#it a point to avoid dragging anyone else down with him even if it means sacrificing his own happiness or potential shot at a more fulfilling

[designernishiki]

bro kiryu is a terrible parent. he may be happiest when he's surrounded by the kids at the orphanage but what kind of genuine happiness has he given THEM? the dude provides them no stability and haruka is the one that actually looked after them the whole time while he runs off to fix up the tojo again and again. it's better that he stays away from them. even kiryu finally sees that. it's why he chose to do what he did at the end of 6. i hope he continues to leave them the hell alone.

park mirei is that you????

I really don’t think it’s that simple. I don’t think he’s a bad parent and I don’t think he’s a perfectly good one either. I think some of the things that make him a “bad” parent are actually his fault, while other things haven’t been, and are instead more of an inevitable product of the shady world him and haruka both were born into.

TLDR: it’s literally factually incorrect to say he didn’t/barely raised his kids and instead just left haruka to do it (most of 2007-2011 he was fully present and solely devoted to raising them, no other job, no other intentions), and he absolutely has done a lot for them and their happiness. however, he’s made some bad choices as well and has his fair share of flaws as a parent. most importantly, his past does tend to find him in one way or another regardless of what he does, which is not something that’s easy to solve. taking himself out of the picture hurts the kids tremendously, while staying in the picture potentially endangers/hinders the kids. I can’t say what the “right” thing to do would be, because it’s not black and white. all I can say for sure is that he did have an important and positive impact on their childhoods, and they care about him just as much as he cares about them.

(more in depth version below)

the idea that he hasn’t done anything for his kids and didn’t actually raise them is something I wholeheartedly disagree with and is just factually untrue. before he starts getting threatened and manipulated by various groups/people to get him to leave, for several years (most of 2007-2011) he was a caring parent who devoted all of his time and effort to raising those kids and it shows from how much they love and miss him when he’s gone, and in the personal problems he helps each of them with whenever he can in y3. On top of love in general, he provides them with stability, a sense of family and home, and helps some of the more traumatized kids regain the ability to trust and overcome survivor’s guilt. he’s responsible for the years of those kids’ lives they would almost undoubtedly all consider the best of their childhoods. “what kind of happiness has he given them?” a whole damn lot, frankly.

kiryu never goes back to deal with shit in the tojo clan fully voluntarily. it’s basically always because something is threatening the orphanage and the kids’ wellbeing, or because there are people he cares about in the clan, which makes for a lot of potential issues but– considering he’s not heartless and can’t just turn off the bonds he has with certain people– can’t be avoided, considering the closest people he had to family were yakuza/yakuza-adjacent, and cutting all of them (that he has left) off completely isn’t as easy as you make it seem. when daigo– who’s like a son to him in his own right– gets shot and very nearly dies in y3, no shit he’s gonna be concerned. and he’s deeply conflicted at first on what to do (or not do) about it. it’s really really really not as black and white as him being a good person or a bad person for being dragged back into clan ordeals– much of the time it’s not his fault at all. by all accounts he feels guilty and horrible for his past endangering the kids, and it’s a HUGE recurring theme/conflict that contributes heavily to his distancing in y5, and further distancing in y6.

HOWEVER. he has absolutely made some iffy choices and I’d never say he’s a perfect parent. for one, I definitely think haruka was allowed to be more parentified than she should’ve been– he needed the extra help, considering one adult raising that many kids isn’t easy, but he should’ve gotten that help via employing another adult (I was hoping mikiyo from y3 would do this, but he doesn’t get mentioned after y3 for whatever reason sadly), not relying on her for more responsibility than a kid should have.

moreover, despite her parentification, there’s several times where he makes huge decisions for haruka (and the kids in general to some extent) without her input / against her wishes, and recklessly puts himself in grave danger despite having kids who rely on him to take into consideration. it absolutely baffled me at the beginning of y6 to see that there wasn’t any real adult put in kiryu’s place while he was in prison, and that it’d just been the older kids seemingly who acted as caretakers for the household. that was a horrible oversight and I think he should’ve known better– yeah, he didn’t have much time to find someone to fill the role, but he was in contact with haruka and he could’ve had her get help from one of kiryu’s friends to find someone. there were definitely options and I’m not gonna make any excuses there. he’s not infallible, no doubt.

Shit gets really complicated when it comes to him leaving the way he does a number of times. He does it in the hopes that it protects the kids from his past that keeps springing up and endangering their futures, but the issue with this is that BECAUSE he did, in fact, lovingly raise these kids for the most fundamental years of their lives and become their father figure, ripping himself out of their lives can’t be good for them– especially considering they’re orphans who have already had parents ripped from their lives and undoubtedly have abandonment issues as it is. this is terribly complicated and doesn’t have a black or white answer at all– leaving them has the huge emotional repercussions I just mentioned, and staying potentially endangers them and their futures. there is no easy way to slice it, and even the best parent on earth would be torn if put in that scenario.

personally I can’t help but hope he gets to reunite with his family, as I know they’d want that as much as he would; but it’s for the best at this point that they don’t have to fully rely on him and him alone. kiryu needs other adults to lean on in his life, and so do the kids. I think the kids are capable of this– of building new bonds and broader support systems– but kiryu has got a ways to go.

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Astarion.

I started playing bg3 and i have it bad for this vampiric menace of a man.

misc character masterlist

Warnings: blood drinking, he’s a vampire so yeah

1. He’s basically a cat but gods forbid you tell him that.

I have a tortie and let me tell ya, she is the sassiest animal I’ve ever met. This cat will climb into the closet just high enough that the dogs can see her but can’t reach her. She will jump into the counter and stare at me because she knows she’s not allowed up there. She will bat at the screen in the window until it pops open and she can escape. But jokes on you! she doesn’t actually escape, she just goes to the back door and meows until someone lets her in.

Anyways this is exactly how Astarion is. He’s sassy but hides it as being a witty nobleman when he’s really just being the sass master. He will do things purely to get a reaction out of people i.e. when he attacked you the first time you met. There was no need to try and pull one over on you like that but he did it anyways because he can. If you get too close to Gale (aka talk to him), he will pout and give you the cold shoulder because gale ‘is such a bore and I’m obviously better company than that, darling.’

He will make the biggest scene if he feels like your attention is being pulled away from him. Oh you’re talking to Shadowheart by the fire later than usual? He’s glowering at your back from his tent until you look over your shoulder at him. When you make eye contact, he’s going to roll his eyes and huff as he throws open the tent flaps. Shadowheart chuckles under her breath because she knows exactly what’s happening.

The longer you’ve known each other, the bolder he gets. He’ll add more each time. At first it’s just the staring and huffing. It moves to glaring at your companion and then waltzing over to you so he say something sassy like “I am not your mother. I should not have to drag you to bed each night.” When that stops getting the reaction he wants, he’ll plop down next you and make every annoyed noise known to man. He might even start to nudge you, extending out one delicate hand to touch your knee or elbow until you get the hint.

