#i don't know what to do to make these urges go away

[itsnesss]

hello! could you write a hwang junho x reader where he finds out that they were asked to join the games? like he discovers the card and freaks out over it? 🫡

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | fluff, emotional content, themes of concern and vulnerability, soft romantic moments, mentions of risk and danger

word count | 1.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The sound of the television is a distant murmur as you get lost in your thoughts. The card weighs on you, but something inside you urges you to ignore the warnings. The desire to change, to escape the monotony of your life, is stronger than any doubt. The opportunity is there, within your reach, and you know you could take it. But what if something goes wrong? The doubt consumes you.

Suddenly, you hear a noise coming from the kitchen. You know it’s him, Jun-ho.

You wonder what he's doing around here, but you don't have time to think too much about it. You’ve barely noticed him until now, but there's something strange about his presence in the last few days. He watches you constantly, as if he's waiting for something to happen.

You hear his footsteps approaching, and when he enters the room, his gaze goes directly to the coffee table where, unknowingly, the card has been left visible. The tension in the air is palpable. You don’t dare move it; you don’t want him to ask, but he does.

"What is this?" he says, his voice so low you can barely hear it. His eyes fix on the card, but his hands stay at his sides, as if he’s avoiding touching it.

"Where did you get this from? Who gave it to you?" His voice hardens, but there's also a kind of desperation you hadn’t noticed before.

Your heart skips a beat. You know you’ve left it in plain sight by mistake, but you didn’t expect him to react like this. Something’s not right, and his gaze makes that clear. The way his jaw tightens and the worry in his eyes makes you hesitate for a moment. You question if you really know what you’re about to do.

"You don’t have to worry about it," you respond, trying to downplay it, but your voice trembles. You don’t even believe yourself. You’re trying to act strong, but you know deep down that something feels vulnerable.

"Yes, yes, I have to worry," he responds firmly, stepping a little closer. The anxiety in his expression is palpable, as if he’s about to explode. "This is not a game. You don’t know what’s behind that card. You’re getting into something you can’t control."

You, however, can’t let him influence you. There’s something inside you telling you that this is your chance, that you can’t let it slip away so easily. Life has been dragging you through the same routine, and this could be the change you’ve been needing. Why not try it? If you could escape all this, maybe you could finally feel free, maybe you could be something else, something different.

"I don’t understand why you care so much," you say with a forced smile, trying to brush off the situation. You don’t want him to see how affected you are by his gaze, by his concern. You need to have control, at least a little. "I’m not a child, I can take care of myself."

The silence between the two of you grows dense. He looks at you as if he’s trying to read what’s going on in your mind, but finally, he steps toward you and, with a deep sigh, takes your hands in his. His fingers, warm and firm, make you feel a small knot in your stomach. It’s strange how such a simple physical touch can make your thoughts dissolve, how suddenly you feel so vulnerable.

"I’m just asking for myself," he says softly, his voice much gentler now, but full of an emotion you can’t quite identify. His expression is laden with sincerity, something you’ve never seen from him before. "Don’t do it. Promise me. I don’t want you to go into that, I don’t want to lose you."

His eyes lock with yours, and in that moment, you feel something change in the air. It’s as if, for an instant, the rest of the world disappears, and it’s just you and him, in that small bubble of silence. His plea resonates in your mind, and for the first time, you wonder if you’re making the right decision. His concern is palpable, and for a moment, you question if maybe he knows something you don’t understand yet. It’s so hard to comprehend why he cares so much, why now it seems like the only right option is to follow his advice.

And the worst part is that, for the first time, you doubt your own desires.

"If you need money, I’ll help you," he adds with an unexpected softness, as if he’s willing to do anything to keep you from making that decision. As if it’s not just an attempt to stop you from entering the game, but a genuine desire to protect you, to offer you something better than that risk. "Just promise me. Please."

He says it with such tenderness that you almost crumble. His words, so sincere, pierce you like a knife, and for a moment, you forget about the card, the game, everything that had drawn you to that decision. It’s just him, his gaze, and that glimmer of hope that seems to want to reach you.

It’s strange how, in that instant, everything that had been noise and chaos in your head becomes quiet. You feel the weight of his plea in the air, the vulnerability of his confession, as if he’s offering you his trust without reservation. Why does he care so much about what you think? Why is he so desperate to save you?

You remain silent for a moment, looking into his eyes. You feel the weight of the card in your pocket, but now, in his presence, it doesn’t seem as tempting as it did before. The game, the opportunity, all seem insignificant compared to what you’re feeling now, as you look at him. It’s not just that he’s asking you to stay away from danger; it’s as if, in some way, he’s asking you to believe in him, to believe in something beyond what you want. And the worst part is that it’s becoming hard not to believe.

Without thinking, you step a little closer to him, almost as if it were a reflex, and before you can process it, he kisses you. It’s a soft kiss, full of an unexpected tenderness, as if he’s putting all his hope into that gesture, as if he’s asking you to understand him without words. The kiss is short, but it speaks volumes, and when he pulls away, your hearts beat together, intertwined in a connection you didn’t expect, but somehow, you understand. He’s reached you in a way you didn’t know you needed.

"Promise me," he says softly, as if he already knows he’s gotten to your heart, as if he’s already gotten what he wanted.

You remain silent for a moment, struggling with your own thoughts. The card is still there, close to you, but now, in his presence, you can’t ignore what really matters. His concern, his sweetness, his sincerity... all of that makes you question what you once desired with such fervor.

Finally, you take a deep breath, as if letting go of everything you’ve been holding inside. You look Jun-ho in the eyes, and with a sigh, you feel the weight on your chest lighten.

"I promise," you respond finally, your voice barely audible, but full of certainty. And for the first time in a long time, you feel that the most important decision you’ve made is the right one.

[viiolyns]

abby anderson x reader

cw / somno. ass humping. kinda shit writing.

a soft moan slips past her lips as her small, perky tits press gently against your bare back; puffy, wet cunt grinding against the curve of your bare ass. you stir slightly, your eyebrows furrowing at the unexpected contact, but you don't wake.

you were asleep, and she found herself doing...this, she knew she shouldn't, but the urge was too strong to resist. she couldn’t wait any longer.

she hadn't seen you in weeks. recently, reports of infected had surged, with some even breaching the base's defenses. as a result, isaac had been sending groups out for extended missions, often leaving for weeks at a time. unfortunately, you were part of the last group chosen, and it had been nearly two frustrating months since you left.

frustrating for her and you, mainly her because she missed you like crazy, she loved you so much. you're one of the only people she had left in this fucked up universe. aaaaaaand because she couldn't fucking get off without you.

she wanted to deny the fact, she really did. and she tried, over and over, but nothing worked. not her fingers, not her pillow, not even the very few toys she had tried. nothing worked like you did, only you could make her come. it was humiliating, she couldn't believe she had been conditioned to need someone so badly. she was a grown woman not some child, and yet somehow you had found a way to have that much control over her.

now you were back, which was great. but you were exhausted, crashing almost the second you got back. barely giving abby any sort of attention beside a quick kiss and a promise to satiate her desires the next morning. but she needed more.

she needed you.

...even if this wasn't the right way to go about it.

her eyes are squeezed shut now as she pants, clit throbbing so hard it was almost painful. cheeks dusting a rosy pink as she heard the wet, sticky sounds coming from where you two were connected. shyness, humiliation even, eating away at her because she couldn't just wait a few hours for you to wake.

her nose was buried in your neck, breathing in your sweet scent with every shaky intake of breath. she bit down on her bottom lip, praying to whatever gods above to keep you asleep.

she eventually found a steady rhythm, pussy thinking first as she sped up, any self restraint she had long gone. your body racked with her harsh thrusts and, unfortunately for her, she didn't notice you moving just a bit too much.

"fuck." she whines, chasing that warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. her hand comes up to palm at her breast, squeezing and fondling herself as she imagines it was your touch instead of her own. she presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck, leaving a series of dark bruises behind.

she’s not being very subtle right now.

as abby moved on top of you, her toned muscles quivered with each movement, sending shivers down your spine. her breath came in shallow gasps, each one a high-pitched whine on her lips. it was clear she was close now, so fucking close.

her grip on you tightens, her blunt nails digging crescents into your thighs. that’s when you started to wake up.

“the fuc—abby?” your words cut through her impending orgasm and she freezes. it's when you start to shift some more that she finally starts to scurry off of you.

“i’m so-sorry…you were asleep so..” she muttered sheepishly.

“i was, yeah.” you grumbled, propping yourself up some, taking in the sight in front of you. she was fully naked, tank top hanging around her neck. her braid had come undone, loose pieces of hair framing her pretty face.

you sat up completely, turning to face her fully. your hand came up to cradle her face. “why didn’t you just wake me up, abs?” god, she was mortified. her eyes didn’t meet yours, ashamed of what she’d done. “you know you could’ve.”

she knew this. she nods weakly, attempting to ignore the intense throbbing between her legs, getting increasingly wetter at the sound of your thick, sleepy voice. "didn’t wanna wake you. i’m sorry, baby.”

poor thing…so weak and pathetic. she couldn't help herself. not when it came to her wants, her cravings. she needed you, craved your touch, your control. you could see it in the way her body trembled, her eyes begged. "you just can't get off without me, can you?"

she nods, unable to find any words.

