes, too, along with everything else. You could almost keep up with him in sparring, considering he was lowering his level for you, and you were even invited to advance to a higher belt level.

You two were getting closer. He was much easier to talk to during the one-on-one sessions, just the two of you.

“You’re different in personal training. I used to be a little scared to talk to you.”

“In the group, I have to divide my attention a lot. It’s more complicated. But scared, why?”

“I don’t know… you just seemed more serious.”

“Like I said, it’s a lot of people to focus on.”

“And a lot of people to turn down, too!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

The tone he used made it clear he was being sarcastic, along with the teasing smile on his face.

“Seriously, the girls are torturing themselves trying to get your attention. Nobody even knows if you’re single or not!”

“And you’re asking because you wanna know?”

“Yes, I’m curious.”

“And why haven’t you asked me before?”

“Because I thought it would be too invasive… but since we’re on the topic, are you single?”

“It’s just a simple question, nothing to worry about. And yes, I’m single. And you?”

“Me too. If I had a boyfriend, he probably wouldn’t like me training this late and getting rides from my instructor…”

“The ride was just that one time!”

“Even so…”

Your conversations were becoming more relaxed, and you allowed yourself to flirt a bit, hoping maybe he’d make the first move. From where you were standing, it seemed like the only thing missing was for someone to take that first step. But yes, you were too much of a coward to do it yourself because you were having fun with him, and you didn’t want things to get weird if he ended up rejecting you.

Another week of training passed, and on Friday, when you were closing up the gym, you both heard the sound of thunder, announcing an incoming storm. Neither of you had a car that day, so you thought you might have time to get home without getting soaked. But as soon as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the rain started, and it wasn’t light.

Minho grabbed your arm, opting not to stop, and the two of you ran through the rain until you reached your house. The storm got worse, with lightning and the rain pouring down harder, so you thought maybe he should wait a bit before heading home.

“Come inside. You can wait out the storm and then go home.”

At that moment, he didn’t question you, just came into your garage. Both of you were drenched in your workout clothes, and the sight you got was well worth the trouble of the rain. His thighs were perfect and muscular, and the way his shirt clung to his chest and abs left you very satisfied. And a bit nervous, too. He was way too hot.

You were fully aware that he was looking at you too. Your tank top was thin, and you were cold, with your nipples clearly visible through the fabric, your thighs outlined by your shorts, which were also tightly hugging your ass.

“You can come upstairs with me, I’ll grab some towels… we got soaked.”

“Damn, yeah. I hope I don’t get sick after this.”

You both climbed the stairs, and you felt a little crazy because you could sense Minho’s eyes on you, especially since you were walking ahead, imagining what kind of view he was getting from below.

He stopped in your living room, took off his shoes before stepping in, and seemed a little uncomfortable about getting the floor wet. You quickly grabbed two sets of towels and handed him one, because a single towel wouldn’t be enough. Your hair was dripping wet.

“Don’t worry about the floor…” You used one towel to dry your hair, and with the other you started drying your arms first. Since your clothes were soaked, you took off your shirt and remained in just your sports bra. It wasn’t anything new for him, you’d trained in just a bra before. “If you want, I can throw your clothes in the dryer. It’s still raining pretty hard... who knows when it’ll stop.”

“But what am I going to wear? Are you trying to get me naked without even offering dinner first?!”

“You could wear nothing, but I have a roommate who works at night and could lend you some clothes, you know?”

“Well, if that’s the case…” Minho decided to take off his shirt, and you watched as the fabric peeled off his skin in what felt like slow motion, revealing a part of his body that had been a mystery to you. He wasn’t ripped, but he was athletic, with big arms and well-defined shoulders. “Are you just going to keep staring? You’re making me embarrassed.”

“I’ll go get the clothes…”

Chris’s clothes would probably fit Minho well, they were about the same size. Just to be sure, you grabbed the biggest ones you could find.

When you came back to the living room, you found your instructor wearing nothing but his underwear, his soaked clothes piled on the floor, and he was wrapping a towel around his waist. You barely realized you had frozen in place from what you were seeing and had to make a very conscious effort to keep moving, feeling your nipples harden again, this time not from the cold.

“Here they are… the bathroom is down the hall if you want a hot shower. I’m not sure how much hot water we still have, though…”

“No need for all that, I don’t want to inconvenience you. If anyone should shower, it’s you. It’s your house.” He reached out to take the clothes while still drying himself with the other towel.

“I just don’t want to risk the water going cold again…”

You almost had a heart attack when lightning struck somewhere nearby, and in the next moment, all the streetlights went out, including the power in your house. It took you a few seconds to recover from the shock, and then you used your phone’s flashlight to grab the candles you had stashed for a moment like this.

“This rain really isn’t going to stop,” he said, heading toward the window, the towel still wrapped around his waist, the image of the outline in his underwear still in your mind.

“You can stay here if you want, my roommate won’t be back until late… I can let him know I’m lending his bed.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer. Thanks for this.”

You lit several candles around the house, most on the floor, some on the kitchen counter, and others in the living room. Afterward, you realized you needed to change your clothes because you were starting to get really cold. You excused yourself and went to your room with your phone’s flashlight.

You stripped completely and dried off thoroughly with the towel before putting on anything. You had your really hot instructor in your living room, the man you’d been wanting for a while now, so you decided to dress in a way that would catch his attention. You picked out a pair of short workout shorts that you usually wore at home and decided not to wear any underwear, letting the fabric show off as much as it could. To balance it out, you grabbed an oversized T-shirt but skipped the bra. It was too dark for him to see much anyway.

When you came back to the living room, he had neatly piled his clothes near the door. You picked them up to put them in the dryer, and then you noticed that he had taken off his underwear.

Your hot instructor was sitting on your couch, wearing loose clothes, no underwear. It felt like an opportunity falling from the sky, along with the relentless rain.

“So… do you want something to eat?”

“I don’t usually eat dinner, but if you have any fruit, I’ll take some.”

You opened the fridge and found two cups of fruit salad that you’d bought for yourself and your roommate. You grabbed both and handed one to Minho.

“How long have you been living here?”

“About six months… and you?”

“Three years or so. But I live alone. No roommates, had to kick the last one out.”

“Why?” You laughed, noticing how the candlelit atmosphere was perfect for your not-so-innocent intentions.

“Too noisy.”

“Do you prefer quiet?”

“Depends… but usually, yes.”

“Me too. My roommate’s pretty chill and is out of the house most of the day.”

“Are you sure it’s okay if I use his bed tonight?”

“Unless you’d prefer using mine…” You smiled and tried to add a playful tone to what you said, secretly hoping he’d notice that you weren’t joking.

Minho finished eating and set the cup and fork on the coffee table, then looked at you with a different smile—one filled with mischief, and something more.

“Only if you'll be in it, too.”

Success.

There was a pause for a few seconds where you both stared at each other, almost like you needed to make sure you were both serious. You moved at the same time, leaning in to kiss, and Minho quickly grabbed the back of your neck, giving you a taste of the grip you imagined he’d have.

The kiss was aggressive, intense, just as you thought it would be, and wow, you’d fantasized about this moment a lot. You let him take control, setting the pace you would follow, and you surrendered to it more and more. It didn’t take long before you were sitting on his lap, feeling his erection through his shorts, the friction creating a hot sensation on your clit, making your pussy throb and you moan heavily between kisses.

His hands slipped under your oversized shirt, sliding up your abdomen until they grabbed your tits, squeezing them while he bit your lower lip, then teasing your nipples with his thumbs, making them hard.

“Be honest…” He pulled off your shirt, his hands now resting on your bare waist. “How long have you been wanting this?”

“Since I first saw you… kinda.” You pulled his shirt off too, tossing it along with yours somewhere on the floor.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“I didn’t think I had a chance with you…” You rested your hands on his chest, feeling the muscles beneath your touch, savoring the warmth of his soft skin. “So, I waited to be sure. What about you? Are you just enjoying the opportunity, or was this something you wanted too?”

“I wanted it, but I also thought I didn’t stand a chance, since you never made a move.” His hands moved down to grab your ass, running his fingers over the fabric of your shorts, suddenly realizing something. “No underwear?”

“That’s a lie! I tried to get closer, but you’re so hard to read during class.” You ground against him, adjusting yourself better on his erection. “And yes, I’m not wearing any underwear.”

“It’s not quite like that… Fuck.” He pulled your hair again and kissed you. Your body pressed against his, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You stayed like that for a while, kissing and touching each other until you opened your eyes and realized the power had come back on. Much sooner than expected.

Minho stood up from the couch, lifting you in his arms as he carried you down the hallway. You wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed his neck, holding him tighter and pressing your breasts against his chest.

“Which one is your room?”

“Last door.”

You entered your room, and he laid you down on the bed, climbing on top of you and kissing you. His weight on top of yours felt really good. You spread your legs to let him settle between them, pulling him closer, trapping him against you. The lights were on, and you wanted to keep them that way because it would be worth it.

You squeezed his ass with both hands, making him push his erection between your legs while he trailed kisses down your neck, leaving wet trails that made you shiver. He bit you a few times, softly at first and then harder to leave a mark, and you gradually melted beneath him, feeling your pussy getting wetter from the friction between you.

He propped himself up on his knees so he could use his hands on you, trailing one down your body while his kisses and bites made their way to your tits. His fingers went straight for your shorts, where the fabric was already soaked.

“Would you have stayed this wet all night if I hadn’t said anything?”

“I probably would’ve made a move on you… eventually.”

His laughter against your skin gave you goosebumps, and he pressed deeper between your legs, making your shorts stick to your folds with a wet sound. He rubbed your clit over the thin fabric, making you moan and spread your legs wider, feeling frustrated by the clothes you were still wearing.

“How do you like it?” He added more pressure with his fingers, pushing the fabric of your shorts against your entrance, soaking everything even more. “I have a guess, but I want to be sure.”

“Looks like you guessed it right… I like it rough.” You remembered how he had pulled your hair, still feeling the slight sting on your scalp, just like the love bites he’d left on your neck and breasts.

His response was to pull off your shorts, making a point of showing you just how soaked the fabric was with your arousal. Minho spread your legs, grabbing your thighs and kissing the insides, slowly working his way toward the center, until he reached your mound. He breathed in your scent, covered your skin with kisses, and descended to your clit, where he started teasing with the tip of his tongue, barely touching you.

You tangled a hand in his still-damp hair, pushing the strands away from his face so you could watch him. He held your thighs open and immobile as he began eating you out, his tongue and lips doing an amazing work, while occasionally his nose would rub against your clit. The stimulation was intense, so you grabbed your breasts, pinching your nipples to heighten the sensation even more, as your legs tried to close every time he brought you close to orgasm.

You began to pull his hair and grind against his face, desperate to cum, when he decided to tease your entrance, slipping a finger inside and taunting you by pulling it out and pushing it back in.

You couldn’t take it anymore, your moans turning into whiny complaints, and he seemed to love leaving you this desperate.

“Not yet. When you cum, you're gonna make a mess for me.”