But don’t you dare call him out on this. Like a cat, Astarion needs to feek comfortable safe with you. If he gets even a whiff of negativity (or what he thinks is), it sets your relationship back weeks. Pointing out his little feline quirks will feel like you’re complaining or annoyed with him and he can’t handle it. He’ll pull away from you and resort back to his stand offish ways. He’s making sassy but lowkey hurtful comments all of the time. They’re not directed at you because he would never forgive himself if he upset you but that sentiment doesn’t extend to anyone else. Worst of all he won’t feed from you and would damn near starve himself before asking you.

It’s a delicate dance between the two of you but one you would never quit.

2. Feeding from you is difficult for him.

At first it was merely a means to an end but then you became more important to him and now he can’t bring himself to feed from you as much. He would rather never do it but alas blood is in limited supply and you’ve already given him permission to take what he needs. If he can, he finds some other way but it doesn’t always work out. You’ve never asked him why he seems to avoid such a normal task but it’s always on your mind and one night you blurt it out.

I imagine it’s been a long few days and tonight is the first time you’ve been able to relax. Freshly bathed, fed, and now sipping at decent wine, you’re lounging with Karlach and Shadowheart. The three of you have had more than enough wine to be relaxed and have passed over into what Astarion calls ‘delightful chaos’. You’re giggly enough to be entertaining but can still hold a conversation albeit slow and slurred. Your pale elf has been cranky all day and poor Gale has been the target for most of it. You tried to step in and at least lessen Astarion’s onslaught but that earned you the nastiest glare to date. Since then Astarion has been sulking in the shadows or hiding in his tent. You’re the only one brave enough to go near him when he’s like this however it’s still rather dangerous.

On clumsy feet you find yourself just outside of him tent where you can feel the brooding and angst wafting from inside.

“Astarion?” You gentle whisper to the fabric, awaiting his acknowledgment.

“What?” His response is short and biting, similar to how he’s been speaking at Gale.

Assuming he doesn’t realize that it’s you, you say his name again and ask if you can come in. He nearly brings his tent to the ground when he rips open the flaps.

“What?” He repeats with fury and pain in his dull eyes.

It should scare you, seeing him so feral and unrestrained but seeing him causes a wild smile to break out on your face. Your hands go to reach for his face but quickly they fall when you remember that everyone is watching you closely. Whatever wine you drank has given you an armor of courage (and stupidity really). You smile at him with all of the affection you harbor for this ethereal being and slide past him into his tent. The simple action sends everyone else into high alert while Astarion barely contains the hiss he wants to send their way.

When he turns around, he finds you already sitting beside his bedroll with your knees pulled up with your arms wrapped around them.

“What do you want?”

All he gets in response is a blink and then a beckoning to join you. Patting the space next to you, you quietly ask him to join you however he is determined to be cross with you for barging in. He repeats his early question with a hardened glower in your direction.

“Astarion…” you murmur to him, your voice low and gentle, “you need to feed.”

The sheer audacity to utter such a thing infuriates him to no end but you’re right. He does and the sanguine desire is growing far too large to hold in anymore.

He still tries to deny it but his words are unusually weak and he stumbles over each one.

“Come,” you order softly as you move to lay down on his bedroll and brush your hair away, “drink what you need. I trust you.”

Those three words are almost as powerful as a declaration of love to the vampire spawn. He finds himself crumble to the ground and crawl over your divine figure. The unholy need to devour you that he usually despises with his entire being is welcomed as his fangs sink into your neck. One of your hands comes to hold his shoulder and the other cradles the back of his head, keeping him close as he feeds from you. Your gentle touch and reassuring voice overwhelms poor Astarion. He begins to whimper and moan into the supple skin of your neck without even realizing it. When he pulls away to keep from completely draining you, he’s breathless and muttering to himself you how good you taste.

Why he would ever deny himself this divine experience?

3. He refuses to admit it that he loves when you initiate touch.

Because of his past, you’ve decided that you will only touch him if he asks and if you get explicit consent. Most of the time you wait until he invites you in some manner whether that be he telling you to get over here or paw at you like a cat. He appreciates it, he really does but sometimes he craves the feeling that he gets when you ask him.

His favorite, though, is when you ask him if you can lay in him when he reads. You’ve been napping in his tent on and off all day, having chosen to stay back and recoup after the long events from the past week. Most of your companions have been doing the same but Astarion has been trying his hardest to not spend too much time around you. It’s hard enough to not just bask in your affection but even more so when you’ve been cuddled up in his tent all day. When you finally decide to go to your own tent, he takes the opportunity to reclaim his bedroll. It smells of your sweet scent and is still warm from your body, something he secretly craves.

You return to his tent a few hours later after everyone has eaten and settled in for the night. Peering down at him with sleeping eyes, you cross your arms and huff when he ignores you for his reading.

“Yes, my dear?” He quietly chuckles while still pretending to read his book.

“You’re in my spot.”

“We’re in my tent therefore it is my spot.”

You can’t exactly argue with him. You plop down next to him and give him the biggest puppy eyes imaginable.

“Will you at least let me lay on you if you’re not going to move?”

If it could his heart would be doing flips and his cheeks would be red but alas neither thing is truly possible.

“That depends…” he pretends to be uninterested in your request and continues with his straight face as he flips to the next page in his book. He can hear your huff of annoyance and fails to hide the small smirk that tugs at his pale lips.

“On what?” You pry even though you both know this is just a little game and he’s going to give in.

“Ask me nicely.” He drawls in that low seductive voice he uses when he’s trying to persuade you. Finally he flickers his eyes over to yours. That simple action alone steals your breath and chases away any negative feelings you might’ve had.

You crawl closer to him, nearly touching him but not quite as you whisper your request again.

“Of course you can, my dear,” he whispers back while his smirk has fully taken over his face. “Lay your head here."

He pats his sternum and waits for you to settle. Much like a lover seeking warmth in the night, you immediately take refuge in his arms and cuddle as close as you can to him. You feel him set his the book on your upper back when you've found the comfort and warmth you sought.

Astarion begins to murmur the book’s words as his other hands rests at the base of your head. His fingers don’t yet feel confident in moving to thread into your hair but they do softly rub at the tension in your skull. Peace is found in your embrace and he couldn’t be happier that you asked him to join your party all those weeks ago.

[ivysprophecy]

slim pickins

warnings; bad date? mentions of sex, cursing underage drinking and yes i meant for it to be written poorly i was trying to keep the humor of the album in the writing

masterlist | p. 2

no pressure tags; @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

word count; 1911

summary; youre tired of not finding a decent guy who will treat you right and lay you right. at least not one you've known since you were kids. however you just cant help yourself. besides its slim pickins out here you take what you can get.