"you want more, don't you?”

another nod.

you lay back down in your spot, eyes closing as you edge back into sleep. "go on then. clean my ass off when you're done."

booooooooo. boringggg and rushed ending. i forgot about this account whoops

[miange1]

I NEED MORE BRIAN MOSER AHHHH

Brian Moser, with a lover that's "too sweet"

male leaning reader, brian is a freak, being nervous more than shy, arguments, accidental guilt tripping, manipulation(at first), reader gives off innocence but they're not they're just a virgin, fake names, being overly touchy, blow jobs

note: had an idea so i just used this ask as an excuse to finally post it. also if you notice typos no you don't im not fixing them

— You were his first actual relationship in which didn't involve murder or trying to get closer to Dexter. Or so he remembers, he probably had that intention at first yet completely forgot about it due to his own feelings.

— Meeting you felt like a bunch of perfumes and flowers were thrown at his face— you were smiling and speaking with him like he was your long lost friend or your boyfriend, like you knew him since forever.

"Oh! Rudy!" He instantly felt his heart speed up, feeling more nervous than he's ever been in his entire life and you weren't even calling out his real name. He needs to calm down, seriously he's sweating way too much.

"I missed you so much, how have you been?" He felt your arms wrap around him tightly, yet ater the hug your hands took his and held them as if they were the most delicate things in the world, besides you.

The man could barely get his words out, stuttering every now and then and looking away from you often. Your thumb was swiping softly over the top of his knuckles, why were you looking at him like that.

— Getting with you was the most romantic thing he has ever thought of. Taking you out to a place where it was peaceful yet beautiful, and he could confess to you and actually mean it.

— It was the best place he could find, it was hot but lovely. When he confessed, you stayed quiet for far too long and he thought you didn't want him. You were just in so much shock, it's been a bit since someone was this genuine to you.

— Floating on air is what he felt like each time he was with you. When you were able to visit his work, you showed him with kisses each and every single time even after arguments which was something he would have a heavy weight on his shoulders about.

"Debra doesn't at all have a thing for me, what the hell are you talking about!" You were blinking back heavy tears trying to see his side as best as you could, yet everything just went a bit too far. From understanding to a plain bicker.

"It's obvious she does, and she's in your office more than I am!" He rolled his eyes, his fingers on his nose and pinching the bridge. He knew Debra had a thing for him, but what he didn't know was why he lied seeing you fight for him like this. He liked seeing you get jealous.

"Because it's her job." Yet you protested, "I understand that but.." you couldn't get the rest out, starting to cry and you instantly felt embarrassed. "Sorry— shit, I'm sorry.." His upset look rested, sighing as he went closer to you for an embrace.

"No, it's my fault." He admitted, his arms squeezing your frame in a comforting manner as you cried into his chest.

He was so turned on right now.

— Brian had a bunch in which you were a virgin, he just would have never guess he was actually right about it.

— All he wanted was a small make out for a bit, yet it had escalated and you were on your knees. God, you looked so pretty.

"Ah, ah, your teeth.. Good..that's it." He leaned his head back, the warmth of your mouth and tongue working at his girth. For your first time even giving head you were real good at following his directions. You did it just how he liked it. Tongue swirling, spit mixing with what leaked from him, it was heaven.

He jutted his hips forward a bit, catching you by surprise and giving you the urge to wanna pull back, which didn't happen due to Brian's fingers tangling in your hair— and pushing your head back forward. "Doing so well, fuck.." you practically weren't evenoving anymore, and if you were you had just been going ragdoll and moving along with Brian's pulls.

His dick twitched in your mouth as he heard a gargled moan, fuck he was gonna cum just from hearing that alone. Then he'd hear you whine, almost impatiently. "Hush you're fine, just keep on— God, yes.." eyes rolling back, feeling your nose poke at his pelvis the deeper he pushed you down when he came. Letting go of your hair, he let your head fall back a bit before he forced your mouth closed.

"Swallow."

— Sooner or later he would then wonder why you were a virgin in the first place, yet you did date people for long periods of time.

"I don't know, when I asked after break up they said they just couldn't."

— He got the hint for himself.

[horsechestnut]

I think my ideal Steph, Cass, and Tim dynamic would be that they're all best friends, but they can not all hang out together. Like, if you ask any one of them who their best friend is they genuinely will not be able to pick between the other two, but all three of them together triggers each of their insecurities in the worst way and always leads to a fight.

Like, Steph and Cass are so affectionate with each other, and constantly flirting and Tim assumes their teasing, but what if they're not, and oh god is he third wheeling on a date between his ex-girlfriend and his sister? They don't actually want him here, they invited him to be nice and he was to oblivious to realize it wasn't genuine. He should leave. But before he can come up with a believable excuse they've changed topics and... hang on, did Steph just say her dad threw a book at her once? Because so much of Steph and Cass's relationship is built on an understanding that they won't make a big deal when they mention something messed up about their past that they just say stuff like that, but Tim does not have that same understanding. So Tim hears that and instead of rolling with it, it's "Steph you can't just say that like it's not a big deal... why is Cass laughing? You can't laugh at that it's fucked up! I don't care that it was a long time ago!" And now Cass is confused and Steph is angry and Tim feels like shit for probably ruining what they wanted to be a date and frustrated that he's being treated like he's overreacting despite being the only one with a normal reaction to child abuse. Mostly he's terrified that he screwed this whole thing up somehow and neither of them is going to want to hang out with him again.

Meanwhile Steph and Tim are so intrinsically linked to each other. They've shared things they will never share with anyone else, they were each others first love. And Cass understands that, she does, but it's hard sometimes seeing how easy they are with each other. The way Steph knows Tim's upset without having to read his body langue the way Cass does or Tim can predict exactly how late Steph will be to any given situation. More than that though, what truly makes her want to hide away from them, is the history they both had but didn't share. The sly comments about Tim looking like a character Cass has never heard of or jokes that make no sense but send Steph into laughing fits. The kind that when she asks are brushed off with "it was an old meme" or "just a show from when we were kids". The reminders that she isn't normal, she can never really be like them. If she doesn't ask most of the time it doesn't occur to them to explain, it seems so obvious to them. They start doing a synchronized dance from some movie that came out when they were in middle school and Cass slips away into the shadows. Later she gets a string of concerned text that slowly turn angry when she doesn't answer. Cass never tells them what was wrong.

And it's hard for Steph to look at Cass and Tim and not feel jealous, because more than just being friends, they're siblings. They are full members of the club, Bruce's children, let into the fold in a way she never can be. She doesn't even want to be anymore if she's being honest, but it still stings. They'll casually mention family dinner or reference inside jokes from the last Wayne charity whatever and Steph will feel the growing desire in her chest that she can not, under any circumstances, let anyone see. The desire that has caused her so much pain, she will not give it control over her again. And Cass calls Tim Robin sometimes, and he calls Cass Batgirl in return, and Steph has to bite back the urge to scream at them that she was Robin too! She is also a Batgirl! But it doesn't matter because she wasn't Cass's Robin or Tim's Batgirl, and it drives her insane that they're romanticizing that time, because don't they remember how much of an asshole Bruce was back then? And now Tim is mad at her for bring up the past as if they're not the ones who started it, and Cass is assuring her that Bruce has changed, and maybe he has, but it's to fucking late! He already ruined any chance of Steph every feeling fully comfortable with her place in their lives. So she storms off, fuming, leaving a baffled Tim and Cass to go enjoy their stupid family dinner.

So yeah, they are best friends. They all love each other more than they know how to say, and trust each other more than anyone else in the world. But they can never all hang out together. That only ever ends in disaster.

[skibasyndrome]

Hi Simon!

How about "Hate me" for the short but impactful phrases?👀 Feel free to make this as angsty or not angsty as you want!!💜