Your body relaxed as he moved his mouth away from your clit, ruining the orgasm you had built up after all that stimulation. You were frustrated, but he kept kissing, licking, sucking, and fingering you. Except, it wasn’t like he was doing it to make you come, but more for his own entertainment. He toyed with your arousal, stretching the wet string between your pussy and his fingers before savoring them. You had half a mind to push his head away and finish yourself off, but then he added another finger, using his thumb on your clit while kissing your thighs. You started grinding against his hand, seeking more friction, feeling that familiar tightness building in your core.

“You’re too eager…” He slowed his movements, leaving you frustrated again.

“I can’t take it anymore… I wanna cum.”

“Hmm…” He curled his fingers inside you, searching for a different texture until he found it and pressed, making you moan loudly. “But I need to tease you more, it’ll be better that way…”

He kept pressing on your G-spot while his thumb made torturously slow circles on your clit, which was now swollen and sensitive, craving more friction.

You weren’t sure what exactly he was planning, but you had an idea based on all the pressure he was applying inside you, varying the rhythm, driving you crazy as your sensitivity kept increasing. The wet sounds were getting louder, and you felt like you were leaking even more onto his hand, the sensation was much different from the usual.

“You’re ready… now I’ll give you what you want.” His thumb on your clit applied more pressure, and soon he switched to the other hand for more precision. “Don’t hold back, darling.”

The fingers inside you suddenly started moving roughly, hitting your G-spot over and over, a frantic rhythm that made your eyes roll back from the sheer pleasure, your whole body becoming useless as you felt something building up inside.

“That’s it, don’t hold it back… I want you to cum.”

It felt like you were going to explode, all the stimulation in just the right spots was wrecking you, your body twisting under his touch, feeling the pressure your body was trying to release. Your orgasm was close, your clit too sensitive, and yet you ground against his fingers even more as he kept fucking your pussy with the other hand.

You closed your eyes and did as he said, no matter how weird the sensation felt. Minho kept up the same rhythm and made you cum really hard, and as soon as he noticed you pushing his fingers out of your pussy, he pulled them away, and you felt the liquid gush out, dripping down to your ass and forming a puddle on the bed.

You wanted to scream because it was so intense, your whole body was shaking and you were almost crying from the pleasure. It was so different from what you were used to, and you never thought squirting like that was possible. Your legs trembled violently as the waves of pleasure washed over you, completely out of control of your body. He kept touching your clit without stopping, slapping it a few times to make you notice the huge mess you had made, the bed soaked beneath you.

“Hmm…” He bent down, spreading your legs again to lick your thighs, kissing your mound and clit while you thought you might pass out after that. “Hope you’re not too tired.”

You ended up laughing because you were absolutely wrecked, and you were still in the foreplay stage. The wait had been worth it.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to lift your body and check the damage to the bed, truly impressed by how much you had soaked everything.

“I should grab a towel next time, apparently.”

“Next time?” He moved closer to kiss you on the mouth, making you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. “You already have plans?”

“Of course, I’ve had plans for the first time for a while! After that, I’m obviously going to want more.”

“Good to know. Next time, I’ll take you to dinner first.”

Your body was starting to function again, so you managed to push him over and reverse your positions, ending up on top of him.

“Dinner? How sweet.”

You leaned in to kiss him, grinding your hips over his, rubbing against the bulge in his shorts, eager to finally see him without any clothes. You trailed kisses down to his neck, then to his chest, making sure to bite hard enough to leave a mark before licking and teasing his nipples, prompting him to bring his hands to your head, gathering your hair up so he could watch you as you worked your way down to his stomach.

You pulled off his shorts, freeing his erection and discarding the fabric, tossing it to the side. You loved seeing him naked on your bed, and as you crawled back up, caressing his legs, you took extra time to squeeze his thighs. Minho’s thighs were perfect, and if you weren’t so thirsty for him, you probably would’ve come just from grinding on one of them. Maybe you’d save that for later, or for the next round. You settled between his legs, sitting on your heels and scratching him lightly, admiring the red marks that immediately appeared. You trailed your hands up to grasp his cock, hypnotized by the precum dripping from the tip, the flushed tip, and the veins that you couldn’t wait to feel with your lips. You stroked him slowly, using both hands, already imagining how it would feel when he was inside you, the thought making you clench and wanting to touch yourself, but you held back.

His hands were still keeping your hair out of the way, so you licked your lips and licked his entire length, watching as he furrowed his brow and bit his lip, eyes locked on you.

He closed his eyes as you sucked on the tip, slowly taking his cock into your mouth, resting him on your tongue, making him sigh louder. Minho became much more vocal when you sucked harder, pushing your head down as you took more of him in, almost making him come. You squeezed his thighs and stopped, unable to bear how your arousal was dripping, desperate for something inside.

You mounted him, using his cock to rub against your folds and clit, mixing your juices with his as you ground against him, making it even messier.

“Condom?” he asked, making you realize you were both out of breath. “I only have some in my car.”

“And I might have one in my roommate’s room. But…” You kept grinding, feeling him leaking against you. “I’m on the pill, I’m clean… you?”

“Fuck… me too. But if you want, I can go grab one…” The way his hands gripped your thighs said otherwise. You lifted your hips slightly, positioning him at your entrance, spreading your pussy lips to guide him in, and started slowly sitting down.

You closed your eyes, balancing yourself by resting your hands on his chest, feeling the delicious sensation of your pussy being filled and stretched, your insides still sensitive from how he had teased you before. You rocked your hips side to side, slowly sinking further. You bit your lip to stifle your moans, but it became impossible when his hands grabbed your breasts, pinching your nipples roughly.

You found an angle that gave you even more pleasure and started riding him slowly, this time resting your hands on your thighs. His hands roamed your body, touching you everywhere, until one hand gripped your waist while the other moved between your legs, teasing you first with his thumb on your clit before spreading your lips and watching how you slid down his cock.

You varied the pace, focused on trying to come again, still more sensitive from the magic he had worked with his fingers earlier. Your body was already sweating, and you had dug your nails into his chest hard enough to hurt him, though he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

He placed his hands on your waist and pushed you to the side, lifting you off him just as you were about to come. You opened your mouth to protest, even muttering something in frustration, but he threw you onto the bed, lifting your legs against his chest before thrusting deep and hard into you, bringing you to the edge once more. Your hand flew to your clit, and you started rubbing yourself, the intense sensitivity sending shockwaves through you as he pounded into you, wrapping his arms around your legs, the loud sound of his thighs slapping against your ass filling the room.

The moment your orgasm hit, he spread your legs and buried himself deep inside, leaning forward and halting his movements, feeling how your pussy clenched around him, groaning along with you as he watched. Minho collapsed on top of you, sucking on your neck before kissing his way up to your mouth, as you felt the last waves of pleasure leaving you, all your senses overwhelmed as your body relaxed.

You were dizzy for the second time. Having your orgasm interrupted made it even more intense, and your whole body was tingling from his kisses. You scratched your hands down his back, wanting to leave him marked the same way he was doing to you.

Barely catching your breath, he was already moving again, but this time slowly, just feeling you. He bit your bottom lip, stopping once more, and pulled out of you. You were almost satisfied, your body heavy, feeling like dead weight on the bed because of him.

Minho lay down beside you and pulled you close, turning your body so your back was pressed to his chest, and he could enter you from the side. You arched your back to press your ass against his pelvis and lifted your leg, guiding his cock back inside. No matter how exhausted you were, you still wanted more. Hearing him moan so close to your ear made you moan with him, his voice so sexy it made you push your hips back even further. Only then did he start thrusting lazily, his hands exploring your body.

You let one arm slide beneath you, his hand finding your breast, gripping it while pulling you even closer. You closed your eyes, focusing on each sensation: his breath on your neck, his voice vibrating against your already tingling skin, your nipple being teased, the delicious sting of each thrust. It all had you on edge, making you want to come again.

“You seem recovered…” He licked your neck up to your ear, biting the lobe. “Or do you need more time?”

“I thought you were going to fuck me rough…”

Minho laughed against your skin, using his hand to push your leg down, making you close them. He slid his hand along the back of your thigh, and everything happened at once the moment he slapped your ass hard enough to make you scream. With the slap, he pulled you even tighter, his hand that had been on your breast now gripping your neck, pressing the sides. His thrusts became more intense, grabbing your waist to hold you still so you wouldn’t move every time he slammed into you.

The next few minutes were insane, so much that you almost asked him to stop because it was too much. You were sure you’d be sore afterward, but you knew you’d beg for more if you had to.

You could tell he was close to cum, Minho was gripping you too tightly, both on your neck and your waist. He must have realized you were almost passing out when he loosened his fingers but didn’t let go, just easing the pressure. He fucked you hard, groaning and grunting near your ear, turning you on even more with every touch, every sound. You moved your hand to his ass, wanting him to come, wanting him to go harder and deeper, even though it seemed impossible.

“I’m gonna cum… fuuuuuck…”

“Don’t pull out!” It was all you could manage to say before you started moaning from the animalistic rhythm of his thrusts, unable to stay still even though he was holding you so tight.

You moaned along with him as his groans got longer when he came inside, feeling how much he filled you, some of it leaking out even though he didn’t pull out, and only then did you feel truly satisfied.

Minho released your neck and took a deep breath, kissing your nape and stroking the skin on your waist and ass, likely leaving a handprint behind.

“Should I leave now? The rain lightened up.”

You were almost falling asleep, the exhaustion from the workout, the run, and the hot sex hitting you hard. You glanced back with your eyes nearly shut, reaching out to turn off the light and then pulling the blanket over both of you.

“If you get out of this bed, I’ll kick your ass. Let’s see how well you taught me.”

“As if you could ever beat me.”

He settled behind you, holding you tighter while still inside. You drifted off in seconds, and you think he did too. You woke up to sounds of someone else in the apartment, eyes wide open, remembering you hadn’t closed the bedroom door.

“Hey, why’s one of my shirts in the living room?”

Chris had come home and was heading toward your room. You panicked. Even though you were totally covered, Minho and you were both naked and your thigh was coated in his cum. The room smelled like sex, and you didn’t want your roommate to witness this, but there was no way of avoiding it. You couldn’t even move when you saw him standing in the doorway.

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I borrowed your shirt for my teacher…”

Minho sighed behind you, and you knew he was awake when he shifted his hips, rubbing his erection against your ass.

“Sorry, weren’t you in boxing class? What kind of class is this?”

“Get out, idiot. Close the door, please.”

“I hope you’ll wash the clothes later.”

You heard his footsteps fading down the hallway, took a deep breath, thoroughly embarrassed. You thought about going back to sleep, but apparently, Minho had other plans.

“I see you’re awake.”

“Sleeping with my dick inside you was great, I gotta say.”

“My roommate’s right next door, we can’t make noise…” You grinded against him, unsure if you could handle sex so soon because you were sore.

“Then we can wait until morning.”

“We can. But…” You reached for his cock, rubbing it against your folds and sliding it inside, the burn making you moan with discomfort. “Think you can sleep like this?”

“It’s cruel, but I can. It’ll keep me ready to fuck you later.”

“Better start thinking about that dinner.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of plans for you.”

[bloodywankers]

tw; yandere, psychopath vs sociopath yandere, not proofread, 445 words | navigation

We often describe yanderes as psychopaths but i'm here to argue that a sociopath yandere would be a lot worse. 