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

i wanna make one thing clear, when i say there are no good guys left i do not wanna hear about you and your boyfriend of three years that can cook and loves your mom.

thats exactly what im talking about maddie!!! i dont give two fucks that he took you to barnes and noble and bought you every book you wanted.

they are all taken. its plain and simple.

which is why even with a full roster, im stuck taking fucking zander, yes with a z, to my friends' kegger.

i mean yea hes cute. hes tall, built but not that gross kind of muscly. but if were being real i shouldve known better when he was joking about being a male stripper when hes a ginger.

and i can tell kie is judging me, rightfully so. her side eye is lethal. when i introduced him to everyone she asked him about his greta van fleet tee and he said he didn't even know it was a band.

needless to say pope had to drag her away.

after that incident i decided it was best if we tried to talk away from the rest of the group. boy was i wrong.

"so what do you like to drink? ill go grab us something," i offer trying to start the conversation, also avoiding the usual problem with taking a drink from men.

"im good with whatever"

i like to think im not a violent person, but im about to be.

"does a beer sound okay?" i ask him grabbing a twisted tea for me from the cooler.

"sure thing." god why is he acting like such a bitch? i should ask him if he's on his period.

i hand him the can, our fingers brush and its my final clue for the night that i am definitely not going home with him. no spark at all. hes done just about everything else to piss me off.

he did the thing where he licks his lips exaggeratingly looking me up and down, making a point to make sure i saw.

he walks so slow for being 6'3.

and finally he tried to mansplain my career to me. i'd had just enough when he opens his mouth again

"ew, you like twisted tea? who likes sweet tea?" his face contorted in disgust, it was about to contort from my fist breaking his goddamn nose if he keeps talking to me like this.

"we literally live in the south dude." my face could not make it any clearer i am so done with this guy.

"still, sweet tea is disgusting. im not kissing anyone that drinks that nasty shit."

"who said i wanted to kiss your nasty fucking mou-" i was interrupted by the sound of a very familiar giggle behind me as his arm wrapped around my shoulder, the smell of his deodorant and sea salt that cover his skin start to put you at ease.

jj was always there when you needed him, sometimes even when you didnt but right now you couldn't be more grateful. "im glad you found those mama i got em just for you. remembered theyre your favorite. right?"

and you wanna know the best part? zander is shaking already pissed off that jj is at my side. territorial i guess.

"you mind?" he asks him nodding his head at me like im not even there.

jj cant help but laugh at him "yea bud i do mind. she's hanging out with me tonight. have fun with your ipa dick." and with that he steers us off to where the rest of the pogues are.

but not before i can look over my shoulder and give the ginger an innocent smile and a shrug as if i had no control over the situation, when really id pick jj over anyone else.

"you owe me a big fat kiss mama," jj whispers in my ear walking us over to where our friends are standing, drinks in their hands laughing and chatting up a storm.

"in your dreams honey."

"every night all night," he quips back before i shove him off me.

now before you give me shit, jj and i have had our fair share of fun, but unfortunately im starting to look for something more serious.

watching john b and sarah be disgusting together is getting to my head. popes got something going on with cleo and im starting to recognize the pattern. and before i know it everyone will be in love if i don't start making an effort in that department.

random casual hook ups aren't doing it anymore, especially considering they aren't even that good.

unless theyre with jj.

but hes not an option, theres too much drama. too much history. too much too much too much. im not what he needs and i know for a fact he doesn't want me in that sense.

is that a bit dramatic? probably.

i mean hes a great lay, he's hilarious, he's got that blue collar kind of muscle, and he genuinely cares about me.

so of course im not going to date him, why would i?

what do you mean make good decisions? id rather do things in the most difficult way possible!

"y/n youve gotta stop giving those guys a chance, im starting to feel bad for you."

"you try finding a decent guy in a ten mile radius." i glare at him, obviously not wanting to joke about this right now.

he sticks his hand out in front of me, "fine i will. let me see your phone."

curious to see what he will do i hand it too him unlocked, he swipes and taps for a few moments, smiling down at the phone before handing it back to you.

when you look back down at the screen all you see is your instagram open with his stupid fucking smiley face on the screen.

he took a picture of himself and posted to my story. written on the screen in bubble letters in my favorite colored heart 'my favorite guy <3'

"i think he's your best bet." that same smile facing back at me now, cockier than ever. so smug i wanna kiss it off his face

i cant help but roll my eyes. "jj im serious! at this rate im going to die alone. every decent guy is taken or unavailable. all i want is someone funny, kind, and attractive is that too much to ask for?"

"im right in front of you mama you dont gotta look far."

"jj we both know we're not the serious kind of relationship im talking about."

"you can think what you want too but ill be here waiting for that kiss you owe me."

"i think all that tequila youve been sipping has gone to your head maybank."

he stands in front of me, taking his signature red cap off his head and putting it on mine smiling down at me, "what do they say in those books you read? you wear the hat you ride the cowboy?"

"this no ten gallon hat and you are no cowboy."

we laugh at each other, its always been easier to do that then actually talk about our feelings. so i put his hat back on his head, backwards the way he i likes it.

"cmon y/n/n, have a few more drinks, relax and hang out and ill make you feel all better later yea? its what im best at, you know."

"its gonna take more than a few more teas to convince me jj"

"what about that thing you like that i do with my tongue, huh mama? doesnt that sound pretty good right now? i think it does."

"i give you one fucking compliment and it goes straight to your head."

"technically its about my head so that makes perfect sense," he hands me another can with that stupid signature smirk of his and his stupid sexy hat backwards. i hate to admit it's working on me.

just like it does every other time.

i squint my eyes at him taking the can, rolling the idea around in my head. "fuck it. its not like anyone else is offering," i take a big sip of my drink.

jj pumps his fist in the air like a victorious idiot giving a few woots and hollars before picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder despite my wishes.

"jb!!" he shouts turning around to face him, "we're headed out!"

john b looks at the two of us shaking his head at how im kicking my feet to wiggle out of jjs oddly strong grip. "make sure you change the sheets when youre done!"

oh my god he did not just say that. "fuck both of you!"

jj just laughs carrying you back to the chateau like a kid who's excited to use a brand new birthday present.

"what happened to letting me have a few more drinks before we left??"

"youre just too irresistable mama, gotta have you now,' he gives my ass a light slap for good measure causing me to roll my eyes for the 600th time tonight.

"are you gonna put me down now?"

he pretends to look like hes thinking about it, "i guess. only so i can watch you walk away," he does as he says helping me get my feet on the ground.

"youre a pervert."

"no im flirtatious, and you love it, you know it makes you blush i see it. now go on and give me a lil walk yea?"

oh im gonna kill him...

oh wait! im gonna kill him!

"okay... fine. but no touching until we get home," i smile walking away exactly like he asked, but i know behind me he is a puddle of mud. standing still, about to start begging me to let him.

he finally catches up after a few seconds "mama please- cmon thats not fair. you look too good in those shorts you know i cant wait that long. just wanna feel you."

i cant help but giggle at his words, its honestly adorable how mopey he gets. like i just kicked his puppy or something.