Thank you so much for the ask, Annika! 💜

Simon knows it's a bad idea, Wille has always been a bad idea, maybe one of the worst ideas Simon has ever had. But Simon now is no smarter man than the boy he used to be. It's too easy to follow Wille out onto the balcony, to flee from all the party noise and pounding music. The implications tie Simon's insides into knots. He doesn't know what he was expecting, if he was expecting anything at all. But he's still surprised to find Wille perched over the railing, body heaving and a lit cigarette clutched between his cramped fingers. The panicking isn't new, the smoking is. But it's not like Simon has been following the tabloid coverage of the crown prince to find out. Some smart part of him feels an immediate pull, an urge to make it better, to do what he's always been good at doing, but Simon stops himself halfway towards Wille. This isn't the boy he used to know, this is a stranger. Simon is a goddamn idiot. But it's too late, Wille has heard him, is whipping his head around with a panicked expression on his face that cuts right to Simon's core. Wille coughs once, then sniffles, quickly straightens up again. His cordial nod is unsteady and Simon takes a sick sort of enjoyment in that. It's good to know that he's not the only one barely keeping it together. "Hi," he says, not fully trusting his voice quite yet, but needing something to cut through their tense silence. He's relieved when Wille averts his eyes from Simon. Simon has never stood a chance against those. Wille nods again, looking out into the darkness now, takes a drag of the cigarette he seems to only remember now. Something about the whole picture makes Simon unreasonably angry. Entirely way too fucking angry for someone who promised himself that he was long over the pain and the grief and the what-if's. It's the silence, the fucking silence. The one thing Wille's always been great at, keeping everything to himself. It's the anger that pushes Simon forward, that loosens his tongue. "You never even-," he's immediately interrupted. "Hate me," Wille says, like it's the simplest thing in the universe. Simon is stunned by the nonchalance, the self-evidence, the fucking calmness. "You're right to," Wille continues, not looking up at Simon as he stubs out the last of his cigarette on the metal railing. "I know you do, and you're fucking right to." Simon feels sick to his core at the way the corners of Wille's lips curl upwards as he stares unseeingly ahead. He wanted anger, he wanted to scream at Wille, to make him see, to make him feel, he didn't want whatever this is. Simon isn't prepared for Wille to turn to him again. His hair is longer again these days, hanging into his face in strands that feel too familiar to Simon. He isn't prepared for any of this, he realizes. But it's too late. "You do, don't you?" Wille asks, and Simon is almost relieved to find his voice wavering, his lip trembling. Even with everything inside of him screaming to turn around and leave, Simon stays. Stays and nods. Wille closes his eyes and mirrors the movement, smiling almost wistfully. And for the sliver of a second, a tiny moment, barely long enough for Simon to believe it's real, there's something youthful to his face, something that chases away the angry wrinkles in his forehead, the dark rings under his eyes. "That's okay." Wille's voice sounds too small for his body. "I do, too," he continues and Simon thinks he's going to be sick. He doesn't want to be having this conversation, he doesn't want to know this, he doesn't want to care, he doesn't want to feel like he needs to reach out and make it better. "I fucked up the one good thing I had in life." Simon doesn't want to hear it, he doesn't want to care so goddamn much, still, after all this fucking time. He balls his fists, digs his nails into his palms to make himself wake up from this trance, to get his body to move. "I hurt the one person I've ever really loved." Simon now is no smarter man than the boy he used to be.

idk why I'm in such an angsty mood dskghdjkfgh but you said this was okay. rip tho.

Send me one of these prompts for a short lil story 💜

[the-grimm-writer]

Love Bites

I love how it's been unanimously decided Shoko is for the girls.

MDNI

Tw: Dubcon, biting, blood, dacryphilia, oral, fem reader

.

There was something wrong with Shoko. As a doctor, she was too aware that the pain coursing through her body wasn't the normal kind. Her head was pounding, and her teeth ached, making her want to bit down on something to relieve it.

She was lying alone in her bed, a trickle of sweat trickling down her forehead, and she's sickly pale. She panted softly, gripping onto the dark grey sheets. Her mind was spinning to the point that she couldn't remember how she got home last night.

At the thought of last night, memories flashed through her, but she couldn't remember all of them. But she did remember you, begging her to go with you to the club. Shoko recalled doing a few shots with you before you rushed to the dance floor. She chatted with a few people. Gojo and Geto, she believed. But she didn't really care about that.

She remembered focusing on you, the way you happily spun around. The flashing lazer lights made it look like you were moving in slow motion. She preferred to watch you instead of joining in, leaning back on the chair she was sitting in as she smoked a cigarette. It was easy to keep an eye on you since she had a much higher alcohol tolerance than you did.

But then someone grabbed her and dragged her away with ease while you weren't looking. She felt their arm press against the lower half of her face so she couldn't yell, and a warm, metallic substance filled her mouth. They kept her mouth covered until she swallowed.

That was all she remembered before her memory went blank. She didn't know how she woke up back in her home, writhing in her bed in pain, not wearing any clothes.

She clenched her fists, and she could feel her nails were longer and sharper than they were before as they dug into the palms of her hand. But it was something she hardly noticed.

A wave of agitation spiked through her as her phone went off. Her sensitive ears picking up on the ringing made her want to throw the device across the wall. Yet she managed to push that urge down,

"Hello, Ieiri?" Somehow, the sound of your sweet voice soothed the pain. "Are you okay? You just disappeared from the club. I'm so sorry. Did something happen?"

She felt a pang go through her as she heard your sad tone. She could tell that you blamed yourself for her disappearing all of the sudden.

It gave her motivation to slowly get up. Her mouth felt dry as she finally spoke.

"I'm fine, (Y/n). I just wasn't feeling well. I'm sorry I didn't let you know."

You immediately responded. "I understand. I was just so worried, it's been three days and I've heard nothing from you. Are you okay? Is it okay if I come by? Do you need anything?"

You didn't know what to call your relationship with Shoko. You couldn't say friends. Friends didn't know how you tasted. Friends didn't know your body the way Shoko does. But you weren't officially a couple. And neither of you had made a move yet.

A small smile crept its way to her face. "I don't need anything." She gently reassured you.

You immediately responded back to her. "Okay. But I'm still coming over."

She sighed, knowing there was no stopping your stubborn self. She stayed where she was, not moving from her spot on the bed until she heard a knock on her door twenty minutes later.

You'd rushed over as fast as you could. Shoko groaned softly as she forced herself up, a wave of lightheadedness hit her as she did. But she pushed through it, grabbing ahold of her robe she had and threw it on.

When she opened the door, you gasped as you took in her ghastly appearance.

A chill ran down your spine as you looked at Shoko. Your heart started racing, feeling the hair on the back of your neck stood up. You stepped back, like your body was sensing danger and was telling you to run.

But that was impossible. Shoko isn't dangerous.

You ignored it and stepped inside, shutting the door behind you.

"Are you sick? You look pale as a ghost." You said sadly and brought your hand up to her forehead.

You gasped and pulled away, shocked. She was cold. Unnaturally so.

Her hand latched out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back towards her. Your eyes widened as your face hit her shoulder as you stumbled into her. Her arms snaked around you, causing you to instinctively hug her back.

"I'm sorry." Shoko said softly. In a strange way, even her voice sounded different. Three days had felt like three years to her. Her desire for you as she felt your body heat growing stronger.

You were so, so warm. She pulled your closer to her, making you gasp softly. It was comforting, the opposite of her.

Her hand snaked into your hair, making you gasp as she suddenly gripped it hard. She brought her face towards your neck and inhaled.

Your sweet, signature perfume filled her senses. But she could sense more than that now. Your natural scent mixed in with it, making you smell addicting to her.

From where she stood, she could hear your heart thumping in her chest, the blood coursing through your veins. It sent a sharp pain through her empty stomach like it was telling her to feed it.

Your protests fell on deaf ears as you tried to pull away, sensing something was wrong.

Shoko was starving. But not in the typical human way. She was hungry for you. Like a starving wolf that just stumbled upon an injured rabbit.

A low growl left her as she pressed her lips against your neck, feeling your pulse against it. It made what little self-control she had left snap in half.

Her pain immediately went away as her fangs sunk into your neck. Driven by a carnal desire, she couldn't stop herself. Her hand was still gripping your hair, her other arm wrapping around her waist as she pulled you so your body was completely pressed against her own.

You could only look up at the ceiling as she forced your head back. A shocked, pained whimper escaping your lips. It was a pitiful sound, and Shoko loved it.

Her brown eyes turned a dark red as your thick, warm blood filled her mouth. The metallic taste was more addicting than she ever thought that it would ever be.

After a minute that felt like an eternity, Shoko slowly pulled away, lapping away the blood that trickled down your neck, causing you to cry out. She looked down at you for an unreadable expression for a moment.

Your eyes were wide with horror, tears bubbling up in your eyes as you looked into her crimson ones. You didn't know whether to cry or scream when her bloody lips curled into a smile, revealing her red stained teeth. Fangs, sharped and curved where her canine teeth used to be.

Her slender hand reached out and cupped your cheek, gently hushing you as more tears began to stream down your face. You flinched as her thumb

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," she said softly again, genuinely apologetic even though this was the most beautiful she's ever seen you, vulnerable in her arms. "But I need you. I don't know what's going on. You're the only one I could think about. I can't survive without you."

Your heart panted in your chest. Your neck throbbed in pain, and tears were streaming down your cheeks. Your instincts were screaming to get away from her. That the woman you loved was dead, replaced by a monster with a thirst for your blood.

Yet your heart yearned for her no matter how dangerous she was. She'd always be the one you went running towards, even when it meant that you'd be hurt. Besides, you'd never forgive yourself if you ran away when she's reaching out for you to help.

These feelings were terrifying.

When you didn't run, she slowly leaned in and pressed her forehead against yours. Neither of you said a word, staying in that position for a few tense seconds.

You closed your eyes as she moved in for a kiss. Her lips were as cold as the rest of her body, but her kisses were just as addicting as they always were. She took things slow just as she used to, making sure you were comfortable.

Pressing you against the wall, she gently pushed her tongue in your mouth. You ignored the way you could taste your blood as you accepted, letting her take control.

"I'll make this up to you, my love."

You always melted when she called you her love. You almost let her bite you again.

Her hand snaked around yours, and you followed her into her room.

She pushed you onto the dark grey bed that she'd just been screaming in pain in less than an hour ago.

"Wait!" You said breathlessly as she got on top of you, working on pulling off your shirt.

You hesitantly let her, feeling how eager she was. Nearly desperate as she got you undressed.