Psychopaths are a lot more cold, maybe because of their lack of understanding of human emotion but they have no trouble following concrete rules. A psychopath can easily pass as a functional member of society. Sure, the way they love (if even at all) will be very different from the average person but you could spend your entire life not knowing your partner is one. They may not understand why you’re upset, but at least they know you are upset. 

In contrast, a sociopath is a lot more irrational, impulsive and all. You could say their biggest flaw is their emotions, they know right from wrong. Unlike a psychopath who may follow rules despite not understanding the purpose behind them, sociopaths just dont care for them. They cannot live a normal life and they will make it your problem. They know hurting you is wrong, but, does it really matter? Especially when it brings them so much joy to see you beg at their feet? They’ll rationalise it one way or another. 

Psychopaths would be a lot more delusional but easier to manage because they are straightforward, do as they want and you should be fine, unless they benefit more from you being dead then alive. Maybe you’re about to reveal their true nature, that would be troublesome so they’re left with no other choice. It’s your own fault, really. They may come off as cruel but it's not intentional, their course of action is just the most rational thing to do in order to ensure their self preservation. 

Whereas, a sociopath would be more lucid in my opinion. They simply don’t care, as long as they have what they want but that in and of itself is impossible when you can’t figure out what it is that they want. Things are never so straightforward with them, not when one moment they are as kind as an angel and the next they look at you as if they’ll kill you any moment now. Their constant fits of anger and inconsistent behaviour make them hard to predict and that leads to your downfall. Behaviour that was perfectly fine to them before might suddenly become the root cause of an outburst and you’re the only one who comes out hurt from that.

Of course, I’m not saying these are the only two personality aspects possible, there are a lot more nuances to this but this is the impression I got from my minimal research into this topic. 

[lupinsweater]

omg the new remus fic was so cute! it’s funny cuz i also don’t seem latina unless asked people always clock that im not american but they can never place it!!! i would love to see how that relationship develops. specially since i love the headcanon that remus is welsh so mayb they can bond over strange accents lol!

love ya

-🦉

hi 🦉!! i also love the headcannon that remus is welsh🙂‍↕️ i did end up playing more into the werewolf thing this time, but i want to incorporate the accents more in the future! hope you enjoy this update!

part one

Remus Lupin x Latina!Reader 💌 1.1k words

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

You were only a few weeks into school, and you were already cramming for an exam.

The Hogwarts library was practically deserted at this hour- most students had long since abandoned the hush of the library for the warmth of their beds. You’d found a quiet corner near the back of the library, hoping if you stayed quiet enough that Madam Pince wouldn’t notice you were still there. Your copy of Advanced Potion Making was spread open on the table in front of you, an array of notes surrounding the textbook in a clutter.

You sighed, flipping another page and scribbling what you hoped were coherent notes onto the parchment beside you. The ingredients list on the particular potion you were studying was maddeningly long and confusing; the precise movements required and incantations were starting to blur together in your mind. You rubbed your eyes feebly, wishing you’d gotten an earlier start on your studying- this wasn’t the first time Potions had been a struggle for you, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“Still at it, I see?”

The voice startled you, and you looked up to see Remus standing near your table, a bundle of books tucked under his arm and his expression sympathetic.

“Unfortunately,” you replied, your tone only half-joking. “I think Potions is finally going to be the death of me this year.”

Remus chuckled quietly, moving towards the seat across from you and setting his books down. “Want some company? I can’t guarantee I’ll be much help, but I can guarantee that I’ll make sure Madam Pince doesn’t find us back here.”

“Please.” You hadn’t realized how tense you had gotten until he sat down. His presence immediately made you feel more at ease- a sensation like warm Butterbeer settling in your stomach washed over you. Remus fumbled through his bag for a moment before pulling out two Chocolate Frogs. He slid one across the table towards you, and you smiled gratefully as you unwrapped it.

“Thought you could use a pick-me-up,” was all he said, a small smile toying at the corner of his lips. He unwrapped his own, breaking off a small piece and eating it, careful not to get any chocolate on his book as he began reading.

For a while, the two of you studied in companionable silence, heads buried in your books. Every now and then, Remus would quietly correct a detail you were writing in your notes or point out the use of an ingredient, and you found yourself both relieved and oddly impressed by his insight. He never made you feel like you were stupid- the tone he used almost made you feel like he was pointing out things for his own benefit, too, and not to correct you. But as the time ticked on, you could feel your mind drifting somewhere it often did when you were studying. Every word on the page of your textbook felt like it was blurring together, and the frustration of not being able to understand better began to mix with something else- something you had never felt inclined to share before.

You let out a frustrated sigh without realizing, and Remus looked up from his book, his gaze soft and concerned. “You okay?”

You chewed on your lip nervously as you met his gaze, not quite sure how to respond. For once, though, you felt like you wouldn’t be judged for voicing what had been bothering you for a long time. “It’s just…well, I know this sounds silly, but do you ever feel like you don’t belong here?”

Remus closed his book, and seeing you had his full attention made you feel both at ease and more nervous at the same time. “What do you mean?” He said, looking at you with genuine curiosity.

“I don’t know,” you responded, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes. “Like…like you don’t quite fit. Not because of anything you’ve done, but because of who you are.”

Remus’ eyes softened with sudden understanding. “Yes,” he said, which surprised you enough that you looked up at him again. “I know exactly what you mean. It can be hard. There are things I don’t talk about, things I feel like I have to keep hidden because…well, I guess I worry that people would treat me differently if they knew. There’s this pressure to act like I don’t struggle with anything.” He paused, then added softly, “It’s exhausting.”

You nodded in understanding, the words spilling from your lips before you could think about it too much. “I know I push myself harder than I should. Sometimes…it just feels like I have to. Like if I don’t, people will assume things.” You trailed off for a moment before continuing in a softer voice, “I feel like I’m always being watched. I know people notice that I’m different- my accent, the way I speak to my family in Spanish, the way I pronounce things sometimes…It’s like no matter how hard I try, I stick out like a sore thumb.”

Remus nodded, looking down at his hands, as though he was debating saying something. “I know how it feels to be different. It seems easier just to hide those parts of yourself,” he started slowly. He looked back up at you with a small, sincere smile. “But I think the things that make you different, and the things that make you stand out- they’re what make you remarkable. Anyone who doesn’t see that is missing out.”

That Butterbeer warmth spread through your chest at his words, and you looked down at your book, suddenly shy. A smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks, Remus.”

“I mean it,” he said earnestly. “You shouldn’t have to prove anything to anyone. If they can’t see how much you belong here, that’s on them.” As your smile grew, he added, “And, for the record, I happen to think your accent makes you sound way smarter than the rest of us.”

You laughed, kicking at his foot under the table. “Right. Tell that to Professor Slughorn next time he has a hard time understanding me.” Remus laughed, too, his eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

“I think he just needs to work on his English,” Remus said, making you smile somehow wider. He smiled back, and you felt your cheeks flush as his gaze lingered on you before he opened his book again. You watched him from the corner of your eye as you returned to yours, too, the Potions exam somehow seeming less daunting than it ever had before.

[lindsey-laufeyson]

Distractions- Chapter 10

Distractions Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x FWB!Tom Hiddleston

Series Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst, friends with benefits

In all your years working in film, you couldn’t recall a single production that you weren’t looking forward to wrapping. And yet, here you were, the last week of filming, and you didn’t want it to end. Why would you? You’d never had this much fun on any other set before, the reason for which was currently in your bed, snoozing next to you. But it wasn’t just the fact that you were secretly sleeping with the star of the film, though that was a large part of it, you’d admit. 

Tom’s seemingly endless positivity as well as his intense passion for his craft was infectious. Practically everyone agreed that Tom was one of their favorite actors they’d ever worked with. So you knew that anyone you worked with going forward would pale in comparison. 

Your biggest concern, however, was how much time the two of you would be able to make for each other once you weren’t on the same schedule anymore. After all, you were both workaholics, not to mention Tom would have more opportunities to make other friends, so the possibility of the two of you drifting apart was very real.

“You okay?” Tom’s sleepy mumble pulled you from your thoughts. 

You turned onto your side to see that his eyes were still closed. “I’m fine,” you whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

He blearily opened one eye to look at you. “Your tossing and turning says otherwise.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No need to be sorry,” he replied with a yawn while he draped his arm over your waist and began lightly tracing patterns on your back. “What’s on your mind, Sweets?” Recently he began occasionally shortening ‘sweetheart’ to ‘Sweets,’ something you’d only heard him do with you.

You sighed, instantly feeling relaxed by his touch. “Just the fact that we’ll be wrapping soon.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned as he pulled you closer. “What on earth am I going to do without you putting your hands on me all day everyday?”

“I think you’ll survive,” you teased him. “I’ve got to give someone else a chance, haven’t I?”

He chuckled. “I haven’t even got my next project lined up and already you’re trying to pawn me off on someone else.”

“You were going to get bored of me eventually, Tommy. I’m only preparing for the inevitable.”

“How could I possibly get bored of you? There hasn’t been a single dull moment since this production started, for better or worse, and that’s largely because of you.”

“Well, unfortunately, it isn’t up to you or me whether we work together again or not.”

“I mean, I could potentially influence a director’s decision…”

“Absolutely not. You know the rules, Hiddleston. No professional favors.”

“Only joking, darling,” he defended. “But are you sure you’ll have time for me once you’ve started working on another film next week?” 

“Well, I’ve got to have some way to relieve tension after a long day, haven’t I?.” With a devilish grin, you leaned in and kissed him slowly and sensually.

“Unless you start a fling with one of your new clients,” he teased you once your lips parted.

Your mouth fell open in an incredulous gape. “I am nothing if not professional!” He gave you a skeptical look. “You are the rare exception.” When he opened his mouth to speak, you immediately added, “and if you mention Trevor, I will knee you in the dick!”

“I was simply going to say that I’m honored to be your rare exception.”

“Mhm. Sure you were.” You rolled your eyes. 

“So what exactly is bothering you then?”

You sighed. “Just anxious about starting a new job, I guess.”

He brushed your hair behind your ear and then slid his hand down your neck to your shoulder. “While I completely understand, I also know that you’ll adapt seamlessly to whatever is thrown at you. I mean, you had to deal with me of all people, so your next clients should be a breeze!”

“You know, you might be right. I’ve never met anyone who touches their hair and face more than you do.”

“Personally, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with liking to touch and be touched,” he said, dragging the back of his index finger lightly across the skin of your breast and over your nipple.

“No, I suppose there isn’t,” you replied with a smirk. You bit your lip while your hand traveled down to his half-hard cock. “And here I thought you were still sleepy.”

“Well, we have to find some way to tire you out, now don’t we?”

…

The week flew by, and before you knew it, you were getting ready for the wrap party. Given how the last party went, you and Tom had decided that this time, neither of you would flirt with anyone, and you’d politely shut down anyone who tried. 

You were just putting on your earrings when you heard Tom pull up to your house in his jag. You quickly grabbed your clutch and met him outside. 