"hands of jj i mean it... not until that door shuts behind us."

it didn't really matter that i can see the chateau or that ill be there in literally a minute.

its actually painful for jj to not be able to touch me as he pleases.

i turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. "you want me maybank?"

and of course he nods so hard it looks like his head is going to fall right off.

"come and get me," running towards the house, i can see the moment when his reflexes kick in, his boots thudding against the ground as he gains on me.

just before i can make it to the poarch jj wraps his arms around me, lifting me a few inches off the ground and spinning me around in a fit of laughter.

"okay! okay okay okay you win- you got me."

"oh ive got you mama, and im havin you for the rest of the fucking night," he presses a kiss to my neck hauling me inside, the screen door slamming shut after us.

am i gonna regret this tomorrow? most likely.

but what can i say? its slim pickins in this part of town.

[megwritesriddles]

All Too Much ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 12 - Overstimulation. Mike and Reader are friends-with-benefits, but they never find much time to explore these benefits fully. When they finally get a night alone, Mike is determined not to waste it, and maybe even make Reader fall in love.

Tags: Overstimulation, Multiple orgasms, Oral sex (f receiving), Light dom/sub, Praise kink, SoftDom!Mike, Munch!Mike, Friends with benefits, Secret feelings.

Word count: 2k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Realised today was Josh Hutcherson's (my pookie bear's) birthday so swapped this and my Seb fic around (it's coming tmrw dw!!) because of this, this is a little short and maybe rushed?? Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

This friends-with-benefits idea was still new, very new. It wasn’t something you’d ever done before, but you trusted Mike wholeheartedly, he was your friend, first and foremost, and he couldn’t afford to mess this up. You were so many things to him, his closest friend, Abby’s babysitter (occasionally when he couldn’t find anyone else), and one of the only people who he really trusts. And now, you were this too. You’d never seen Mike as nervous as he’d been the day he’d suggested the arrangement to you. He’d been rubbing his clammy palms on his jeans, his voice shaky and his eyes avoiding yours. He’d told you how lonely he was, how dating had become impossible because of his custody over Abby and had already been very hard for him before that. He’d told you he thought you were unbelievably attractive, that he always had, and that he would be a very giving lover. He emphasised this point, and you mainly shook it off, thinking he was just trying to let you know he didn’t intend to use you for your body, that he cared about you too, which you knew, but he hadn’t been emphasising it for nothing. 

In the three times you’d hooked up now, you’d kept it very brief. There were only short periods of time that you were both available that you could also be alone during. There hadn’t been time for more than a little making out and then straight to sex. It was perfectly fine by you, he was very sweet and attentive, always rubbing your clit as he fucked you to make sure you felt good. He was full of praise, kissing all over your shoulders and telling you how much he had needed this, needed you. He told you how beautiful you were a little too much for the casual relationship you were trying to maintain, but you didn’t complain, loving the way his eyes softened when he told you that you looked beautiful, even if he was pounding into you at the same time. He was good, one of the best partners you’d ever had, no, the best. So when he’d asked you to set aside some time for him this Friday night because Abby was going to a sleepover, you obliged happily.

You’d gotten to his place and he’d pulled you straight into his arms, kissing your neck needily. It had made you giggle, you’d had to push him off just to properly take off your coat and put your bag down. As soon as you had, he was on you again, grabbing your waist and dragging you to his bedroom. He kissed up and down your neck, lowering you onto the bed.

“We finally have enough time for me to eat you out,” he growls excitedly, bunching your shirt up over your chest, and leaning down to kiss all over your breasts. All the attention made you squirm. Sure, he was usually a conscientious lover, but he didn’t usually have time to pay you this much attention. He suckles on each of your nipples in turn, flicking his tongue tantalisingly, a promise of how it might move elsewhere.

 He smiles up at you, loving how flushed and breathless you are, knowing he hopes to bring you ecstasy tonight. He wants more than just a friendship with you, but he doesn’t know how to bring up the discussion. He will ensnare you by other means, methods that he will absolutely love. He kisses down your stomach, leaving a lovebite just under your belly button. It’s somewhere you can cover, so it’s only a message for him and you, but he hopes you get the message later, when you get home and shower, washing the remnants of him away, this will remain. Your jeans and panties are quickly torn off of you, his eagerness startling you a little as he spreads open your legs, coming to lie comfortably between them. You can only hope you smell okay, but by the blissful look on Mike’s face, the fear vanishes.

“My mouth is watering, you look so good,” he husks, kissing the soft skin of your inner thighs, tracing his tongue up a couple faint stretch marks there. You sigh, leaning back against him pillows, shifting them so you can look down at him. He grins. “Watching the show?” he teases, giving a small hickey right at the top of your thigh. 

“Yeah, excited to watch,” you giggle. A genuine smile crosses his face and his eyes soften. He has a million sweet things he wants to say, but instead he settles on his usual.

“You’re beautiful, I haven’t got a proper look at your pussy before but God…” he groans, leaning in and placing a soft kiss against your folds, making you twitch. “As beautiful as the rest of you, and just as sweet too,” he grins, licking gentle broad stripes between your folds. You gasp and shiver, blood rushing to your cheeks. He watches your reactions, eyes slightly hooded. It feels like a victory when your hand moves into his hair, softly gripping and keeping him in place between your legs. He keeps up his gentle broad strokes, wanting to make you properly wet and needy before he gives you what you want, to heighten the sensations for you. He wants you completely addicted to him by the end of tonight. “You taste like heaven,” he moans against you, letting the vibrations wash over you. When you start to pant, he picks it up.

He starts to lap at you a little more intently, letting the tip of his tongue gently flick your clit on each upstroke. His hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you in place when you start to squirm. He happily lets you hook one leg over his shoulder as he buries himself deeper between your legs. He draws out your pleasure, building you up slowly, incrementally applying more and more pressure with his tongue, before he focuses solely on lapping at your clit. He occasionally dips his tongue down to lick up the wetness that trickles from you, moaning at the taste. He needs more of that. He begins to gently suckle at your clit. The action makes your back arch and you cry out his name in a choked-out way that makes him shiver. He loves his name on your lips, almost as much as he loves you on his. He slurps at you needily, needing more of the sweet nectar you’re providing him. His hands gently rub up and down your thighs and hips, soothing you toward that edge. With a few more gentle sucks, you cry his name again, twitching furiously under his tongue, the knot in your stomach snapping in searing pleasure all through your body. Your release oozes slowly out of you and he laps it up eagerly, the taste making him dizzy with desire, holding you down for more as you try to buck. 

Once you’ve ridden out the waves of your pleasure, you’re surprised to find he isn’t withdrawing, starting to lick broad stripes between your soaked folds again. You whine, the feeling heightened by your previous orgasm, making you sensitive. Your legs twitch around his head and you whine louder, it feels like too much, and yet it feels amazing, the sensation leaving you reeling. You lock eyes as he looks up at you, a hint of mischief in his dark brown ones. He won’t be letting up until you’re done again. You whimper, resting your head back on his pillows. He holds your skittish hips in place, grinning as he swirls his tongue around the bundle of nerves nestled in your folds. 