She threw your clothes to the floor, and you arched your back, letting her unclip your bra and throw it to the side before she worked on your pants.

You never felt insecure around Shoko. She always looked at your curves adoringly like you were a piece of art.

Laying there in the bed, Shoko slowly got up so she could undo her robe and let it drop to the floor as well.

She stood there for a moment, letting you look at her. The roundess of her breasts, soft pink nipples hard. She was rubbing her thighs together, soaked just as she thought about what she was going to do.

Licking her lips, she moved forward, spreading your legs apart.

You leaned back on her bed, head resting on her pillow and closed your eyes. A smile crept its way to her face as she pressed her lips against your leg.

Her teeth grazed against your inner thigh, causing you to shiver as she teased you. She trailed kisses up until she got towards your cunt.

She paused for a moment, building up the tension as she looked at you. A smirk crept its way to her face.

There were many things that she could do. She had a strap on, lots of toys she had that would make you scream with pleasure. And kinkier things like whips and restraints.

But for Shoko, there was nothing more intimate than this.

She clamped her hands on your thighs so you couldn't get away from her. She smiled, fangs still peaking out as she opened her mouth and ran her tongue across your slit.

You gasped, just as she expected. Shoko let out a groan, enjoying how sweet you tasted.

"Ieiri." You let out a sigh as she took her time, knowing exactly how to get you worked up as she teased your clit with the tip of her tongue.

As she felt you twitch, growing more aroused, she started to pick up her pace, eating you out like it was her last meal.

The side of your neck still throbbed in pain, yet it seemed to only add to the intensity of the pleasure.

She started spelling her name into your tight pussy. You cried out, gripping onto the sheets tight.

You became more restless, grinding and pushing your hips up against her as her fingers dug into your thighs. She left no inch of your cunt untouched.

Shoko groaned against you as she kept licking and kissing you, not bothering to come up for air for even a second. She kissed your wet pussy before she started to suck on your clit.

You cried out, hand slowly reaching out and pulling on her long brown hair hard as she started to fuck you with her tongue pushing against your tight entrance.

She knew her body like the back of her hand. She knew every spot that would get you closer to cum. Digging her nails into your thighs, she made sure not to break skin. Only doing it to keep you squirming around her mouth like a woman possessed.

"Iri!" You could barely speak, stammering as you gripped onto her hair tight. "I'm gonna - fuck! Yes!"

You screamed as you pulled her against you more, bucking your hips up. Your toes curled, and your eyes rolled back as you came.

She didn't know which she loved the taste of more, your blood or your pussy. Not a single drop went to waste, lapping up every drop before she gave you one last lick and pulled away.

Shoko smiled, finally letting you close your legs and allowing you to shift around the bed to get comfortable. You were still trembling like a leaf, dazed from your intense orgasm.

Her heart wasn't beating, yet this was the most alive that she'd ever felt. Watching your body shaking from the pleasure and unable to form a coherent sentence as you stared up at the ceiling in shock.

Even though she wanted to keep going, she didn't want to push you farther than she already had. So she climbed up and rolled onto the bed beside you, pulling your exhausted form close to her.

You nuzzled into her, and she kissed the top of your head as you closed your eyes. She kept her arm around your waist as she leaned back and got comfortable herself.

Poor thing, she thought to herself. You fell asleep so fast before she could even speak. Not that she minded, she had all the time in the world to speak with you now.

Shoko sighed as she grabbed and lit a cigarette, her free hand holding it and flicked it into the ashtray she kept on the nightstand by her bed. Her other hand gently rubbed your waist as you slept nuzzled against her side, head resting on her shoulder.

It was hard to adjust at first, with the constant pain. It was only soothed when she finally got some blood into her system, but it turned out to be worth it. She felt better than she ever has in her life. Like everything that had been holding her back was just a distant memory now.

And more importantly, she had you by her side. You were all hers, just like she's wanted since the day that she met you.

Now, all she wanted was to know who'd turned her. She didn't know whether or not she wanted to slap them or thank them.

Like it was sensing her thoughts, her phone started going off again. She brought it up to her ear, cigarette dangling between her lips and her other arm wrapped around your waist as she spoke.

"Hello?"

She rolled her eyes as an obnoxiously familiar voice filled her ear.

"I knew you'd transition well," the male said playfully when another one cut in as well.

"For a moment, we almost thought you were dead," the calmer one of the two added bluntly.

"Well, that's nice of you to come check." She said dryly, not surprised those two idiots didn't.

He snickered. "And ruin the surprise? We figured you'd want some alone time with your little doll first. You're welcome."

They were a pain in her ass, yet she wasn't surprised it was them that picked up on her true feelings for you. She'd been on dates before and had a few failed relationships. But they all paled in comparison to you.

Shoko was a selfish woman. She was aware of that. Hell, she wasn't a doctor because she wanted to help people. It was simply because she was good at the job.

It didn't help having two friends that fueled her bad habits. Keeping cigarettes and lighters on them for her nicotine addiction. They bought her as many drinks as her heart desires since she's always had the highest alcohol tolerance and drank often.

And now they've provided her with her most recent addiction.

[aishangotome]

Nokto Klein: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

A loud noise shattered the silence of the private room where we were alone. I hurriedly moved away from Nokto and looked towards the door--

Silvio: Yo, fox bastard. Ya in there?

The one who appeared, adorned with so many jewels that they made a loud jangling sound, was Benitoite's First Prince, Silvio.

Nokto: That's something you say while knocking on the door, not after kicking it down.

Silvio: Huh? Don't sweat the small stuff.

(As expected of the richest man on the continent...)

(I thought so the first time I met him, but he's a man of loud noises and flashy appearances.)

*flashback*

Emma: Would you like to take a look?

???: Huh? Are you talkin' to me, woman?

Emma: Yes. It seems you've been staring for quite a while.

???: Ha, if you're goin' to take up my time, ya better have somethin' that satisfies me.

*flashback over*

A memory from when we went on vacation to Benitoite to let the busy Nokto rest surfaced in my mind.

(I was just touching Nokto, so I feel kind of awkward...)

Seeing me like this and Nokto acting as if nothing had happened, Silvio seemed to understand everything and his expression clearly darkened.

Silvio: Don't get frisky the moment you arrive.

Nokto: Silvio, do you know the word "delicacy"?

Silvio: Doesn't matter. This is my territory. Behave yourselves a little.

Nokto: Yes, yes, this time I'm visiting as the King of Rhodolite. I'll be in your care.

(I want to disappear...)

Desperately trying to endure the urge to faint from embarrassment, I lift the hem of my dress to greet him.

Emma: Prince Silvio, it's been a while. Thank you for having us during our stay.

(This time, unlike back then, I'm meeting him as the future queen, so I have to be firm.)

I somehow tried to switch my mindset, but for some reason, Silvio gave me a blunt look---

Silvio: You really chose this common-lookin' woman, huh?

Emma: ...!

(W-well, it's true that I'm from a commoner's background, and I'm trying not to let my true self show...!)

I thought he was high-handed from the time we met in town, but because I'm trying to be a woman worthy of Nokto, Silvio's words subtly pierce my heart.

As I try to act unconcerned and evade the situation harmlessly, Nokto pulls me close by the waist.

Nokto: Don't be mean just because I have such a cute fiancée, okay?

Emma: Nokto...

Even in his casual tone, I can sense his concern for me, and my heart starts to race.

Silvio frowns with a truly disgusted look on his face.

Silvio: I just said what I thought.

Nokto: Hmm? I thought you were jealous.

Nokto, with a foxy smile on his face, suddenly brings his face close to mine as if he's about to kiss me.

Emma: Whoa, Nokto, that's a bit much...

(I know you're trying to throw Silvio off, but it's embarrassing!)

Silvio: If you show me any more of that weird stuff, I'll kick ya outta the castle!

Silvio: And you, don't blush so easily just 'cause he got close to yer face. Get a grip in three seconds!

Emma: D-don't be unreasonable!

Emma: Besides, it's Nokto, so it's not "just anything" to me.

Nokto: You're saying some pretty tempting things. You're good at making me happy.

Nokto: See, wasn't that lovey-dovey talk cute?

Silvio: I don't have time to listen to your nonsense.

Silvio: I can't stand watchin' your charade any longer. Let's get down to business.

Nokto: Oh, you mean tomorrow's Founding Festival party?

Silvio: If ya know, then stop showin' me that crap and listen!

Nokto: Sorry, sorry, but it's okay, right? Silvio was the one who slipped up first.

Silvio: Tch... By the way, will this woman also be attendin' the party?

Nokto: Of course, you're going too, right?

Emma: Yes. I would very much like to attend.

(Because our visit to Benitoite this time,)

(Officially, it's for attending this anniversary party--)

*flashback*

One day, with our departure for Benitoite imminent--

I was facing King Nokto in his office for a final meeting.

Nokto: Benitoite is an allied nation, so there's no need to be so wary,

Nokto: But since we're going on a diplomatic mission, we need a proper reason.

Nokto: Now that the three countries of Tanzanite, Achroite, and Ruby have formed an alliance,

Nokto: Visiting under the pretense of a vacation might make us seem frivolous.