He was leaning against his car when he saw you walking out in your navy blue sundress with a plunging neckline. He raised his eyebrows as he looked you up and down. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to go change.”

“What?” You looked down at your dress in confusion. “Why?”

“Because we agreed that we didn’t want anyone else flirting with either of us,” he began as he walked toward you. “And yet here you are looking absolutely irresistible.” 

You put your hands on your hips and smirked up at him as he approached you. “I’m sorry, but I get dressed up for me and no one else.”

“Well, if you won’t take that dress off then I guess I’ll just have to do it myself.” He gave you a sly smirk before taking your hand and leading you toward your house.

You giggled as you tried pulling him back toward the car. “Thomas William! We are going to be late!”

He let out an exasperated sigh and turned around to let you drag him to the car. “But that dress is coming off the moment we get back to my place tonight!” 

“Whatever you say, Tommy.” You winked at him as you got into the car.

…

When you arrived at the party, everyone was in good spirits, clearly excited to be finished with production. Tom, of course, was immediately summoned by several people to join them. He looked over at you as if he was torn between socializing and spending the whole night with you. 

“Go mingle,” you told him. “I’ll be at the bar with Kaitlyn.”

“Fine, but remember, darling,” he leaned in close and lowered his voice. “Tonight you're mine.”

It sent a shiver down your spine and heat to your core. “Oh really? Because I think you’ll find it’s the other way around,” you replied, and with a wink, you turned and headed to the bar, knowing he’d be watching you walk away.

“Well, don’t you look like a snack,” Kaitlyn said as you walked up to her. “Who are you hoping to go home with this time?”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “No one. I am not having a repeat of last time.” You sat down on the bar stool next to her. “Can’t I just look hot for the sake of looking hot?”

“Absolutely, you can!” Kaitlyn replied enthusiastically, raising her drink to you. “Though I do hope you’re prepared to be hit on at least once or twice tonight.” She giggled and took a sip. She was tipsy already.

“Then I hope whoever does is prepared for rejection.” You turned to the bartender who had just approached you. “Aperol Spritz, please?” 

“Are you certain there’s absolutely no one here who you’d spend the night with if he asked?” While taking another sip of her drink Kaitlyn raised her eyebrows while her eyes darted in the direction of where Tom was standing and then back to you. 

You scoffed. “Oh come off it, Kait. How many times do I have to tell you that we’re just friends.”

“As a person with the ability of sight,” she emphasized dramatically, “you cannot tell me you don’t want to climb that tree.”

That made you laugh. “Just because you fancy him doesn’t mean everyone else does too.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“You’re right, I am, because it’s a silly question.” Again, you turned to the bartender who handed you your drink. “Thank you so much.” Kaitlyn opened her mouth to speak but you stopped her. “Look, Kait, can we just drop it? I just want to have a fun last hurrah with everybody tonight, alright?”

“Fine,” she reluctantly agreed, like a child who’d just been told by their mum that they couldn’t have the candy bar they wanted.

…

After a couple of hours of socializing, swapping stories from on set, and occasional stolen glances between you and Tom, the pair of you ended up in the middle of a circular booth with Warren sat next to Tom, and Kaitlyn next to you.

“Ooh! Let’s play Truth or Dare!” Kaitlyn suggested excitedly.

“I dunno, Kait,” you hesitated. “Isn’t that game more for children and American frat boys? Not to mention we’re in public.”

“Oh come on! Live a little!” Warren chimed in. “Besides, if you don’t want to do something, all you have to do is finish your drink instead!”

You looked to Tom for back up. “Could be fun,” he shrugged. You raised your eyebrows at him, surprised he was on board with this idea. 

With a sigh, you conceded. “Alright, fine. But the minute it gets weird, I’m out.”

“Yay!” Kaitlyn cheered and clapped her hands. “Who wants to go first?” She looked eagerly around the booth. 

“I have one,” Warren said casually. “Tom, truth or dare?”

“I suppose. I’ll have to say dare,” Tom replied confidently.

“I dare you to deliver a toast to the whole room,” Warren began. 

Tom scoffed “Easy enough.”

Warren held a finger up, “But you must work the word ‘dildo’ into your speech.”

“I’m so glad we can play this game as mature adults,” you commented sarcastically. 

Tom thought about the challenge for only a few seconds before getting up to stand on his seat and deliver his toast, and it was magnificent. The entire room was captivated by the eloquence of his moving yet, at times, rather humorous speech. You even saw a few people tear up. The most impressive part to you, however, was how seamlessly he worked in his challenge word where you’d least expect it, and without anyone even batting an eye.

Warren stared at Tom in awe as he sat back down. “Are you just effortlessly good at everything?”

“Annoying, isn’t it?” you said, pointing your beer bottle in Warren’s direction. He nodded in agreement. 

Tom waved him off. “I’m rubbish at loads of things– maths being just one example– but the oral arts are kind of my specialty.”

While you almost choked on your beer and subtly kicked him under the table, Warren just laughed. “I‘ll bet they are!” 

Kaitlyn blushed. “Shall we continue our game?”

“Alright, Kait,” Tom said. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” she responded without missing a beat. “I have nothing to hide.”

“If you could go home with anyone in the club tonight, who would it be?”

Kaitlyn turned bright red, “Erm, on second thought…” and downed the rest of her drink.

The rest of you laughed and cheered her on as she chugged. Once she finished, you nudged her with your elbow. “Nothing to hide, huh?” You gave her a cheeky wink as she scowled at you. 

“Fine then,” she said, regaining her confidence and looking smugly at you. “Truth or dare?”

You smirked, knowing that if you said ‘truth,’ she’d ask you the same thing Tom had asked her, and you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss someone at this table.”

Warren and Tom both oohed scandalously, but you were unphased. Oh, innocent little Kaitlyn. You were willing to bet that she thought that Tom would be the clear choice, given that Warren was gay and you and Kaitlyn were both straight, but you were more than prepared to throw her for a loop. You looked round the table, as if you weren’t quite sure what you would do. Then, without warning, you kissed Kaitlyn full on the lips, being sure to show her what an amazing kisser you were, no matter who was on the receiving end. When you finally pulled away, she looked like a deer in headlights. You tipped your beer to her. “Ask and you shall receive, m’lady,” you boasted before taking a swig.

Tom and Warren both laughed, but you felt Tom’s hand briefly give your upper thigh a firm, lingering squeeze before retracting. Somehow you could tell that it wasn’t so much playful as it was possessive. It made you wet, and you weren’t wearing any panties. You crossed your legs and cleared your throat. 

“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” Kaitlyn asked in awe.

You smiled proudly. “Loads of experience, my dear.”

“I believe it’s your turn, darling,” Tom interjected with what almost sounded like irritation.

“Right. Kaitlyn, truth or dare?” 

Her expression turned from awe to indignation. “What? But no one’s had a go at Warren yet!”

“You’ll have no complaints from me!” Warren assured with a chuckle.

Kaitlyn huffed. “Fine. Dare.”

“I dare you to finish one of those abandoned, half empty drinks over there.” You pointed to the vacant table across the room. 

She looked at the drinks in question with a grimace, which quickly turned to a look of determination. Then she stood up and made for the abandoned table.

“Atta girl!” you encouraged her.

When she reached her destination, she casually leaned against the high top table while she scoped out her options. 

“She’s not going to do it,” Warren said.

“Oh have a little faith, will you?” you chided him.

Sure enough, Kaitlyn chose her chalice and downed it in one gulp, wincing as she swallowed. You all cheered as she walked back to the booth. When she sat back down, Tom reached across you to give her a high five. “Well done, Kait!” When he settled back down, he draped his arm across the back of the booth behind you and you could have sworn he’d moved a little closer to you. Smooth, you thought. 

And on you went with the game, telling juicy, innocuous truths and doing silly little dares until Kaitlyn decided to switch things up a bit.

“I have a dare for all of us!” Kaitlyn announced. “Though maybe it would be considered a truth… Not sure. Anyway! Let’s do a round of Fuck, Marry, Kill!”

“Who are our choices?” you asked.

She looked at you as if it were obvious. “The people at this table, silly!” You wondered if she’d gone from tipsy to drunk at this point.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Tom asked Kaitlyn.

“It’s all in good fun!” she replied. “And I already dared you all, so you play or you drink! I’ll go first.” She looked around the table as she contemplated her answer. “Well, if that kiss was any indication, I think I’d fuck Y/n, marry Tom– because I think he would make the cutest hubby–” Yeah, she was drunk. “And kill Warren because I can’t fuck him or marry him, no offense.”

“None taken,” Warren replied.

“Who’s next?” Kaitlyn asked excitedly.

You sighed dramatically, “If I must.” You proceeded with the first thought that popped into your head. “Fuck Tom– because why not–” you began, hoping to sound as flippant as you intended. “–marry Warren so we can fuck whoever we like with no complicated feelings–” You and Warren high-fived. “–and kill Kaitlyn for making us play this horrid game.” 

“You bitch!” Kaitlyn gasped playfully.

Tom raised his hand slightly. “I’ll go next, if I may.” Suddenly you found yourself very curious and a bit anxious for his answer. “Between the three of you, I’d have to say, Fuck Warren– could be fun,” he added with a wink.

“Yes, Daddy!” Warren responded seductively. 

Tom chuckled as he continued. “Marry Y/n– because she’s my best friend, obviously– and kill Kaitlyn.” He turned to her. “Sorry love, but you were the only one left.”

While Kaitlyn looked thoroughly disappointed, you and Tom just laughed, though you felt something in your stomach that you couldn’t quite place. Meanwhile Tom’s ears, cheeks, and chest were bright red. Was he embarrassed? Whatever it was, it was pretty damn adorable.

“I guess that leaves me,” Warren said, pulling you away from your thoughts. “I mean, obviously I’d fuck Tom, but then I’m out, because whether I marry Y/n or kill her, Tom would kill me either way.”

Tom laughed. “Oh, I would absolutely kill you if you killed Y/n, but why do you think I’d kill you if you married her?”

Warren looked skeptical. “Are you saying you wouldn’t?”

“Not at all,” Tom replied, only semi-convincingly. “In fact, I’d give you my blessing.”

“Looks like we have a wedding to plan,” you joked as you raised your beer bottle. “To me and Warren!” Tom and Warren joined in your toast, while Kaitlyn still sulked.

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that all three of you said you’d kill me?” she interjected. 

You put your arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Aw, darling, you know we all love you. It’s just a game! One you made us play, I might add.”

“Can we just go back to Truth or Dare?” she pleaded. 

“Alright,” you conceded. The two men groaned. “But just one more.”

Kaitlyn immediately perked up. “I have one for you and Tom, actually.” Uh oh. “Truth or dare?”

At this point you didn’t know which would be worse. “Dare? I guess?” You looked at Tom for confirmation and he sheepishly shrugged. Then you looked back at Kaitlyn, wincing in anticipation for what was to come.

A devious smile stretched across her face. “I dare you to kiss each other.”

“Must you be so adolescent?” you complained, though, admittedly, you kind of saw this coming.