“Tasted so good when you came, just need more, do it again for me baby,” he pants against you, voice muffled by his unwillingness to let up for more than a second. He’s never called you baby before and shamefully, the word makes you clench around nothing. He chuckles against you, working his tongue faster. You moan wantonly, thankful you’re not at your apartment where neighbours might hear you, as you can’t keep yourself quiet for the life of you. He’s devouring you now, driven by pure lust and hunger, his eyes black as he stares up at you. The obscene noises his tongue creates against you only make you feel hotter, and the fact he’s groaning against you like he’s taking immense pleasure from this. You find yourself hurtling toward your second orgasm at breakneck speed. 

It crashes over you even harder than the last, you scream out, your whole body tensing. You grip his hair and sheets so hard you think you’ll cause damage. Your vision whites out, you can barely register your own voice as you cry out for Mike in desperation. You feel the pressure on your hips mounting as he has to apply more strength to keep you from thrashing violently under him. You gasp for breath, practically sobbing, feeling as he greedily licks up all your release, his eyes closing as he lets out a moan at the taste. He still doesn’t relent. You sob.

“M-Mike! I c-can’t take more!” you plead, choking out moans as he gently kisses your clit.

“Yes you can, baby, you’re strong, I need more,” he groans. You squirm, trying to escape his grip, but he has you held too tight. It feels too good, your brain can’t process the onslaught of sensation. He’s being gentler, wanting to bring you pleasure, knowing the overstimulation could turn into pain if he’s not careful. He kisses and licks your clit gently, smiling as you whimper and squirm and cry his name. There are tears gathering in your eyes, but he can tell you feel good from the way you still have your hand gripped in his hair, holding him in place. He has you where he wants you, he knows you can only take one more orgasm, even though he’d love to bring you through more. You’ll be able to handle more over time, for now, he savours what he has, keeping it slow and gentle. Despite how soft his touches are, you react like you're being shocked with each press of lips or flick of his tongue. He watches you grab aimlessly at the sheets, trying to ground yourself, but you’re already floating. 

He underestimates just how sensitive you are, with a gentle suck to your bundle of nerves, you fall apart. You sob through it, overwhelmed completely by pleasure, tears rolling down your cheeks. He gently cleans up your release, being very careful to avoid your sensitive swollen clit. You twitch and jerk with each move of his tongue and he knows he can’t push his luck and try for another. Three is a good place to start. He pulls back, gently pressing a few kisses to your inner thighs again. You wail with both relief and slight disappointment. It’s a good sign, next time he will try for four. He smiles at you as he moves to sit up between your legs, making a show of licking his lips. You look completely wrecked, your whole body flushed and shining with sweat, your hair messed up and your makeup all smudged. You look like you’re on another planet right now. He crawls up to lie down beside you, rubbing your arm soothingly.

“How was that, baby? Are you alright?” he coos softly, wiping away some of your mascara tears. “You look beautiful,” he adds.

“I’ve never- I’ve… not experienced that before,” you pant hoarsely. He smiles. He reaches for a glass of water on his bedside, pulling you up to sit and holding it to your mouth, slowly letting you sip it. You lean heavily into his side, feeling completely wrecked. The water soothes your throat and his arms wrapping around you soothe your spirit. He’s just overwhelmed you, but now you feel blissful and tired and like all you want in the world is him. He kisses your temple, rubbing relaxing circles on your back. “You’ve just ruined me for anyone else,” you giggle breathlessly, meaning to joke, but nervously realising that you kind of mean it. He goes silent for a moment, a smug grin spreading over his lips. 

“I know,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[inmaki2]

luxiems reaction to a partner that’s loud in bed

req . pairing : luxiem x f!reader .

smut mdni . 2k est wc .

warnings : mocking in mystas . pull out method in lucas . uhh it’s just filth

posting b4 i sleep.. sry for taking so long with this im a slow writer + kpop blog shit LMAO

- mysta rias

your sounds are a one way ticket to shooting this man’s ego through the roof.

whenever he gets to be on top, mysta thrives in the fact that he can make you feel so good, to the point where volume has no consequence in your poor fucked out brain. of course, this doesn’t mean your boyfriend won’t be a little mean about it — it’s just how he is.

“uh, uh,” mocking the tone of your choked up sounds, mysta can’t help but snicker while his hips slam into yours. “so—“ he’s cut off when your walls squeeze him even tighter, “shit, such cute fuckin’ noises. my dick’s that good, huh slut?”

you don’t even have the strength to vocalize your embarrassment from the cruel imitation, much too preoccupied gripping the sheets for dear life. not to mention the pathetic string of drool falling from the corner of your swollen lips; open mouth allowing more squeals to escape with every thrust while the grip on your thighs tighten.

his pace never relents, even when your walls are practically suffocating him. “c-cum, please pl— ah! please, wanna cum, mysta,” you beg, voice cracking desperately.

the pleads coming from your sore throat only encourage the male to go rougher, one sleek finger rushing down to circle your puffed clit while the others lie sternly across your pelvis, harsh pressure preventing any attempts to squirm away while massaging the bulge his length leaves on your lower tummy in the process.

with you nearly spasming beneath him, mysta smiles wider. “hold it, kay? keep moaning my name louder n’ i’ll consider. let everyone know who’s fucking you this good.”

- shu yamino

it’s like a game for him — what can he do to make you even louder? theres no point in whining either, you can whimper and beg all you want, but your nerd of a boyfriend is rather strict in bed no matter how much he loves your pleas.

shu has your back pressed to his toned chest, a muscly bicep ensuring you’re immobilized by mimicking a seat belt across your waist. his free hand plunges two skillful fingers into your hole, purposely avoiding your clit for nothing but the fun of it.

even so, perhaps it’s the way he abuses that gummy spot so easily, or maybe the sloppy sounds coming from his mouth as he sucks on your shoulder — whatever it is, you simply can’t hold in your cries.

“want.. want your cock now, shu. please pl—!” a slap to your cunt along with the emptiness of his fingers’ absence has you crying out, and it takes everything in your boyfriend’s power to not groan as your ass rubs right on his bulge.

biting into your shoulder, shu tuts in disappointment. “this isn’t enough?” he lazily drags his pointer through your folds, huffing. “i thought you were my good girl.“

“i am, i am your—“ you’re cut off with another slap, yelping in a mix of delicious pleasure and pain while juices flow out from the contact.

“enough,” he spits. “good girls dont complain when they already have two fingers filling them up. they sit there, moan, and take it.” before you can reply, he’s already thrusting back into you, humming in approval when you let out a gutteral sound that can surely be heard outside the room.

“there you go, scream my name when you cum.”

though you can barely think, you use your last bit of strength to mumble out, “do— do i get your dick after?”

this has shu letting out a chuckle even while his fingers are curling into your walls, and you swear you see the tip of his ears turn a shy red. “sure, princess. s’long as you keep those pretty moans up.”