Nokto: Benitoite has a flourishing trade and many people from other countries stay there...

Nokto: If we're seen as a king and queen gallivanting around while the continent is unstable,

Nokto: There's a possibility that groundless rumors will spread to Obsidian and Jade.

Emma: In that case, what would be the best course of action?

???: How about using this invitation?

Emma: Certainly, attending some kind of party would be the most natural--

Emma: Wait... Prince Clavis!?

Clavis suddenly appeared between Nokto and me, holding an envelope in his hand.

Nokto: ...Why are you casually joining the conversation?

Clavis: Good question. The answer is because you started talking where I am.

Nokto: You mean we were talking in the wrong place. Well, fine, but don't get in the way.

Clavis: Is that a royal order?

Nokto: You mean you're going to get in the way that much?

Clavis: Haha, that depends on my mood.

Nokto: ...Whatever.

Nokto swiftly took the envelope from Clavis's hand. It bore the national emblem of Benitoite and an unfamiliar crest.

Emma: What invitation is that?

Nokto: Do you remember the story about how I went to Benitoite for a short-term study abroad program?

Emma: Yes, of course.

(During his study abroad, he lived with a distant relative, a married couple of Rhodolite royal lineage, right?)

We also greeted the elderly couple during our previous vacation and stayed at their mansion.

Nokto: At that time, I had a tutor who taught me about Benitoite.

Nokto: I received an invitation to a founding anniversary party from the school where he works as a teacher.

Emma: A school's... founding anniversary party?

Clavis: Sounds fun, doesn't it? Just the word "school" makes it an exciting invitation. I wouldn't hesitate to attend.

Nokto: You be quiet for a bit.

Emma: Even though you had a connection with the teacher, why did you receive an invitation if you didn't attend the school, Nokto?

Nokto: Recently, I had a chance to talk with a nobleman who funds the school in Benitoite at a meeting I attended.

Nokto: I mentioned my tutor's name, and said I wanted to use their educational institutions as a reference for our country...

Nokto: I showed my interest in the school and steered the conversation towards getting invited to the party.

Emma: Wow... That worked out well.

Nokto: It's partly thanks to the fact that he's the type who likes to show off.

Nokto: Even if it's a small country, it's something to boast about that he has a connection with the king, right?

Emma: I see. But to have met such a nobleman by chance--

(—Wait, knowing Nokto, maybe...)

Emma: Was meeting that nobleman really a coincidence?

Nokto: You saw through me?

Nokto: Actually, I knew that nobleman would be attending the meeting from the beginning, and getting the invitation was also as planned.

Nokto: I thought I might need an excuse to go to Benitoite.

(Amazing... He was working with everything in sight.)

(With his negotiation skills to make things go his way, as expected of my fiancé--)

Clavis: "My fiancé is so wonderful and reliable... I love him, I adore him, I want to kiss him right now."

Emma: You're not mocking me right now, are you!?

Clavis: Haha, was it similar?

Emma: Not at all!

Nokto: Emma.

Emma: Nokto, say something too--

Nokto: You can kiss me anytime you want.

Emma: ...Could you tell me more about that founding anniversary party?

Nokto & Clavis: Are you embarrassed? / You're blushing?

Emma: Don't tease me, both of you!

*flashback over*

(--I remembered some extra things...)

Pulling myself together, I listen to Silvio's voice.

Silvio: I'll also be attendin' the anniversary party 'cause I personally fund the school. We'll head there together tomorrow.

Nokto: Okay, thanks.

Silvio: The real reason you came to my country at this time is probably 'bout the three-country alliance, right? Is there anythin' else?

(Oh... he knew... But Nokto doesn't seem surprised at all, as if he expected to be asked.)

Perhaps not all the nobles of Benitoite are aware of our purpose. Judging from Nokto's interactions so far, it might be that Silvio is particularly perceptive.

Nokto shrugged his shoulders in resignation.

Nokto: Ah, as expected, you saw through me.

Nokto: If I remember correctly, isn't that facility about to open?

(Huh...?)

Unfamiliar information came out of Nokto's mouth, and my heart began to race with unease.

Silvio: As always, you're quick to hear the news.

Nokto: A small country can't survive without being sensitive to information.

Silvio: You understand well.

Silvio: Whether it's money or anythin' else, fresh information is essential to gettin' your hands on it.

(What does that mean...? I haven't heard anything other than the founding anniversary party...)

Nokto: I have some good information about the facility. That's why I came to the castle to offer it to you, Silvio.

Silvio: Ha, I see. If you have a gift, I won't pry into unnecessary matters.

From the exchange with Silvio, I can see that Nokto really isn't fazed at all.

(And yet, I'm getting flustered just because something unexpected happened...)

I think I've become quite a bit more resilient compared to when I first met Nokto, but as I spend more time by his side as the future queen and become more involved in official duties, I've come to feel that I'm still immature.

(That's why I want to be careful not to become a burden to Nokto.)

As I'm renewing my resolve, Silvio turns around.

Silvio: We're done talkin'. I have other business to attend to, so I'll be goin'.

Silvio: --Oh, that's right. I'll throw a little welcome party for ya tonight, so come.

Nokto: My, how generous of you. Emma and I will attend.

Emma: Thank you, Prince Silvio.

Silvio: Yes, even if I say it's a small party, extravagance is the Benitoite way. Enjoy yourselves to the fullest.

Silvio shifts his gaze from me to Nokto and stares intently.

Silvio: But, be a little prepared.

Nokto: Hmm?

Silvio: You're not popular in my country, King Nokto.

Leaving behind an unsettling warning, Silvio left the guest room.

-

Around the time the setting sun sank below the windswept horizon and the curtain of night fell--

Benitoite, under the leadership of Prince Silvio, held a welcome party for the visiting King and future Queen of Rhodolite.

The finest alcohol, cuisine, music, hospitality, and the entire space were all extravagantly luxurious...

Nokto chuckled at me as I hurriedly covered my gaping mouth with my hand.

Nokto: You've been surprised by everything since you came to the castle.

Emma: Because everywhere I look, I see expensive things... I'm starting to get nervous in a different way.

Nokto: Shall I loosen you up?

Contrary to his seemingly considerate words, a mischievous smile played on Nokto's lips.

Emma: ...As long as it's within the bounds of common sense.

Nokto: What kind of things are outside the bounds?

Emma: That's...

Nokto: Your face is red.

Emma: Eh?

Nokto: Lewd.

Emma: I-it's different from what Nokto is thinking!?

Nokto: Yes, yes, indecent instead of lewd.

(It means the same thing even if you say it differently!?)

Nokto: So? Did that loosen you up?

Emma: Ah, now that you mention it... You could have loosened me up in a more normal way, though.

Nokto: But it was within the bounds of common sense, wasn't it?

Emma: Ugh... Thank you.

Nokto: You're welcome.

Pushing down the embarrassment that came in place of nervousness thanks to Nokto, I pick up my glass.

When I try the Benitoite liquor, a refreshing sweetness spreads in my mouth.

(Delicious...)

While sipping my drink, I casually look around and see the nobles cheerfully chatting and enjoying the food.

(I wonder what Silvio meant by those words. So far, there's nothing strange about the party itself...)

Emma: Hey, Nokto. Do you have any idea what Silvio meant by what he said earlier?

Nokto: All I can say is, there are a few things that come to mind.

It's true that Nokto was a womanizer before we met, and there were always rumors about his affairs.

But it shouldn't be to the extent that it would earn him a bad reputation even in other countries...

Besides, if it's Nokto, he should have already sensed that he's unpopular with some people in Benitoite.

And the reason for that is--.

(Is he not telling me on purpose because he doesn't want me to know...?)

(Or is he trying not to worry me about unnecessary things during the party?)

Benitoite Noble: King Nokto, Lady Emma, welcome to Benitoite.

Nokto: Thank you for the warm welcome. Thanks to you, we are having a pleasant evening.

Nokto: As expected, your country has a fine selection of alcohol.

(I'll think about it and ask him later. I have to focus on socializing now.)

I consciously switched my mindset and continued to interact with the important people of Benitoite.

The atmosphere of the party was no different from any other I had attended.

(But... what is it?)

Even though I thought it was the same, I suddenly felt a sense of discomfort that I couldn't quite put into words.

To find out what it was, I looked around just like I did before--

(Ah...)

-

Nokto: How long are you planning to stay dressed like that?

.

.

.

Chapter 2 Premium Story

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[peaceoutofthepieces]

If you're still taking Heartstopper hug prompts, I'd love to see either the desperate hug or the hug you don't deserve. Thank you!

i'm sorry this took so long!! and i kinda forgot what the prompt was and it just kinda got shoehorned in at the end. whoops. i had this idea for a long time and i ended up thinking it just kinda fit with this, so i hope you enjoy!

18. tight and desperate 28. the hug you don’t deserve

Charlie didn't even know how the argument had started. He certainly hadn't intended it, but maybe he should have predicted Nick’s reaction, should have known where the line of conversation would go. Maybe a part of him had wanted it, had been provoking Nick with subconscious purpose. 