Before she could respond, Tom swiftly grabbed your face and kissed you hard on the lips. Your eyes went wide as soon as your lips made contact, but you quickly melted into it. Well, if you were going to do it, you might as well make the most of it and give everyone a good show. You climbed on his lap, his hands moving to your waist, and the two of you continued to snog shamelessly. All the while, not only were Kaitlyn and Warren clapping and cheering, but you realized the entire crew had stopped what they were doing and joined in the applause with various whoops and wolf whistles. Some shouting “Fucking finally!” while others gave you the classic “Get a room!” Without missing a beat, you and Tom both flipped everyone off without even coming up for air. 

When your lips finally parted, you did so with an exaggerated bravado, before turning to Kaitlyn. “There,” Tom said between panting breaths. “Happy now?”

She let out a squeal that made you and Tom flinch. “Are you kidding? You guys are the most adorable couple I’ve ever seen!” 

You let out an irritated sigh. “Yeah. Not a couple.” You looked down at Tom. “And I think that’s our cue to leave. Shall we?” 

“Right behind you,” Tom said as you climbed off his lap.

“Noooo,” Kaitlynn whined. “You can’t leave now!” 

You gave her a commiserative look. “Sorry, Kait. This was loads of fun, but I’m tired.” She folded her arms and pouted. “Make sure she gets home safe, yeah?” you told Warren before you and Tom made your way toward the door. 

“Oi!”  Warren called as he caught up to you. You and Tom turned around. “So how long have you two been shagging then?”

You both feigned confusion. “What? Pfft. That’s just… we totally aren’t…” you both stammered incoherently before quickly giving up. “Since the beginning of production,” you admitted in defeat. 

“I knew it!”

This time your confusion was genuine. “How?”

“My ex and I used to kiss the way you lot just did.”

You and Tom shook your heads. “Like Y/n told Kaitlyn, we’re not a couple,” Tom explained.

Warren chuckled. “A couple of idiots, more like,” he said, almost to himself. “Have a goodnight you two!” And with a wave he turned and walked back over to Kaitlyn.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” you wondered aloud as you watched Warren walk away..

“I don’t know,” Tom replied. “But I’ve had a semi since you got off my lap, so I’d really like to get back to mine so we can finish what we started.”

You snickered and gave him a playful shove before quickly walking out the door with him at your heels.

…

During the entire drive to Tom’s place he kept his hand on your thigh, like he needed to be touching you at all times, staking his claim. It was only making the heat in your core worse, and you found yourself getting wetter by the second. Finally, when you arrived in Tom’s garage you went to open your door, eager to get in the house, but Tom stopped you. 

“Stay right there, darling,” he told you. He got out of the car and walked around to your side to open your door for you, holding your hand to help you get out and stand up. As soon as you were standing and the door was shut behind you, his fingers tangled into your hair, bringing his lips to yours in a feverish kiss. You both sighed and whimpered, desperate to satiate the hunger you’d felt for each other all day. He pressed your back up against the car in an attempt to deepen the kiss, his fingers digging into your hips. “You won’t believe how many men I caught staring at you tonight,” he panted between kisses. “It was infuriating.” 

“Is that why you did Kaitlyn’s silly dare and kissed me in front of everyone?” you asked as he began kissing your neck. 

“I had to show all of them who you belonged to tonight now didn’t I?” He lifted his head and smirked at you while he slipped one hand under your dress, his fingers grazing against your slick inner thighs until they found your naked slit, dripping with arousal. He tilted his head as his mouth fell open and his jaw jutted forward. “Had I known you weren’t wearing any panties, we would have left the party hours ago.”

You felt his middle finger glide through your folds and ghost over your clit, ushering a gasp from your lungs. Then you smiled. “And spoil the surprise? I think it was far more satisfying this way.”

Suddenly he crashed his lips against yours, your tongues tangling frantically. Reaching down between your bodies, you clamored to free his cock from his slacks. Once you’d done so, you slipped your hand in his pocket and pulled out the condom, effortlessly tearing it open and rolling it on without even looking. Tom then grabbed your legs and hoisted them up, hitching them over his hips before thrusting into you. The sound of panting, grunting, and moaning filled the garage as he rolled his hips relentlessly into yours. Your fingernails clawed at the back of his shirt, while he gripped your ass with one hand and fondled your breast with the other. Your moans grew louder with every thrust, his length gliding in and out of you at an angle that felt so incredible, it quickly sent you over the edge. He pressed his forehead to yours and gave a few final thrusts as you both came at the same time, gasping and moaning in time with each other.

After he stilled, you both stayed there for a moment, nothing but the sounds of your heavy breaths lingered in the air. Finally, he gently let your feet touch the floor again before resting his hands on your waist and lightly rubbing the tip of his nose across your cheekbone and temple. 

“I thought you said my dress would come off the moment we came back to your place,” you said, still catching your breath.

“Well, technically, we’ve not gone in the house yet,” he countered. “And I couldn’t have possibly waited another second before I had to have you.”

“That’s rather fortunate, because neither could I.” You giggled as he kissed you again, this time more slow and sensual. When the kiss ended he looked a bit dazed. 

“Now off you pop to the bedroom, Sweets. I’m nowhere near done with you.”

Taglist: @chronicallybubbly, @the-princess-of-loki, @princess-ofthe-pages, @darcylikesloki, @kikster606, @foxherder

[alaskasmonsters]

𝖕𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖕𝖎𝖌𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖘 (michael kaiser)

pairing: michael kaiser x gn!reader

contents: playful insults, teasing, mistaking attraction for hatred, foreign language (french), enemies to lovers (hinted)

w/c: 1.842

summary: when you accompany your friend noel to blue lock you did not consider that kaiser, aka the bastard’s most infamous asshole, would be there, too. luckily your favourite pastime activity was throwing french insults into his face that no one but noel could understand.

a/n: this is based on a request i got :) this isn’t really love-hate and more another ‘attraction mistaken for hatred’ buuut if you’re all nice i’ll make a second part about when they move into the love-hate stage :) also can i just note how eVIL it is to ask a german person to write about the fRENCH. we are natural enemies yall 😔😔 we meet behind a denny’s to fistfight (and kiss) whaat who said that?!?! anyways i did love this prompt despite not being able to speak french. i was able to ask my friend to give me some phrases, their credentials are *checks papers* mediocre school french 👍🏻👍🏻 so let’s just hope my friend can be trusted, if not hope kaiser being hot makes up for it! (also french people <3 if you wanna correct my french pls do 🙏🙏)

You grumbled to yourself, regarding Kaiser with a glare. Not one he could notice since he was currently standing with his back turned towards you, conversing with Ness.

“Blaireau,” you muttered under your breath, eyes narrowing at the boy.

Noel, who was sitting next to you, let out a sigh but didn’t even raise his gaze from his clipboard to regard you with one of his typical deadpan looks.

You guessed it wasn’t necessary, he knew you well enough to know you were sitting there with a frown edged into your features and your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“So you’ve started doing it even when he’s not close enough to hear you,” he asked you.

“Pardon me?”

“Muttering insults in french. I thought you were doing it to infuriate him but I am sure you know he cannot hear you from this distance.” To emphasise his statement he lifted his hand to point towards Kaiser, who was standing several feet away fem the two of you, before returning the pen he was holding to the paper, scribbling down another number.

You wondered how Noel made sense of it all. Keeping track of the stats of all the new team additions and transferring these numbers into percentages. What those percentages exactly meant you were unsure about. All you knew was that your friend spent a lot of time on them.

You sighed, trying your best not to glare at Kaiser again as you turned to look towards him. You failed.

“Infuriating him is only an added benefit. I do enjoy just insulting him for the sake of it.”

“I see.” Although Noel sounded unimpressed you could tell he would lose his patience with this little thing you and Kaiser had going on, sooner or later.

Especially if it would end up distracting the boy from soccer, not that you thought that was ever possible. Kaiser would rather ignore you for the rest of his life than endanger his soccer career.

You turned towards Noel again and let out a dramatic sigh. Time to make this predicament you were in known to him once more.

“Noel, i need you to look me in the eyes and tell me Kaiser isn’t one of the most annoying assholes you’ve ever met.” You challenged him, lowering your voice as to not catch the attention of any of the boys standing nearby.

The corner of Noel’s lips twitched up at your frustrated tone. Almost like he didn’t take you seriously. You frowned. Rude. This matter was dead serious.

“He doesn’t know how to behave. I trust you to be the mature one. Unless you want me to get you thrown out of this building. You’re only here because i consider you a dear friend, don’t forget that.”

You gasped, offended at the insinuation he’d be willing to throw you out, his best friend, in favour of keeping Kaiser’s ego intact. It was true that you were only allowed to accompany him to ‘Blue Lock’ because he had requested your presence, seeing as you were his best friend. You needed to emphasise that because ‘dear friend’? Yeah right. He wouldn’t know what to do without you. He’d certainly lose his mind.

“You wouldn't. You need me. My presence is precious to you,” you insisted, digging your finger into his arm, not unkindly. “But okay, I promise to behave since Kaiser is clearly not able to.”

You thought offering this was extremely kind of you since it was Kaiser who needed to learn some manners, not you. You were extremely well behaved.

“Aww you’re quite obsessed with me, aren’t you, darling?”

Your blood turned cold. When you turned your head back forward you were met with the sight of none other than Michael Kaiser standing only three feet in front of you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Casse-toi, Kaiser.” You cursed before you were able to stop yourself.

Kaiser’s grin grew. Noel let out a sigh next to you.

“You promised,” He reminded you and looked up from the clipboard to regard you with a pointed look. “Please, Y/n.”

“It’s not my fault. He’s started it!” You gasped, pointing at Kaiser childishly.

He laughed, waving his hand.

“I just came to say hello after hearing my name come out of your mouth so often. I was afraid you’d wither away without my attention.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, his innocent smile fooling no one.

Your jaw ticked and before you knew it you had risen to your feet and stomped forward to close the remaining distance between you two to start cursing him out in french.

To your growing anger Kaiser took it in stride, cocking his head at you and listening with interest as you threw insult after insult at his head before Noel apparently had enough of you. He grabbed your wrist and yanked you back telling you to sit back down and ignore Kaiser. He sounded exhausted.

Easier said than done. Kaiser’s whole nature demanded attention. It was impossible to ignore him. But you had promised Noa you’d behave, so you guessed you should at least try.

“T’es chiant!” you snapped at Kaiser, seeing this as the end of your fight, before you let Noel pull you down into the seat.

Noel gave you another pointed look before his gaze shifted back to Kaiser who was watching your interaction with amusement though there was a dark edge to his gaze that wasn’t there before.

“You’re not done with your training, yet, are you?” Noel asked Kaiser

The boy grinned and gave a halfhearted shrug.

“I’m taking a break.”

“Take it somewhere else,” you bit out, feeling Noel’s disapproving glare burn into the side of your face.

You were trying!

“I prefer your lovely company over the one of the common folk,” Kaiser replied easily, waving his hand in the general direction of where you saw the boys of the ‘Blue Lock’ project talk.

Kaiser didn’t like them much, especially Isagi, who has already declared war on him in a very dramatic way that had you questioned the boy’s mental health. Like really, was the boy okay? Talking about devouring people and ruining their life and all.