- ike eveland

yes, your boyfriend loves the variety of sounds he can emit from you, but god it stresses him out sometimes.

ike is not up for sharing nor exhibitionism, the mere thought of anyone else hearing or knowing what the two of you are up to has him pausing anxiously, even when the blissful feeling of your thighs suffocating him flourishes. he occasionally wonders how your throat manages such strain, even more so when you nearly howl from the way his lips suck around your most sensitive area.

despite your body weight crushing him, ike manages to pull off for a second to breathe. “no..” you complain, hands rushing to tug him back by the fluffy grey hair tickling your thighs.

“don’t worry, i’ll give you what you want, y/n,” he reassures, pretty face red and sweaty. “but try to stay quiet for me.”

“s’ hard..” almost teasingly, ike’s tongue is swiftly back to licking up your juices, two pale arms hooking around your thighs to ensure you’re fully sitting right on him. his prior request diminishes, in fact, the opposite only occurs.

everytime his tongue pushes into your hole, his nose bumps your clit so perfectly — not to mention the vibration coming from his own sounds against your cunt, hurriedly sending you over the edge. “geez, i say be quiet and you only get louder. bad girl.”

you’ve pretty much tuned him out at this point of your high, which ike catches onto rather quickly. though to your luck, your boyfriend is feeling merciful. “go on— mmh, just cum. as long as you’re ready to get gagged after while i fuck you.”

- vox akuma

well aren’t you just made for this man? being loud himself, vox very much appreciates your openness to matching his volume whether it be intentional or not. his ego is skyrocketing as is, but every time you scream his name, it feels as though something goes off in his brain, resembling a mental pat on the back that has his cock twitching.

“fuuuck, cunt’s squeezing me so damn tight. keep moaning like that, baby.” contradictingly, the man presses your face further into the mattress, plowing his length into you from behind at a dauntingly fast pace. it may sound strange, but vox thinks you look cute suffering underneath him like this.

you aren’t even sure if it’s tears or drool staining the sheets, but the bubbling feeling of embarrassment encourages you to finally purse your lips and stop the erotic noises circling your bedroom.

however, your boyfriend freezes, seemingly accepting this as a challenge.

his hips cease movement almost completely with only the tip poking your entrance, a graceful hand running up your sides as he whispers. “oh? what’s this?” suddenly, you feel yourself being pulled up, two fingers turning your chin to come face-to-face with a sinister sneer. “going quiet on me?”

“milord..” as you attempt to speak, your jaw is forced open wider before a glob of saliva is dropped onto your vulnerable tongue.

“swallow,” vox hisses. you comply seconds later even though your cheeks are burning red, body involuntarily squirming in pathetic attempts to run from the length slowly sheathing back inside. “good girl.”

when he’s an inch or two from bottoming out, he pulls your hips back onto him, ejecting a chocked yelp from your mouth at the feeling of him hitting that gummy spot. vox only laughs in response. “so cute.. thinking you can hide those pretty sounds from me.” an offended tch leaves his lips. “do that again and you’re not cumming tonight, m’kay darling?”

- luca kaneshiro

luca’s main goal in bed is just to please you as much as he can, so being loud does nothing but make him feel pride and act as a sign that he’s doing well — especially now when he’s putting all his strength into making you both reach bliss.

legs wrapped tightly around his waist, you let out a groan as his cock plunges into you harshly, the girth and length making your eyes squeeze shut by the fullness. “please luca..”

he grunts, sweat rolling down his face and onto yours. “what- what are you begging for now?” the blonde moves one hand down to your chest, pinching your nipple playfully.

“harder!”

“harder?” luca parrots, a mischievous smirk rising across his cheeks. who was he to say no? “don’t complain if you can’t walk tomorrow.”

regardless of his warning, he quickly obliges, snickering at how a strangled moan is forced out of you with each prod. luca is certainly aware of the racket you’re making, but noise complaints are his last concern when he gets a front row seat to your eyes rolling back into your skull. “jesus, you’re loud. gonna— shit, gonna squirt all over me babe?”

you can only nod in response, hands pathetically gripping strong biceps while his fingers move down to press the bulge on your tummy. before you can make another move he’s pulling you into a kiss, swallowing your sounds right as your impending orgasm washes over you. luca groans himself from the way your walls spasm, struggling to even pull out with your legs caging him in.

eventually he’s releasing all over your swollen cunt and stomach, groaning in satisfaction at his work while flopping down next to you. “hey y/n.”

“what, luca?”

“i think that’s one of the loudest i’ve ever got you. top three at least.”

you open one eye in disbelief, making eye contact with the same idiot who just fucked your insides up. “is everything a competition to you?”

“i’m just saying!”

if u want me to write more make sure to reblog/send asks and tell me if u enjoyed !!!!!

nkox 2023 - do not copy, translate, crosspost, etc.

[heartaces]

𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐔𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟑 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ASTARION EDITION ⟶ part one

“there is a time and place for violence. i mean - this place is perfect. but is it the time?”

“heaven forbid. we’re all entitled to our secrets.”

“sitting by the fire while you do all the hard work sounds marvelous, actually.”

“couldn’t you wait ten minutes before being an absolute freak?”

“you’re welcome to try and kill me, of course. but i don’t die easily these days.”

“ugh, don’t be so nice to me. it makes me want to be nice back.”

“a horrible death is always just around the corner with you.”

“stabbing someone a dozen times can be many things. but ‘the right thing to do’? hm, i doubt it.”

“immortality is only as good as the life you’re living. an eternity of luxury sounds a lot better than an eternity of struggle.”

“what are you doing? this isn’t safe. you can’t trust him.”

“look, i’m a not a details person, all right. but turning up and causing chaos has worked for us so far.”

“they were clearly artists. you can tell because it’s a mess in here.”

“you know, there is a point where bravery becomes stupidity. and walking into that thing would be very, very stupid.”

“i’ve had enough of bad poets singing of my looks - urgh.”

“is the plant bothering you?”

“until then, try not to die.”

“oh yes, i’m fine. i just feel… awful.”

“shut that oversized chicken up.”

“you know, the only way to cure temptation… is to give in to it.”

“next time, just warn me before you do something stupid.”

“there certainly is a strong ambience down here. i don’t know if it’s the bats or the decaying - everything. it’s quite homey.”

“it’s nice to see heroes are as awful as the rest of us.”

“unusually polite for a god.”

“of all the places you dragged me, this might just be the most foul. and that is saying something, given some of the things you exposed me to.”

“i mean, i hate to judge the proverbial book, but that oath may be all cover and no pages.”

“a shapeshifter? it could be anyone. i mean - it’s not me. but it could be anyone else.”

“sometimes we need to think with our heads before our knifes, dear.”

“you could watch for anyone acting strangely, but - well, you know the lunatics we camp with.”

“thank you. for being that evil bastard.”