The thing was he couldn't have expected this reaction, because Nick’s go-to wasn't to argue. Not with Charlie. They'd had their fair share, but it took Nick time to lose his patience and respond to Charlie's anger or frustration. This time it was all the more confusing because Charlie hadn't been angry. He was fairly sure his tone had been free of spite, that there was no edge, that Nick shouldn't have suspected a double meaning or hidden barb, because there wasn't any. 

Charlie had made a throwaway comment about Nick missing his local chippy when he went to uni, and Nick had set his food down with a clatter and said, “Do we have to do this again?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't want to argue about uni.”

“I wasn't trying to argue,” Charlie protested, still trying to keep his voice gentle. 

Nick visibly bit back a response. “It just usually ends up that way.”

Charlie wanted to say that wasn't his fault, but he swallowed the urge. He wasn't trying to argue; it just always seemed to be a sensitive subject. But it had already gotten as bad as it could get, when Charlie had thought for days he'd lost Nick, and they'd worked it out. They wouldn't let that happen again. Charlie, if anything, wanted to start emphasising that by making the idea feel normal. Nick would leave, and they would be apart, and Charlie was growing to accept it. But it was clear neither of them felt normal about it, still. 

Nick seemed to intentionally soften, taking a moment to lower his shoulders and smooth his expression before talking to Charlie more gently. “I'd just rather not talk about it. I just want to have a chill night with takeaway and a film.”

“That's fine,” Charlie said, but the thought kept nudging at him, and he kept going. “But I don't want you to feel like you can't talk about it. I know I—I got upset and blew up at you about it before. But we worked through it. And now I'm more scared if…if we keep avoiding it, eventually you'll just want to avoid me.” Nick’s eyes flickered, and Charlie pressed on before things did stumble into argument territory. “When you're at uni you'll definitely want to talk about it then, and I don't want that to put you off talking to me. Or make you feel like you shouldn't be happy there, in case I'm upset here. I do just want you to be happy, Nick.”

It was more earnestness than Nick had been looking for or than the conversation likely invited, but it felt suddenly important to express, to have Nick know. Nick was usually the one giving Charlie these emotional reassurances. It was only fair that Charlie get to be the one throwing Nick off now and again. 

But Nick wasn't thrown off, or openly besotted with Charlie's speech. He looked away entirely. “You know I'm not happy all the time?”

Charlie blinked. His heart thudded. Of course he knew that. No one was happy all the time; he knew that better than anyone. Why was that Nick’s response now, though? Was he unhappy right now? Was he saying he wasn't always happy with Charlie? “I'd think you were crazy if you were,” Charlie decided to respond, still light and reassuring and hopefully leaving room for Nick to elaborate. 

“I wasn't happy when we were apart before.”

Nick looked at him again, and Charlie's stomach twisted. They hadn't had this conversation in a while. It was always there—it would never go away—but it wasn't persistent anymore. Charlie knew it linked into uni talk. He'd been waiting for it to come up, truthfully. 

That didn't make him any happier about it.

“This won't be anything like that, though,” Charlie said softly. 

“Won't it? I'll still only get to talk to you on the phone, unless I travel hours to see you, and neither of us can know how often we'll get to do that.”

Well. Charlie supposed he couldn't argue with that. “But it'll be different. We'll both be kept busy and you won't be stuck home, worrying about me. You'll be able to actually have fun.” Charlie would be doing his A-levels, and without Nick and Tori, and decidedly not having fun, but he would manage. He had his friends, and he had Geoff, and despite how much he'd rather not have so much of his parents, sometimes, they wouldn't let him die, so there was that. 

It wouldn't do them any good to mention that now. Nick was already clearly struggling with something, and the last thing Charlie wanted was to add to it. There was no need to make Nick feel guilty. Again. 

“I always worry about you,” Nick said quietly. Charlie's face dropped, and Nick shook his head. “Not because I think you can't manage or because I don't trust you or anything. It's not just because you've been ill. It's like…like how I worry about Mum.”

That piqued Charlie's curiosity, immediately distracting him from the initial zip of anger. He reached over and took Nick’s hand. “Can you explain that a bit more?”

Nick glanced at the coffee table, where their takeout lay abandoned. “The food’s gonna be cold,” he mumbled. “Sorry, I shouldn't have started this while we were eating.”

Charlie was not about to remind Nick that a moment ago, he'd been mad at Charlie for ‘starting it’. Nick already looked so downhearted; there was no need to start an entirely different argument. Which was why Charlie didn't rebuke him for using the s-word, either. The best tactic at this point was to accept the diversion. “It should still be fine. How about we finish it and then we can go up to your room?”

Nick smiled, grateful for the easy shift. Charlie pretended not to notice Nick sneaking glances at him as they ate. He managed to mechanically make his way through his meal while distracting himself thinking over what Nick said. It almost sounded like Nick was saying he didn't think he'd be happy, going to uni. But that couldn't be right. He'd been nothing but excited since deciding he wanted to go to Leeds. He'd been a bit quiet lately, but not so out of character that Charlie had been concerned. Maybe he should have been paying more attention. 

Nick finished eating before him, but stayed sitting quietly, sipping at his drink. When Charlie set his own empty dish down and rose, offering Nick his hand, Nick smiled adoringly up at him. He took Charlie's hand and stood, only to immediately bundle Charlie in a hug. 

Charlie huffed, half-amused and half-concerned, and tucked his arms around Nick's waist. “What's this for?” he asked quietly. 

“Can't I just hug you?” Nick mumbled into his hair. 

Charlie simply squeezed him in response. 

After a moment, Nick continued. “I just—I really love you.”

Charlie pulled back to look at him. His concern was getting a little louder, but Nick didn't look upset. His gaze was full of its usual warmth. Charlie squeezed his sides again. “I love you too.” He leaned in to peck Nick's lips, and was granted another smile. “Let's clean this up and go cuddle.”

Nick obliged with enthusiasm. By the time they were lying in Nick’s room, Nick seemed to have shook off whatever he'd been feeling. He lay contently on Charlie's chest, and Charlie was loath to break it. 

But he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been missing something, and now that it had creeped into the light, he couldn't ignore it. Not if Nick was unhappy because of it. 

“What did you mean before?” Charlie asked, because that seemed like the easiest way to bring it back up. 

“Hm?” Nick sounded sleepy. Charlie stopped playing with his hair and instead let his hand lay there, cupping Nick’s head. 

“When you said that you worry about me like you worry about your mum.”

There was a small pause. Charlie wasn't sure if it was because Nick was sleepy or because he was delaying responding. “Oh. Sorry, that probably doesn't make any sense.”

“Can you make it make sense? Give an example, maybe?”

Nick adjusted, curling more onto his front—and more onto Charlie—and tightening his hold around Charlie's waist before easing it again. “I dunno. It's like, how you worry about anyone you love. And it just…feels like it would be worse, further away. I know me being here wouldn't stop it, but I just hate the thought of someone I love struggling or getting sick or anything when I'm not there. It's not that I don't think you can manage without me—it's not really anything to do with you to begin with. Anything can just happen. Something could happen to Nellie or Henry, or Mum could get sick, or there could be an accident and any one of you could—”

“Nick,” Charlie cut him off. “Hey.”

He cupped Nick's cheek, urging him to look up. When Nick only pressed his face closer to Charlie's neck, Charlie shifted back and slid his body down until they were lying face to face, keeping Nick held in his hands. 

Nick's eyes were vaguely misty. He blinked a few times quickly while looking at Charlie, then he focused somewhere around Charlie's chin. “Sorry. I told you it doesn't make any sense.”

Charlie shook his head. “No. Like you said, I think everyone does worry about that sort of thing.” Charlie was fairly chronically anxious, so he would know. But when those thoughts came to him, they were some of the more fleeting. Charlie was able to brush them off as irrational much more easily than the thoughts about how awful he himself was, etcetera. This didn't seem like it would be helpful to share; it sounded like more than a fleeting thought to Nick. “Do you think about that a lot, though?”

Nick shrugged as best he could while lying down. 

“Is that why you've been down lately? You're thinking about…being worried a lot when you're away?” Charlie understood that, to an extent. Surprisingly, it wasn't one of the things he felt the need to have in his control, because he knew it was impossible. Like Nick said, his presence or his will wouldn't do anything to change or stop an accident or illness. Charlie had always been aware of that, and that made the lack of control easier to accept.

But he knew how terrifying that lack could feel. 

But Nick said, “No. I mean, it doesn't help. It's crossed my mind a lot. But I haven't been—I'm not obsessing over it, or anything.”

Charlie's lips pursed. He couldn't help it. 

“Not—” Nick’s eyes widened. “God, I didn't mean—fuck, I'm making a right mess of this.” He covered his face with a hand, tilting his chin down. 

“It's fine,” Charlie said softly. “I know you didn't mean anything by it.” Gently, he curled his hand around Nick’s and brought it down, laying their interlocked fingers in the small gap between them. Nick gave him a little smile, hesitant and apologetic. Charlie smiled back, equally unsure. “But if it's not this…is there something else?”

Nick's eyes flickered away again. He twitched his shoulders in a semblance of a shrug. 

Charlie slid closer to him, letting Nick's weight pull him in, the dip in the mattress widening to hold them both together. Charlie slotted a knee between Nick’s and pushed a hand back into Nick's hair. He scratched at Nick's scalp and tipped their heads together, until his forehead rested on Nick’s and Nick’s breath brushed his lips. 