At least Isagi managed to infuriate Kaiser in a way that no one else was able to. Of course, this meant that you did like Isagi if only because he actually managed to get under the boy’s skin. Unlike you. Kaiser never seemed impressed when you threw french insults into his face, no, it was the complete opposite. He seemed to love it. He seemed to bash in your attention. This only made you angrier.

Entitled jerk.

Maybe you’d just have to take your ‘lovely company’ to Isagi and his friends the next time you saw Kaiser coming your way. That would keep him away.

“They’re not common folk and you’re not an emperor, Kaiser, at best you’re the roi des cons,” you fired back, regarding him with an unamused look.

Nowl let out another sigh, though you thought it was quite a clever word of play. He just didn’t know how to appreciate it or you for the matter.

Kaiser hummed, taking a few steps forward and lowering his head. His gaze was intense as he fixed yours behind the curtains of his hair that fell into his face. Your heart beat wildly in your chest at the sudden air of seriousness surrounding him.

“Is that a new petname, my love? How precious.” His voice was low and smooth and it took you a second to process his words.

When you did you felt your cheeks explode in heat and you had half a mind to jump up and wrestle Kaiser to the ground if it wasn’t for Noel’s hand grabbing the back of your jacket and pulling you down again.

“Stop provoking them and go back to your training, Kaiser.”

Kaiser just snickered, eyes twinkling with mirth as he took in your red face and the snarl on your lips.

“Don’t miss me too much, i’ll be back in a bit,” he mocked with a grin that reached his eyes but still didn’t look genuine.

He turned around to walk away.

“Va te faire enculer!” You called after him but he just laughed and waved his hand at you without turning back.

You huffed and sunk back in your seat, arms crossed in front of your chest as you pouted. You fucking hated that guy.

Noa watched you quietly for a moment before he shook his head and moved to stand up, pushing his clipboard into your hands for you to hold.

“Your taste in men is horrible,” he told you as nonchalantly as one would discuss the weather before shrugging out of his tracksuit jacket and throwing it on the chair he’s been sitting in.

You shot up, shrieking. “Excuse me?”

A few boys close-by turned to stare at you and you ducked your head in embarrassment at your out-lash but you couldn’t believe the words that had just left your friend’s mouth.

“Kaiser is bad news. You can do better than him.”

You gasped at him, cheeks burning from embarrassment. Where did that just come from? Was he seriously insinuating that you? And Kaiser?

“I’m not- You’re- I-” You stuttered, your heart racing in your chest.

This was- You couldn’t believe this!

Noel rolled his eyes and gently pried the clipboard out of your eyes, levelling you with a calm look.

“If you want to deny it, go ahead. But either way stop pulling Kaiser’s metaphorical pigtails already, it’s exhausting.”

He gave you a gentle clap on the shoulder and a small smile, before walking off towards the direction of the ‘Blue Lock’ boys. You stared after him, your face hot and your mouth agape.

You weren’t-

You and Kaiser? That was ridiculous. Absolutely impossible. You would never, not in a billion years, be attracted to him. He was such an asshole. A complete jerk. Completely infuriating. Why would Noel even think that?

You huffed again, shoulders bunching up as you tried to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

Noel had no idea what he was talking about. What did he even know about romance? Nothing. That’s right!

You lifted your gaze and- You froze when your eyes locked with Kaiser’s. He was standing on the other end of the field, football secured under his arm. He was watching you intensely. From this far away it was hard to make out the look in his eyes but you felt a shiver rake down your spine and the itch on your tongue.

You gave him the middle finger, biting your tongue to not throw another insult his way as you would have had to shout it over the whole field. When the boy did nothing but laugh and blow you a kiss, you quickly turned away. The heat in your cheeks never fading.

Noel was wrong. You did not have a crush on Kaiser. You did not.

Not even a little.

translations:

Blaireau — Asshole

Casse-toi — Fuck off

T’es chiant — You’re annoying

Roi des cons — Complete idiot/King of idiots

Va te faire enculer — Go fuck yourself

[insert-something-funy-here]

MUEHEHEHE >:)

CHAT IT'S SILLIES TIME!!!!

For those who didn't see before I deleted it, sometime ago, I made a post about an idea for an AU I have where Biograft is sentient enough for Medkit leaving Blackrock to affect him (and on top of that, that's how he discovers his own sentience). I spent a couple hours writing cus I got inspired! Biograft doesn't yet realize he's sentient, so I think (if people like thus enough) I'll make a pt2 to this cus I have ideas for where this could go!! (Tbh, I'll probably do it regardless of if people like it or not, but still!!!)

An error. A simple miscalculation. Making breakfast for two, when there was only one here who could eat. Opening the door to an empty, and uncharacteristically tidy, room. No phighter for me to wake. Green flowers at the bedside now wilting from missing… from his absence. It was odd how he would “heal,” them every other morning. I don't have such an ability, being created for the opposite of healing. Most iterations of me anyway.

I should throw those away before they begin to rot. It’s been a week now. Or I could leave them. Perhaps after such long-term exposure to his crystal, they will last longer regular flowers. That’s all this is, testing a hypothesis. I can leave them a little longer, just to see the results.

New connections have started forming in my programming. One of me was out collecting materials for Subspace, and I saw those flowers again. When I saw them, what came to mind wasn’t any data about it, not its place of origin, ideal habitat, or its potential uses, but the memory of seeing Medkit reverse the effects of time on the ones he kept. Yet another odd error.

I asked Subspace to help me troubleshoot these recent errors. We came to the same conclusion of there being something in my software. He checked, said that my algorithms had been evolving rapidly and creating a new type of data, which could have been overwhelming the system and causing these errors. But what caused that spike in complexity? The only thing to have changed recently outside of myself is that his presence is no longer here. Subspace hasn’t given me any new updates, and such drastic change has never happened without Subspace’s intervention before. There is no reason for me to have change unless my creator requests it or it is within his benefit for me to do so on my own time. This isn’t benefiting anyone, so why is it happening? And why didn’t Subspace fix me?

He said even though he himself had no idea of the catalyst of these changes, with refinement, they gave the opportunity to lead a wonderful new breakthrough in regards to creating and manipulating life. Yet I find myself still unable to understand, which only in turn creates further lack of understanding. How am I unable to see what it is my creator wants from me? Why don’t I understand the results he wishes for?

Why do I ask and hesitate now instead of proceeding onward as I always have?

What makes life?

The definition I was programmed with was, “the condition that distinguishes animals and plants from inorganic matter, including the capacity for growth, reproduction, functional activity, and continual change preceding death.”

Am I alive?

I fit 2.5 of the important descriptors. I have the capacity for artificial change and growth (but it is not continual) and functional activity. I have the ability to die. To its simplest point, is living not just the absence of death?

Perhaps I mean to ask if I have sentience?

Is there a difference between chemical and code if they both have the potential to react irrationally to stimulus, be it internal or external?

Could this metal exterior be made metaphorical flesh?

One of me was out at the Crossroads today. I saw him, yet I did not attack. He is a wanted traitor, and I had the opportunity to pursue him, yet I didn’t. He saw me, and he didn’t run, even though he should have.

When I saw him, I thought of those flowers again. It’s been a month now. They’ve dried out but haven’t rotted yet. I should’ve thrown those away the same way I should’ve gone after him, without hesitation.

For some reason, part of me wanted to follow him, not to bring him back, but to see how he is now. Perhaps he would be able to explain why I’ve changed. What a strange hypothesis. Perhaps one worth further investigation.

It’s happened a few more times now. It’s been 4 months since his leave. Every time I see him, I act as though I haven't. I believe he’s caught on that I do it on purpose. I don’t know why I have this inability to approach him first. I think this “test” ends here. How unsatisfactory, with no results to show for it.

Is this cowardice? I think I better understand the concept outside of its definition now.

He stopped me as I went to leave this time. He pulled me aside into a nearby alley. Why? We stared at one another in an uncomfortable silence. Could silence be comfortable?

He asked me what I was doing. I asked him to clarify. He asked why I hadn’t been trying to go after him whenever Subspace wasn't around. I had no response. I moved on and told him something within me changed, but I couldn’t figure out what. He seemed confused but told me to continue. I told him about the errors, some of my questions, and about the flowers.

Something in the way he looked at me changed. He understood something about me that I did not. I couldn’t recognize what it was he held towards me with his gaze, but he stepped closer, and I let him

Innocent hands, covered in blood, not mine or its own, that wished to hold onto me. Sorrow grips us both.

I flew away to a false sky before my wings could be fully clipped, but left you, a fish in a bird cage. I can't take you to the water, but let me bring you drops of the sea.

“Even you need to rest and grieve… I missed you too.”

New ideas I had yet to understand.

I felt his arms wrap around me and an intense sensation rushed through me, it wore at me, as the waves do to a coastline, until I was left with nothing but the soothing sounds of the ocean.

[fuck-customers]

So I have gotten a new job with slightly higher pay but full benefits (yay!) and it reminded me of something that happened while I was bellyaching about how I wasn’t hearing back from jobs while at work one day. Keep in mind, I had been applying for a new job since February of 2023 and I’m JUST NOW getting a new job that isn’t even in the field of what I went to school for.

The reason why I wanted a new job is because a) my boss wasn’t going to pay me more than $14.50 an hour, which no big deal I could theoretically make it on that, but I have basically $860 in monthly bills and that leaves me very little to keep stashed for emergencies or save up to buy a house and b) no benefits, no career growth opportunities, only one week of paid time off for an entire year with no accrual. The man deadass said that if I wanted to be paid more to go work for fast food (because around here they are starting fast food workers at $15.00 an hour with some benefits) then got butthurt whenever he learned I was actually genuinely looking for another job.

One day I was talking about how I hadn’t heard from a job I was very interested in when one of our annoying regulars (one who works at a museum, and claims to be a graphic designer but honestly doesn’t do real good work and makes my manager do most of the design work and claims it as her own - not to mention sticks her nose in everyone’s business and wants you to drop everything to do her stuff for her) overheard me and decided that she had a wonderful suggestion for me: “Why don’t you come volunteer at the museum?”

I responded: “What’s the starting pay?”

“Well, there’s not really any pay - we’re looking for volunteers mostly. There might be a chance you’ll get paid minimum wage but it’s every so often.”

“So, you want me to leave a job where I am guaranteed to get paid $14.50 an hour, to come volunteer at a museum where there is maybe a possibility I would get paid $7.25 ‘every so often’.”

I’m fairly certain I embarrassed her by saying that because she stared at me for a moment before trying to talk about something else but I continued badgering her just because I was so fed up with her at this point, “What about me saying ‘I wish this job that would be $18 with benefits would get back with me!’ translates to ‘Let me try to pitch this full time volunteer opportunity!’? I understand y’all need help just as much as the next business, but unless your boss is going to give me what I’m looking for I’m not going to come spend forty hours a week just volunteering somewhere for practically free whenever I want to make sure I can make rent.”

Y’all she left and didn’t come back for almost six months after that. She just recently started showing up regularly again and she’s still working for the museum - and complaining about how she doesn’t get paid what she’s worth for what she’s doing. Makes me wonder how she’s able to make ends meet if even she supposedly only gets paid minimum wage “every so often.”

Posted by admin Rodney.