“can you feel that? the dark, it’s - hungry. best watch the shadows.”

“this place brings back the worst memories.”

“well, that’s disturbing. still, better than having an actual conversation with him though.”

“oh no. not again.”

“honestly, just once, could we end up somewhere normal?”

“i prefer to travel in smaller groups. it’s more… intimate.”

“nice as it is, she still doesn’t have the best hair in the camp.”

“thank goodness. i was worried i’d have to get involved. now, let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”

“i much prefer it when i’m the one prowling in the shadows - about to strike.”

“ah, nothing says ‘true love’ like faking your own death to avoid someone.”

“you’re not going to eviscerate him? i was hoping for a show.”

“it’s just a waste of a perfectly good cult we could be controlling.”

“can you - ugh, can you shut up and let me read?”

“i hate to be negative. but they’ll carve you up like a goose.”

“my, she sounds positively demented. i love it. let’s tell her everything.”

“you villain. i didn’t know you had it in you.”

“a well-presented face can open a lot of doors.”

“hardly a promising introduction.”

“do you mind? i’m brooding.”

“i’d rather be the only dark power inside your body, if it’s all the same to you.”

“easy now, let’s not do anything hilarious.” 

“i’m with you, my dear. wherever this leads.” 

“i appreciate anyone who opens a conversation with bodily harm.” 

“nothing like a little camp drama to spice up the evening.” 

“it’s almost a pity things ended up amicably.”

“what do you see when you look at me?”

“i would’ve liked more for my trouble than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.”

“do you have any other chaos you need to unleash here?”

“all i want is a little fun. is that so much to ask?” 

“don’t be so sour. i like a good time as much as anyone.” 

“this seems like a lovely little spot. the sense of impending doom aside.”

[mvltisstuff]

hi!! i use tumblr on safari - so i’m unable to answer any messages - but i would like to put in a request for conrad fisher x fem! reader smut!

if your comfortable, could you do a imagine with an innocent/virgin reader that is constantly flustered by conrad?

thank you so much!! <<33

champagne & sunshine - c.f**

summary: request

conrad fisher x reader

a/n: i get so nervous posting smut (for literally no reason😭), but i still hope you enjoy this 🩶 warning for smut.

the bonfires were always a good time, usually. once you grow up, the hype of them dies down a bit. belly begged y/n to come, being her older sister figure. it was y/n’s birthday, so belly convinced her that it would be fun. besides, y/n’s mom had been letting her drink today, as long as she was home and with close people. y/n figured she’d leave it at that, not bothering to take anything at the party.

she threw one of the cans in the bag at the corner of the beach, avoiding the full boxes of hard seltzer as her eye landed on conrad and jeremiah entering the beach. luckily, the fire wasn’t bright enough to illuminate her bright red cheeks. she walked away from the drinks, turning away from conrad but also trying to make herself seem noticeable.

she’d grown up with the conklins and fishers next door, but she always had the biggest crush on conrad. every single time he walked in, her heart raced and almost everyone knew it. belly always teased her, someone noticing before she even knew she liked him.

conrad had always had his eyes on y/n. conrad, y/n, and steven had been the oldest, so it was usually him and her together. she acted like she barely knew him, when he probably knew her better than anyone else. now that they were both eighteen, legal adults, they could do pretty much whatever they pleased. somehow, y/n still found herself blushing like a little girl. conrad was one of the first to show her any attention. boys never cared about her at home, and he always made her feel wanted. she was always a shadow to her friends, who had guys clinging to them. she sat around with other people talking about sex and other stuff that y/n pretended to know about. it made her a little bit embarrassed, but who really cares? her whole friend group would laugh at her humorously if they found out she was a virgin, but again, who cares, right?

it wasn’t until she was sitting on the warm sand, feeling it in her hands as she slid them across the floor, that conrad sat next to her on the beach. the music was blaring, so y/n brought herself away to just observe people for a little bit. someone must’ve had the same idea if they tread all the way over to sit with her.

“you got dragged here, too?” conrad asks first.

“belly, jeremiah for you, i assume?”

“the one and only,” conrad laughs, as he kicks away an empty bottle. “you’re not drinking anything?”

“nah, i don’t really feel like it tonight. i’d rather just enjoy my birthday sober, unlike everyone else,” she tells him, pointing to the stumbling people surrounding the fire.

“you’re not the only one,” conrad says. “so it’s just us, huh?”

“y-yeah,” y/n stutters. “i mean, i didn’t even bother getting all dressed up for this shit.”

“i think you look beautiful either way,” he says, and when y/n looks up, his eyes are softly on hers, refusing to crack the shell between them. y/n pauses, looking at conrad dumbfounded. she never has boys call her beautiful, let alone the one she’s been hopelessly in love with for years. but, they always say love hits you when you least expect it. y/n thought that was a lie, but she really believed it for now.

“you too, connie,” she spits out, not bothering to change the adjective for him because everyone is beautiful. he adjusts himself to sit closer to y/n, trying to relieve some of the tension. his eyes can’t help but wander across her body, taking in every part of her that’s breathtaking to him. and the cropped tank top and shorts that she’s wearing isn’t fucking helping his case either. she’d be lying if she wasn’t checking him out, too. his sharp jawline, his hands, his radiant eyes, his lips could never be missed by y/n. someone this pretty deserves to be looked at, they both think without speaking.

“do you wanna head out? come to my place for a bit?” conrad asks, standing up and holding his hand out as she nods up at him, anticipating a night alone.

before y/n can even begin to think straight, their lips are crashed together in his car. she’s leaning over the cup holders in the center, and her hands are against his face. his hands are placed on her hips as he can’t help but steer his mind away from his tongue in her mouth. he never in a million years thought he’d see this side of her, and she never thought she’d see it in herself. she’s kissed guys before, but never this intimately. conrad pulls away, smiling against her lips before connecting them again. every single time this happens, y/n swears her heart skips a beat in the best way possible. like their lips set off fireworks in the car. they decided to leave the vehicle, climbing up the stairs, trying not to disturb the moms watching a movie. conrad places his hands on her thighs, lifting her up and placing y/n gently on his bed. he climbs up as well, letting her legs wrap around him as their kiss does nothing but intensify.

her hands roam all around his body, his waist, his shoulders, his neck. the only time they separate is for a breath of air, just until they can return again. conrad’s wander over her chest, placing one of his hands to squeeze her breasts.

“is this ok?” conrad waits for confirmation until he gets a yes. after, in response, y/n tugs off conrad’s shirt, discarding it to the floor somewhere in his room. her hands run down his back. “if you want to stop, tell me and we’ll stop the second you say it.”

“ok,” she peeps out. “but if this does go any further, i’ve never done any of… this, before.”

“we can stop, y/n, whenever you want.”

“no! no, i want to keep going. can we just, go slower, maybe?”

“anything you need,” conrad reassures her before moving down the waistband of her shorts. “can i take these off?”