It took one beat, two, for Nick to settle under the embrace. His body relaxed even as his hand curled in Charlie's hoodie and his eyes closed. Charlie stayed silent. Pushing Nick wouldn't do any good, but Charlie could always offer this. Nick bloomed under affection; nothing seemed to make him more comfortable than Charlie's touch, so Charlie offered it as frequently and freely as he could. Maybe it wouldn't make Nick talk to him—he didn't want to make Nick talk to him—but hopefully it would remind him that he could, because Charlie was here and he loved him and he wasn't going anywhere, regardless of how much distance might separate them. Hopefully it would make him feel safe enough to try. 

Eventually, Nick spoke in a whisper. “It's not about your illness. But I have been thinking a lot about what it was like, when you were in the clinic.”

Charlie squashed down his unease. “What about it?”

“It just…of course it sucked because I was worried about you and our contact was so limited, but it—it mostly sucked being by myself.”

It was hard to read Nick's expression, even when Charlie pulled back an inch to look. Charlie frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nick's eyes fluttered open, but he kept his gaze down to where he was fiddling with the string on Charlie's (Nick’s) hoodie. “It was the first time I'd really been without you since we met, and I'd forgotten what it was like.” He looked up at Charlie. “You know the first time Mum met you, she said I was more myself around you?”

Charlie hadn't known that. He couldn't say it surprised him, exactly—he'd known from the start that Nick was different around him—but it was nice to think Sarah had not only noticed, but approved so early on. Charlie just shook his head in response to Nick. 

“I couldn't figure out what she meant,” Nick said, and it sounded like an admission. “Not because I didn't think I was different around you—I knew you were different—but because I didn't know how she could tell it was more me. I didn't even know what that was.”

This wasn't what Charlie had expected. The thought that Nick would be worried over something like this would never have even crossed Charlie's mind. He knew Nick struggled in the early stages of their relationship—who didn’t, when discovering their sexuality—but aside from that, Nick had always seemed so thoroughly Nick. He was gentle and open and silly and sporty and strong in his beliefs, even when he doubted himself. He'd said it with such confidence before. I like who I am. I like my life.

Charlie played a factor in that, surely, but his distance wouldn't make that much of a difference. Would it? 

“I do,” Charlie said softly. “I know. You're wonderful, Nick.”

“I wasn't, though, was I?” Nick cut in before Charlie could give the rest of what he'd planned to say. “Before I met you, I…it was like I was just being pulled along. I was just existing. I wasn't this great, lovely person you make me out to be.”

Charlie had no idea what to think of that, never mind how to respond. All that left his mouth was a sad, wobbly, “Nick.”

He hadn't known Nick thought of himself that way. He'd known, especially at the beginning, that Nick was harder on himself than he ought to be, and it wasn't just about struggling to come out. Even since before they'd gotten together, he seemed to harbour guilt. From what Charlie could remember, Nick hadn't even been a present witness to his mistreatment—and Charlie would remember Nick, he was sure. But Nick had heard the gossip and the insults and, in his opinion, hadn't done enough to counteract it.

In Charlie's opinion, no one had, and that had never been Nick's fault or responsibility. But he understood where Nick was coming from. 

That didn't change how Charlie saw him, though. It didn't change how Nick was. 

“I know what you mean,” Charlie eventually continued, when Nick did nothing but breathe heavily and blink sadly at him. “But listen to what you're saying. You weren't bad then, and that wasn't you. Even your mum could see that.” Charlie poked Nick's chest. “But you've had me for over two years now, and you've done nothing but prove how great and lovely you are. You can't fake that, and it won't disappear when we're apart. I know who you are, Nick, and you're my favourite person.”

Nick's eyes grew misty, and he burrowed into Charlie's chest before he could start to cry. Charlie wrapped his arms around Nick's shoulders and head and cradled him close, pressing a kiss to his crown and stroking the hair at his nape. 

“I didn't let you see how bad it was, though,” Nick whispered, his voice choppy and wet. “Char, it made me miserable. It felt like—like I was sleepwalking, and I couldn't do anything and nothing could reach me when you weren't there. And I know, I know, I was only that miserable because I was so worried but Char, you don't understand. You went there and you made things better for yourself and you've grown so, so much in the past year and a half and I just—I don't know how to do that. I don't know if I can do that on my own.”

Charlie absorbed that, then again pulled back and urged Nick to look up at him, holding Nick’s face in his hands. “I think that's exactly why you need to do it,” he said softly. 

Nick sniffed, hard, but didn't protest. 

“And you won't be on your own,” Charlie continued. “We might not be ten minutes from each other, but that doesn't mean I won't be there for you. I'd never leave you on your own, Nick. Neither will Tara and Darcy, or any of our other friends.”

“You can't be sure of that, though.”

“I know I can't promise you things won't change. But I'm not going anywhere,” Charlie enunciated each word, leaning closer until they were nose to nose. “You at least have to believe that.”

Nick's eyes flit back and forth between Charlie's. He seemed to be battling with what he wanted to say. Eventually he came out with, “I don't want to become someone you don't like.”

Charlie's heart twisted, but alongside it was a twinge of relief. They were getting to the root of the problem, and it was much more manageable than Charlie had thought. Charlie had enough experience with this kind of self doubt to know it could be worked through, especially with the right support, and Charlie would do everything in his power to provide that. 

“I'm fairly sure that's impossible,” Charlie said. “But do you want to tell me how you think that could happen?”

Nick closed his eyes again, and his shoulders shifted in another weak shrug. “I don't know. Look at what's happening right now. It's selfish, I don't deserve you comforting me when I'm the one who's leaving and you should—”

Charlie cut him off by enveloping him in another hug with a loud shush. It felt like they'd been hugging for an hour by now, and still every time Nick wrapped around him it seemed tighter, more desperate. Charlie didn't know if he was failing that miserably at easing Nick's concerns or if this was Nick's natural need for touch. 

“You're allowed to ask for help, Nick.” Charlie spoke into Nick's hair. “I never want you to pretend you're not upset because you think I might be. Okay? Please.”

Nick murmured something like an apology, and Charlie shushed him again. “I don't want how we are to change,” Nick mumbled. “If the few times we get to see each other it starts to just feel awkward or sad and it'll be just like when Dad—”

Nick cut himself off abruptly, but Charlie had heard it. And here, he realised, was the root. He mentally kicked himself. He should have seen that connection a mile away.

They didn't talk about it often. Nick had ranted to Charlie about his dad a few times, after they'd met up in Paris and their debacle of a dinner and when he failed to show up for holidays as promised, though Nick always said it was expected. Charlie knew his feelings about his father were complicated, and that anger and disappointment held a lot of that space, but he'd always thought it best to let Nick bring it up on his own terms. Unless he was mentioned, Charlie avoided asking, and perhaps that had been a mistake. 

He hugged Nick tighter, more desperately, to give himself time to work out what to say. 

He settled on an apology. “I'm sorry, Nick. I should have known what this was about.”

Nick's reply came slow, and his voice was thick. “I don't even think I knew.” He took a heaving breath. “God, that's pathetic.”

“No,” Charlie argued immediately. “It's not. You're not. It makes perfect sense, Nick.”

Nick gave a wobbly laugh. “D'you think you can explain it to me then?”

Charlie thought he probably could if he tried, but he wasn't sure it was his place. For a while he just held Nick in silence, letting them both think it over. Periodically, he pressed a kiss to whatever part of Nick he could reach, or rubbed up and down his back, or scratched gently at his head. Anything to remind Nick he was there and he understood and he loved him. 

Eventually, Charlie got the nerve to ask, “Do you think you have, like, separation anxiety?”

Nick took a moment, Charlie hoped to consider this and not because he was upset. “Like what some kids have when they start school and stuff?”

“Yeah. But I don't think it's just kids,” Charlie added quickly. “There was this girl at the clinic with me. The main thing she struggled with was being apart from her parents at the start. It wasn't why she was there, but it was part of it. She told me she even had a few panic attacks about it. She lost one of her grandparents, when she was really young. Then she had this intense fear of her parents dying every time they were away from her. It never completely left her. She just got better at managing it.”

Nick was quiet for so long Charlie thought he'd gone too far and Nick wasn't going to respond anymore. When he did, it was a small, quiet, “Oh.”

Charlie steeled himself. “So it makes sense. If…your dad leaving and things changing so much between you. If that was something that really affected you, it makes sense you'd worry about other people you love leaving.”

“It isn't…you don't think that's silly, or childish?”

Charlie shook his head adamantly, despite the fact Nick was still pressed against him and wouldn't see the gesture. Charlie knew he would feel it, but he still said, “No, Nick. It's not silly at all. And like you said, everyone worries about the people they love. People only think this is childish because children haven't learned how to hide it, so it's more obvious in them.”

Nick absorbed this. Charlie hated not being able to see his face, but he didn't want to push things. He wanted to provide Nick with comfort in the form Nick was comfortable with. It helped that he could hear and feel Nick's breaths, and could tell that they'd steadied. It wasn't a simple thing to take in, but it had seemed to almost settle Nick, more than panic him. 

“Honestly,” Nick murmured, “I think me having some kind of anxiety does make sense. And this…fits.”