[snowy-equinox]

"Does my crush like me?"

Ask any reader, and they’ll tell you every time they open their inbox they get flooded with people desperate to know if their crush returns their feelings. Even if they state clearly in their rules that they aren’t answering that question, a few always slip in. 

Maybe some tarot readers enjoy receiving this question, but many do not. We are annoyed by this waste of our time and energy. I’m telling you to stop. 

Tarot readings are not perfect

Tarot readers have off days; they can misinterpret the cards, or pull the wrong cards. Some tarot readers lie to make you feel better, so you come back, so you tip better. There is never a guarantee that the reading you get is accurate. Getting a tarot reading from a stranger (online or in-person) is always a leap of faith. 

For the most accurate answer to this question, you need to ask the person themselves. If you really want to date this person, ask them. Otherwise, you might get misled. You could miss out on a wonderful relationship because a reader told you they don’t like you, or you could still embarrass yourself anyway if the reader says you do. There’s no real benefit to getting a reading over asking your crush directly. 

"But it's scary"

Look me in the eyes. If I tell you they like you back, will that give you the confidence you need? Will you turn around and ask them out immediately afterwards? Or, would you psych yourself out after the reading and go right back to your nervous, wondering state? 

Unless you could tell me, with certainty, that you would take my word and ask them out, you are wasting my time. 

Not to mention, this is part of being human. People have had to deal with crushes and unrequited love for the entirety of time, and I don’t like the feeling you’re using me to get around what many would consider a rite of passage. It sucks, I know. But you have to learn to manage the situation yourself. 

"They say they do, but they don't act like they do"

Okay, then…move on? My tarot reading is not going to fix their behavior. Even if I say they like you, you still need to address their mixed messages because that won’t just stop. Clarify what your relationship status is (if they try to deflect or give you a run-around, time to move on). Talk to them about how their behavior makes you feel. Sometimes the person you’re crushing on is not ready to be in a relationship even if they love you. You need to be able to learn the red flags without worrying about if they still like you. I’m not going to give you a tarot reading that you can cling to while they continue to hurt you. 

"They say they do, but I have my doubts"

I have a lot of relationship-based anxiety, and I know exactly how it feels. You are searching for any scrap of validation, anything to lessen the choking weight on you. But once you have that validation, it only lasts for so long before the anxiety comes back. 

My reading would only be a temporary salve, not a solution. If you have doubts, you need to talk to the person themself. Give them a chance to understand how you feel and help you. It could mean changing a behavior, more transparency, or more love notes. 

Tarot readings are meant to help you grow and learn, not keep you stagnated. Learning how to manage feelings and communicate is such an important part of life; you cannot be a functioning member of society without these skills. Our tarot readings are not here so you can bypass this work. Stop asking us this question, stop wasting our time, stop using us.

[cringefaecompilation]

not to dunk on junior year again but i am noticing a pattern here with the treatment of certain storytelling elements here.

both bell’s hells and the ratgrinders were pcs that gained sapience. the difference is that the ratgrinders were villains and the hells are heroes.

one of the most love-it-or-hate-it aspects of campaign 3 is that it does not only focus on the main 7 or 8 characters and everybody else is tossed to the wayside unless they benefit them like usual. all npcs (with downfall, that's including the gods!) deserve a chance to have their story told and they are all written to be that. the generic runaway prince you have to help escape to a life of freedom! the cute little helper robot npc! generic spooky evil minions based on public domain monsters! the quirky quest-giving fae! the rough and tumble hired goon! the brave captain of the guard protecting a strong lady in charge!  yes, even imogen, who in any other story would be the sad little abandoned daughter of the bbeg who would mourn the hero killing her mother but understand that the hero had to do what needed to be done.

and again, you don’t have to like it!

but there is a weird sort of thing i noticed amongst all the critical role c3 criticism that reminded me of people defending fhjy. an undercurrent of insisting that all the ratgrinders (who were teenagers. who were groomed and then murdered.) were pure evil spoiled brats and just wanted to be handed everything on a platter because they didn’t deserve what the main cast earned their place as the main characters and made passive aggressive posts saying things to the tune of you know they’re evil right. very Watsonian with a staunch refusal to look at a Doylist explanation. it got so bad to the point where people were insisting that if you liked the ratgrinders and sympathized with them then you were a fascism apologist.

astoundingly enough c3 criticism has only scraped the surface of this sort of overdramatic accusation, but it goes in the opposite direction. if you like where the story is going and how it's being told, then you’re not a real critical role fan. the story should have just been about the characters fighting evil fae or just wiping out the ruby vanguard and everyone in it without all this stupid introspective discussion on power because it’s retconning the gods being bad guys! grey morality sucks, why can’t good guys just be good? they all feel like npcs except for imogen because she’s the only one with a chosen birthright!

(of course, if they say that last part out loud, that might not look so good for them)

 yes, we know the gods are imperfect. that’s what we’ve been saying this whole time. but all these passive aggressive gifsets of liam-as-orym saying that the gods aren’t pure evil and it’s stupid to think so or laura and matt ooc saying that the gods have a grey area don’t mean fucking jack if you turn around and insist the gods have zero flaws and everything they do is good, actually and Aeor Had It Coming.

important caveats:

the actors on d20 could not react to things they were doing in the moment. they were tired after filiming 3 episodes back to back and wrapped up their season faster than usual to join the sag-aftra strike. i am aware of this.

yes i know that d20 is a comedy improv series! that does not prevent it from having deep themes and character introspection! ayda aguefort and zelda donovan still very much exist and had their own arcs despite being npcs!

yes the ratgrinders were working with a man trying to kill and replace a goddess and yes he is a colonizing twat. however, doesn’t that also make it the fandom’s insistence that liking the kids is bad and fascistic but making ship art of him and the other teacher that killed all of them is totally okay? rules for he but not for thee? 

[voidsteffy]

Anand (S/O Satyamurthy) x fem!OC

A/N: Um so hi 🧍🏽‍♀️Please read this and lemme know how you like it in the comments. This man is my pookie bear, and also this movie plays on the tv whenever I ask for it to ok? This is My Movie. And also @mahi-wayy asks and I deliver again, what can I say🤗 btw, timeline may be skewed ignore that, it fit that way. No trigger warnings except the mention of death. Not proofread.

Word count: 2.2k words

More than grief, grief of a person who they know dying an untimely death, everyone’s face he saw outside his house that day had a glimmer of joy. Joy of his family’s downfall, which would mean they had something to gain from it.

Coming out of that room, having written off all the assets to save his father’s honour, it was the first time Anand had felt truly alone. There was a family depending on his every step now. His mother who saw her husband die ; his brother wasn’t himself after the death and his sister-in-law who was truly herself at the moment - strong and stern ; his little niece, the innocent girl who still couldn’t understand why her grandpa hadn’t come home for dinner.

“Amma…” he sat his mother down. She didn’t have any interest nor want of grandeur, but what he did was going to all but drag them onto the streets.  “I had to sign away all the properties. They asked me to claim bankruptcy but I couldn’t drag his name through mud.”

She nodded, suddenly older than he’d remembered leaving her, and held his shaking hands.

“Nandu, your father was Satyamurthy.” (dignified man who tells the truth)

He didn’t have it in him to smile, but years later, he’d look back to that moment and find some courage to smile. “Was. And always will be.”

He planned to sit there until someone called him, until someone needed more from him than his signature. But from the bustle in the house, one voice suddenly stood out.

“How dare you manipulate my client into this trap?! Don’t you realise we can move the court for untimely misrepresentation of information? Just because you’re benefiting from—”

“Listen here, Mrs. Lawyer. If you think I’m standing here in this house by my own free will, think again. I stood no benefit from the shitshow that just took place in that room. I simply gave him his options and—”

“And who are you to give him options? Don’t you think I’m unaware of your motives here Mr. Sambasiva Rao. Henceforth, whatever communication you’re to have with my client, will be through me. I’d suggest you leave these premises unless you want me to drag you and your friends here for their claims of bankruptcy in the past.”

It was a confusing day for Anand, but for a moment he could think of something other than death, debt and his future.

“And it’s Miss Lawyer to you sir! Get out of my sight!”

The owner of the angry voice rounded the corner of the living room, and walked straight into Anand.

“Swapna?”

What was she doing here, fighting battles in the hallways?

She’d changed, from when he last saw her. Her brows were furrowed, nostrils flared from the argument, and her eyes outlined generously by kajal that gave her a divine resemblance. Hair almost falling out from her unkempt bun and files and papers held close to her chest, Swapna re-entered Anand’s life in his favourite dark teal sari.

“Nandu.” she froze.

Maybe she was unnerved by the stoicism on his face or the cluelessness when he asked “What are you doing here?”, that she beckoned him to sit immediately.

“Hey… How are you?”

“I could be better.”

“But you didn’t choose to be better, did you?”

Her accusation, he realised quite quickly, was gentle. He sighed, “What are you doing here, Swapna? Really…”

“I’m the family lawyer, I need to execute the will before anything can be surrendered as debt paid off.”

Anand looked up, imagining his father’s all-knowing smile.

What have you planned, Nanna?

-

Swapna was the first and last friend he remembered making. Every other friend in his life just came and went, but Swapna… he couldn’t forget her if he tried. Her father, despite being too young to be a father and as much of a successful businessman as he was— shared a faint friendship and acquaintance with Anand’s father. With both her young parents working during school years, Swapna stayed back at Anand’s house more often than not. She was more of a favourite in his house than he himself was. She always had the depth of oceans in her heart when she spoke, the world on her shoulders. Always a serious and loyal daughter, law student, friend and as time went on, his girlfriend.

They didn’t specifically share it with anyone, and no one suspected anything intimate going on with them, nothing different from the normal familiarity. They were each other’s warm embraces and without realising the gravity of his plans, a young Anand already had a diamond ring hidden deep in his cupboard meant for the love of his life.

She had been fidgety and moody after graduating, but Anand chalked it up to fear of the future, and anxiety about revealing their relationship to their parents.

Until the week after her graduation from law school, she was invited to Anand’s home along with her parents for something important. 

His parents wanted Swapna to be married to his brother.

Anand hadn’t known about the proposal until it was staring him in the face as a wedding invitation card in the middle of his living room.

Instead of a yes, the entire house sunk in silence, Swapna standing at the centre of it with a guarded ashen face.

“Forgive us if we were too forward amma,” his father smiled sheepishly. “We’ve always thought of you as a part of our family, and became eager at the thought of you being the daughter of this house.”

It was true. Anand saw the emotion behind his father’s statement. But he also saw his brother’s refusal of this proposal. He loved someone. Anand knew this because he had met that sweet, stoic someone just a day ago when she had proposed marriage to his brother.

Swapna had tears in her eyes, shaking hands wiping it away fervently before she shook her head.

“I’m sorry uncle, but I don’t belong in this house.”

She’d looked right at Anand after she’d said it, and she walked away from years of friendship. Years of being with each other, from this house she felt like she didn’t belong in.

Behind her, her parents apologised and left him to pick the pieces of his mother’s and father’s broken hearts.

The day after that, Swapna had flown to Australia for her post-graduation and left Anand behind. With the ring still back somewhere in his cupboard, buried beneath years of friendship and excuses for her.

-

“Hello!”

“Hello?” his sister-in-law’s stoic voice clicked him out of his anger. All that rage that had been boiling within him melted his bones and his legs felt like jelly.

Anand crumpled into the nearest chair. “Ah, hello. Vadina…”

“How are you, all okay? You sound like you’re stressed,”

He snapped his fingers at Param, gesturing him back out from all the earlier plans of leaving. Life had a way of reminding his purpose lately, and it always seemed to squash him more than humble him.

“Nothing like that vadina! How are amma and sweetie?”

“We’re doing okay—”

“The wedding will be done in a few days. We’ll pay the school fee the minute I come back.”

“I didn’t call for that mister.”

She didn’t sound wounded. Three lakhs was not a small amount to have not stressed about. Instead, in her serious reply, a tinge of concern touched him. Seemed like a part of his father lived on in her. She wasn’t infinitely kind like him, or perennially smiling, but till this day he felt like he left his mother at home with his father. Nothing would happen to anybody because vadina had his back.

“But that’s what I came here for.”

After a few instructions on keeping his health from deteriorating any further, his sister-in-law bid goodbye. He was left to accept green flowers and a lot of stupid nonsense from the old man parading around the mandap. But Anand would do it. For his family.

-

After the party with the groom and Pallavi’s social friends, he sat there at the half-built mandap in the dark after hours, ID card twisted around his wrist like a tourniquet, a reminder of why he was doing this job.

Anand didn’t need a reminder of what whirlwind life had been lately, but bringing Sambasiva Rao to the same wedding he was incharge of was fate’s cruel game.

“Nandu…”

For the past few days, ever since he had called Swapna to look over his contract with Bhadra after realising it was Pallavi’s wedding, she hadn’t left the venue. He behaved like he didn’t see it, but Param and Sameera were somehow always near her to chauffeur her or check on her necessities. If she noticed the special treatment, she didn’t say anything. They began to get closer, bridging the silence of all the years she was away with a conversation here and there while she helped him with stuff way above her paygrade. She didn’t mind, she said, not if it gave her an excuse to talk to Anand.

So that evening, when she approached him like he was a panicked deer, he couldn’t help but give a small smile.

“Hi.”

In seconds, there was a cup of warm coffee in his hands.

“For the hangover. I got it when it was hot actually. But I couldn’t find you that easily.”

“Really? Where did you look?”

“The edge of a cliff for starters.”

A laugh bubbled out of him, which made her crack a smile too. She never could bear it if Anand was moody. She took the change in his demeanour as encouragement and continued with a dramatic sigh.

“And then the bar, and then under some classless businessman’s classless booted foot.”

“So that’s where you found me.”

“Nope, no luck there either,” Swapna’s skirt swirled as she turned about and sat down beside him, “Because you got out from under it.”

It took Anand but a second to remember that for a long time, they had depleted their woes just being there for each other.

No one had been there for him in a while.

“Sameera told me what happened, she feels bad.”

“If I had a buck for everytime someone felt bad that something embarrassing happened to me, I’d have enough money to pay my bills.”

“She’s not someone though,” Swapna offered, “She’s Sambasiva Rao’s daughter.”

“Oh great, now the one friend I’ve made over here is cruel by blood.”

There was no rebuttal from Swapna. It was almost 3 in the morning and the nearest light was a blinking lightbulb somewhere far near the welcome carpet. It was just them, shoulder to shoulder, but Anand felt Swapna slip away like he hated to see all those years ago.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

She shook her head, “No, no you didn’t… I’ve just been wanting to tell you something about Sambasiva Rao.”

“Okay?”

“And everytime I try to pluck up the courage and tell you, it just ends up feeling like the wrong time and then I don’t end up telling you which brings us back to the same—”

“Swapna…” his fingers shushed her lips, rough and calloused just like they were back then. He was closer now, and he whispered like he was okay with her panic. “The time is right now, it’s ok, tell me.”

“Nannu maa parents dattata theeskunnaru,” (“I was adopted by my parents.”)

His brows furrowed.

Swapna rolled her eyes, “Oh my god, speeches you can make, but where’s your mind when it comes to connecting information? Nandu!” she whisper-yelled to continue their conversation. “I was adopted as a kid!” she looked at him like he had to make a comment about it, he assumed.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry,” he hit his temples like he was begging his mind to work, “Sorry! When did you know?”

“The day I graduated…”

He paused. Wait, that meant—

“That was why I rejected the proposal that day… Anand, all those years ago, when I said I didn’t belong with your family, that was because I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere.”

Anand wrapped his arm around her, and like it was muscle memory, her head rested in the nook of his arm.

“So you didn’t hate my family?”

“No! When you weren’t picking up my calls, I called your parents and told them about everything in detail. Aunty said she’d tried to make you talk to me many times, but you hadn’t agreed.”

That was right, and Anand felt his muscles clench at how close he had been to getting her back. If he had just thought about his mother’s requests, then he would have talked to Swapna and gotten the love of his life back. He wouldn’t have been away on his bachelor trip when his father died.

He hesitated, taking in the information when something clicked.

“Wait, what does that have to do with Paida?”

“Because he’s my birth father.”

The world all but gave way under his feet, and Anand wished he could blame it on the alcohol. Swapna didn’t make a big note of him being still quiet, assuming he was just processing what to say.

“So, you singular friend - Sameera is my sister, and by that connection… We’re both cruel by blood if you look at it that way.”

Anand looked up at the stars.

What is this Nanna?

A/N: So.... tada? There can be a part two of this if y'all don't shoo me out of this site after reading this. Also, notice how only his mother and Swapna call him Nandu.

[jhlvogue]

bring back lovable villans !!

there is a reason why penelope as a character has the fandom so split and its because she is not a villain that is easily lovable.

look at characters such as daemon targaryean, klaus mikaelson, or blair waldorf, these are characters that are written to be the antagonist. they are written for us to not root from them. they don’t hide behind their actions, they stand ten toes down in it. if either of them were in penelope’s situation, there wouldn’t be any back and forth or plot holes to justify their actions.

klaus deadass told tyler what method he recommends in order to k*ll him by retelling tyler how is OWN MOTHER died by klaus’s own hands…and people (me included) STILL rooted for this man. that man was so in love with caroline he made it his mission to be tyler and mystic falls public enemy #1 just so he could be around her.

blair was not a perfect friend. she was the typical mean, rich , white privileged girl who could not understand other peoples wants or needs unless it benefited her. blair was not perfect but she never claimed to be perfect. she never claimed to be nice or some martyr. she was blair and she was loyal to her group even when that group wasn’t loyal to her. people went from hating her in season one to rooting for her to win in the end.

daemon targaryean is not a hero. that man is about to say a ‘son for a son’ and you know what? he is going to have the whole team black fandom rooting for the war crimes he is about to ensue. not once did daemon say he was the good guy or excuse his actions. that man took the definition of standing on buisness during the dance of dragons. he is a morally gray character that is loved by the fandom and does not waste his time trying to be some disney prince.

penelope & polin fans find the incessant need to have an excuse for every single one of penelopes actions. whether it be her being a wallflower or ‘saving’ her loved ones by writing about them, there always is an excuse for her selfish actions. penelope is not given the space to relish in the villain that is LW. she could have been so much more as a morally gray character that admitted to writing shit about people while also growing into a woman who is known to tell it like it is and not hide behind the glitter and pastels of the ton. i mean isn’t that what LW is meant to do? uncover the ugly truth behind the dances and courtships of the privileged society?

but she cant fufill this because yall want her to be the good guy! you want her to be the heroine so bad when her writing and personality isnt set up for that. thats why people are pissed with every character bending backwards to be ok with what she does-yall want the new lady bridgerton to have everything and be the poster child of that family. thats why yall have all of these think pieces about how eveyone around penelople sucks & has something they need to work on while she is perfect. be so for real penelope does some nasty stuff & she would have been great doing that stuff and owning it like a true boss and not this cookie cutter princess ending where she continues to write gossip as penelope bridgeton.

[zairene]

SYNOPSIS: y/n is invited by the new york times magazine to introduce herself to the world of fame. it seems that audiences around the globe have been buzzing to know the scoop behind this new model that’s made a brilliant entrance into the industry.

WARNINGS: none!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: alr working on chapter one 🙇🏾‍♀️

WORD COUNT: 628

SERIES MASTERLIST + TAGLIST FORM

“YOU READY TO START, Y/N?” THE LADY HAD previously introduced herself as amelia. recently, you had gotten an email from her company giving you an offer to talk about your life story for millions. at first, you were hesitant about the idea. you had been able to maintain a private yet mysterious persona, not much was known about you but the wikipedia page that was made that’s easily accessible to anybody. you didn’t bother to try to get it taken down since the information on it was accurate and nothing too personal about your life.

nobody knew about your family life, whether or not you had siblings, or your relationship status even, and you never confirmed or denied rumors unless you had to because false things being spread about you was inevitable, and you honestly couldn’t care less. you only let the public know things you wanted them to know. although, this invasion of privacy would be good for your career, said your manager. it would let your supporters know who you are and learn they can somehow relate to you.

“yeah, i’m ready!” you said, trying to keep a smile that was so obviously forced on your face. you tried to be genuine because she wasn’t a rude woman. she was quite nice, maybe you’d invite her out for a drink or two sometime.

beforehand she gave you a brief rundown of how this was gonna go. she records your conversation, and they take everything you said and put it in a magazine. you agreed and before you knew it amelia pressed the recording button in front of you.

“so, y/n, let’s start simple, yeah? do you have any hobbies? things you like to do in your spare time?”

“well, yes. i like to sing sometimes and i’ve always been painting since i was a little girl. i’m more of a traditional painter, but i wouldn’t mind trying things out digitally.”

she shook her head and wrote some notes down, before looking back up to you with a smirk.

“singing? well, is there a possibility that you could pursue a career in singing?”

you chuckled. “maybe, but i don’t wanna set expectations too high right now. so i’ll let everyone decipher that on their own.”

“alright alright. well, it’s not a secret that your looks have caught the eyes of others. and it leaves a lot of people wondering if you would ever date a fan?”

your eyebrows furrowed. “i honestly don’t know. that’s the problem with being… famous, i guess? you never really know anyone’s true intentions with you. they could lie and say they don’t know me from anywhere but they have. and they are only trying to get with me because they see how that can be a benefit for themselves and not because they like me, for me. so, i’m not saying i wouldn’t, but i just don’t prefer it.”

she shakes her head, her lips pressing against one another. “that’s understandable. there are cruel people out there. but, on a more positive note, there’s been a buzz in the media. it’s being said that someone, i won’t name, might give you a run for your money, y/n.”

“oh, seriously?”

“seriously. he’s known for his modeling internationally. you may be running the united states, but currently he’s running the world. how do you feel about that?”

you thought for a second. running the world? now how the hell can anyone possibly do that? and how haven’t you heard of him? “well, um, i’m not sure, especially since you didn’t give me the name.” you laughed, and she followed. “but, this isn’t his territory, it’s mine. so why should i be worried? you said it yourself. i’m running the united states… right?”

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