Charlie squeezed Nick tight and ignored the ache that caused in him. “You don't have to figure it out or understand it right now. I could be completely wrong. But whatever it is, we can look into it together. If you want?”

Nick smushed his face to Charlie's neck. “I really love you.”

Charlie smiled. “I really love you too.”

Nick was the one to pull back this time. His eyes were a little red, and there was a dry tear-track down one cheek, but the mist over his expression had cleared. If not happy, he seemed more at ease now. “I think it would help,” he said. “To look into something. Maybe if I understand better it won't…I can stop it from bothering me so much.”

Charlie tried to tamp down his pride, but he was sure it shone through. “I think so.” He nudged Nick's nose with his own, uncaring it was cold and damp. “Whatever you need, I'll be here.”

Nick looked at him for a long moment, less in doubt, Charlie thought, and more just to look. To remind himself this was real and true, at least for now. Slowly, he smiled. 

“Yeah,” Nick said. “I know.”

[je-suis-problematique]

It's been a while since any of us wrote an update on here so.... Yeah, we're still alive, just extremely drained. We mostly finalized the moving process, picked up all of our things from our ex's place and settled in our new apartment kind of successfully. It still feels really lonely and empty and our new debit card doesn't work internationally for some reason so we can't even resubscribe to Netflix or Disney+ to have shit to watch during downtime so we're bored and understimulated most of the time. We're getting our new TV on Sunday so at least that's moving along but we'll have to wait before we can play with our friend again because we'll need to get a card that DOES work for international transactions. We also ended up misplacing and then completely losing our ID during the moving process somehow so we had to go ask for a new one and it won't be here until MAYBE the end of the month so we can't go to the post office and ask for a prepaid Visa or anything like that because they need your ID to give you a card which is utter bullshit if you ask me.

No energy whatsoever for anything, all of our spoons keep going on Important Tasks like various medical appointments that we have and meetings and chores and such. We WANT to write and draw but we just don't feel like it, all we really want to do is sleep until we feel better. Been struggling with bad urges to SH or buy alcohol/drugs again and nobody really gets it, we just keep being told not to do it because it's "not worth it" or whatever and we logically understand that substance abuse and SH are BAD but nothing else brings us any form of relief, so here we fucking are.

We started taking our sleeping pills pretty early at around 8 PM because being awake is a chore in and of itself now. We used to take our meds at as late as 1 AM most nights but we don't see a reason to stay awake that late these days when we have virtually nothing fun we can do to unwind. We're hoping that once we get a card that works internationally we can pay for all of the services that kept us occupied before we moved out but it will probably take some time to happen and until then we'll just suffer I guess. We imagined we'd feel better after moving out but we just don't, we feel just as bored and empty and tired and frustrated as before, the only difference being is that now we're sober and also live away from our ex.

I know that we shouldn't relapse but drugs seem very appealing right now if I'm being completely honest.

– Corvo

[lunarharp]

er... extreme amount of dragon age: the veilguard scribbles to soothe my heart🐦‍⬛💀

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Had an ADHD assessment a few years ago and the fuckwit that assessed me said, as a direct quote, "You're too smart to have ADHD." Like that's not any type of paraphrasing, that stupid fucking statement is burned in my brain forever and has been since I heard it.

I talked to my psychiatrist about getting a referral to a different psychologist for assessment, and she agreed and sent it in.

Today I got a call that said they don't agree that I need reassessment, and I'm welcome to pursue it elsewhere, but they won't provide reassessment. Which is just.

I don't even know where to start with that one. I just needed to get it out. I'm so tired.

[crashthegates]

save yourself i'll hold them back makes me feel emotions previously only known by shrimp

[wishmkr-jirachi]

y'ever feel nostalgic for objectively worse times. why does that happen

[sukunasweetheart]

Being the bane of sukunas existence as you're his girlfriend because you act like a perverted old man around him... he kinda digs it tho, its mildly hilarious and he doesn't dislike the unhinged attention (he tries to be so lowkey about it)

Every once in a while, you'll caress his behind or fondle his big boobily man breasts, the same way he does to you. he was only stunned at first - now he is completely unphased by your sneaky little hands.

he texts you, asking you what you want for dinner, and he's not surprised when the answer is "i want you oiled up and naked in bed by the time i get home". then he just replies with "making pasta"

Big obnoxious smacking noises when you kiss him all over, and sukuna just lets you be, he'll be sitting on the couch turning the tv on and here you come, smooching his cheek. sometimes, its the top of his head, other times, its his forehead or neck. if you do it too much though, you'll get covered with his bite marks in return.

when sukuna gets up to go to the toilet, you ask him if you can hold his peepee while he takes a piss, bc you saw a funny tiktok talking about it... he gives you a silent judgmental stare as he closes the door on your face. but behind it, he lets out the tiniest snort and shakes his head bc the idea of it is so ridiculous.

one time when you go outdoor camping with him you genuinely accidentally stumble close to sukuna who is taking a leak in the forest bush area and he catches you staring from behind as he's buttoning himself back up. and then he's chasing you down while you're screaming that it was an accident and that you only heard him peeing and didn't actually see anything. (not that you don't know what it looks like, anyway.)

when he's sweaty after a workout or some physical exertion, you'll definitely be approaching him deviously, talking about some "covered in flavour" type of bullshit... he'll push your face away and head into the shower but his ears are flushed with red.

just... sukuna who will let u mack on him endlessly bc he secretly doesn't hate the doting 🥹🥹🥹 and if you're not being obnoxiously lewd or affectionate?? thats when he knows something's up...

and obviously, every now and then you'll say something that makes him know that you're not just lusting over his body.

during a walk back home on a summer afternoon, you point upwards while holding his hand and looking up.

"sukuna, look. you're in the sky."

he reluctantly looks up, expecting some sort of dick shaped cloud or something like that. but there are no clouds in sight.

"what is there to look at?" he asks, quizzically.

"the colour, silly. when the sun's still setting, the sky always gets like this, around the same time everyday. the pretty pinkish colour, like your hair."

he turns silent and observes the sky for a minute. you call him silly, as if it's an everyday thing that you compare a person with the literal sky.

"it's my favourite time of the day..." you mumble, just barely audible to his ears. and something about the way you stand there, and speak so softly, makes you look so pretty to him. "i'll always think of you when the sun is setting."

"oh- but i think of you everyday regardless, i suppose."

he already knows that. he already knows you love him. why does he feel so flushed right now?

"alright, i get it. enough. let's continue home," he urges you, holding your hand tighter. you follow him down the street, like a puppy.

life couldn't feel more at peace right now, with your fingers interlocked with his, listening to you hum your favourite song on the way home, the street now covered with the orange light of the sunset.

"any ideas for dinner?" he asks, a few minutes after some silence.

"mmm..."

oh, he regrets asking the question now, fully knowing what's coming.

"i want your tatas in my mouth, please."

"tatas?" sukuna's asks with furrowed brows.

after bursting into laughter at the way he said it, you attempt to think up an actual food you want for dinner.

"...just for tonight." sukuna mutters.

"huh?"

"don't ask me again, i might change my mind."

"wait- really?"

let's just say, your mouth had a taste of heaven for the first time that night.

[claudiadpdl]

.

[skibasyndrome]

Hey :) I’m gonna go for ‘I’m just afraid’ from the prompts list (no pressure though).

Thank you so much for sending in a prompt, Helen 💜 I already wrote something for the phrase, but I decided to just do another version as well, hope that's alright :)

Simon's fingers feel warm and soft where they're clasped around Wille's. It's what he tries to focus on, Simon's touch, steady, gentle, grounding. Simon is here with him, that's all that counts. Wille takes a deep breath. Simon bumps their shoulders together when they step into a dimly lit hallway. "Are you okay?" he asks Wille, tugging on his hand once, bringing the two of them to a halt. Wille knows his nod is unconvincing, especially when Simon unlinks their hands and rubs his upper arm instead. "It's a little stupid," Wille starts. He regrets painting his nails, the urge to bite them is stronger than it's been in a while. He opts for digging his nails into his palm instead. "I'm just... afraid I suppose." Simon's laugh is loud, bright and eternally comforting. He peers up at Wille with raised eyebrows and a teasing glint in his eyes. "Yeah?" Wille hums, trying to hold back a bashful smile. It does sound more than a little stupid said out loud. And less heavy. "You should be, they invited you just so they could have someone to be meant to, you know." Wille groans and buries his face in Simon's shoulder. Simon shakes with laughter. But after another moment, he presses a kiss to Wille's head.

"It's going to be fine," he promises, his voice quieter, gentler. Wille lets out a noise of dissent.

"Are you sure they don't still hate me?" he asks. He's been putting off seeing Simon's friends again. Or maybe they've put off seeing him again. Who knows at this point, but it's been too long and it's weird and it feels like it's not nothing.

Both hands on Wille's cheeks, Simon pulls him up. He makes sure Wille meets his eyes before he kisses him once, short and sweet. And maybe, maybe, that makes it all a little more okay. When Simon pulls away, he reaches for Wille's hand again and pulls him further along.

"Rosh might," he says over his shoulder. "But you've got all night to win her over again."

Send me one of these prompts for a short lil story 💜