“yes,” she tells him, clearly and assertively as he takes off the tank top, too, leaving her in just a gray bra on his bed.

“have you ever… ever been eaten out before?” he asks. she shakes her head no, slightly embarrassed so she puts her head down to cover it, but conrad sees right through it. “hey, look at me. you’re ok, i promise. can i keep going?”

“yeah, please,” she says, squirming in discomfort from her own arousal. the feeling is unfamiliar, wanting someone to touch her so bad as it’s at her fingertips. someone willing to love her is right in front of her. conrad begins to peel off y/n’s underwear, throwing it off the bed like his shirt, ending up somewhere on the floor. she pulls her legs apart, spreading them as conrad’s eyes fall deeper.

“god, y/n,” he says. “you’re so fucking hot.”

“conrad,” she begs, as he flattens himself down trying to ignore his own erection. he wants to pleasure her first, and knowing he’s the first one too might boost his ego a bit. but conrad would never admit that.

his face is an inch away from her pussy, beginning to kiss her inner thighs as she groans from the teasing. finally, his tongue makes contact with y/n’s slit, gathering up her arousal before swirling it around her clit. y/n’s head falls back onto the pillow again in pure pleasure, letting out a quiet moan for the first time. “oh, fuck yes,” she speaks out, making conrad try to contain a smile. he places his tongue on her clit again, moving his flat tongue up and down. he switches between those movements and wrapping his lips around it, sucking on her clit, causing her to fail at concealing her moans. y/n’s hand moves down to conrad’s hair, trying to ground herself on the bed from the ecstasy.

the second her climax starts rolling up onto her, her legs start shaking and that tells conrad that you’re close. “f-fuck, con- oh my god,” she pants out, trying to formulate words but failing. her orgasm creeps up and sends her over the edge, releasing a strong moan from her lips as she comes down from the high, his fingers are gently circling over her clit.

“that was, um, holy shit, that was amazing, conrad,” she smiles as he pulls himself back up to her.

“are you feeling alright?”

“better than ever,” she says, making conrad laugh as he moves over to his drawer. he pulls out the box of condoms before taking one out.

“do you wanna keep going?”

“yeah, i do.”

conrad moves back over, dropping his pants and rolling to condom on. y/n gazes at his length, wondering how she would be able to take it. with conrad here, she knew she would be ok, so they continued. he walks back over, pulling her legs apart and making eye contact with her again. “remember, we can always stop no matter what, ok? just say stop, and we can stop.” she nods and he leans in closer. he plants a sweet kiss on her lips before pulling away, it was her turn to smile against his lips.

once settled in between her legs, conrad begins to run his tip up her slit. he confirms that she’s doing alright and that she’s ready to keep going. after he’s aware, he slides his dick into her, making her nose scrunch and release a high moan.

“you ok?”

“yes,” she replies. “yeah, you can go faster.”

conrad speeds up his pace, thrusting himself into y/n. she didn’t feel outright pain, just discomfort. that discomfort soon turned into pleasure, causing her mouth to hang open. “you feel so good, y/n/n, god damn.”

y/n’s hand falls down to her clit, circling it until she starts to bring that now familiar feeling up. conrad continues to keep the same pace, not changing it to make her feel comfortable and in control, just as much as he is. “i’ve loved you for so fucking long,” he spits out, not thinking about his words. y/n heard him loud and clear, but she’s too distracted by her orgasm coming up.

“conrad i’m close,” she tells him.

“me too, baby,” he says, breathless. “come for me, y/n.”

her release leaves her with stars in her head, the feeling better than anything she’s ever experienced. she was always worrying about sex and what it might be like, but with conrad, he made it amazing for her. she knew he was the right guy. he brings himself down, leaning onto her as he releases himself into the condom. he pulls out of her, throwing away the condom and pulling his boxers back on. y/n grabs her underwear, as she stands up wobbly. her legs are weak from her two orgasms from conrad, making him chuckle in the corner.

“hey, um,” y/n starts. “thank you.”

“yeah, of course,” he stutters a bit, not sure of what to say but trying to still wrap his head around it. he means, he just had sex with the hottest girl in cousins, what is he supposed to say? “you know, i meant what i said. i’ve liked you so much, for a long time.”

she just stares at him, confirming that she’s not in some dream. “i’ve been in love with you since the day i first saw you on the beach,” conrad steps over to her. placing his hands back on her bare waist and kissing her passionately again. he pulls back again to sadly, break the kiss off.

“we should probably clean up a bit, before everyone comes back and yells at us for leaving,” he says, brushing a loose piece of hair behind her ear. she nods, beginning to pull the rest of her clothes on. thank god she left that party when she did, or she would still love conrad, but never say it.

[rawbin-hsr]

Hi!! Saw ur taking requests, do you mind making some hcs for how a queerplatonic relationship with aven would be like? Demiro/ace aven is so dear to me, and being on the grayromantic spectrum myself, I really wanna just like, have this super deep bond with him where we're both each other's most important person without a doubt and physically affectionate but not like, romantic if u know what I meann (plus, I think a platonic relationship that goes past friendship and full of care would help him so much)

but I understand a lot of ppl aren't aware of how qpps work, so it's ok if you ignore this!! <3

ANON. ANON I LOVE YOU. YOU GET IT.

As someone on the aroace spectrum (I’m like 90% sure I can’t romantically love people; I only experience infatuation for three months at most before realising that I actually only want a close friendship 💀) I love love love this take on Aventurine and I’m so happy you’re asking me to do hcs on this !!!

This turned out a LOT longer than I planned and became like a whole story not just headcanons HELP I’m sorry bro I hope you don’t mind 😭😭🙏🙏 At the start it’s not even about being qpps it’s just about him learning to tolerate you that was not on purpose I apologise deeply, I promise the hcs come in at the end 💀

Queerplatonic Aventurine x Reader Headcanons

CW: queer dynamics, cursing, Aventurine’s messed up perception of people around him, Aventurine in general tbh (he's toxic I'm gonna be so real 😭), brief mention of sex but nothing actually happens, very soft and sweet (mostly), a lil bit of hurt/comfort, small mention of his sexual trauma towards the end, gender-neutral reader

Lmk if I missed anything !

Also sorry anon I forgot you specified demiro/ace he ended up basically just purely aroace 😭 I hope that doesn't matter too much </3

You’re not like everyone else, Aventurine realises quickly when he meets you.

Most people he surrounds himself with are closed off and guarded, but you are, surprisingly, not. In fact, your honesty is a bit… disarming. So complete he finds himself at a bit of a loss.

He thinks he doesn’t like you at first. He can’t avoid you, as you’re integral to this new project he’s working on, but he wishes he could. Something about you is deeply off-putting. He knows it is the way you never lie.

You’d think total honesty would be a weakness. He knows it would be for him. If he laid out all his cards on the table, he wouldn’t last another day. But the way you always leave yourself open is a new kind of defence in itself that he has never seen anyone else utilise before. When he tries to pry information out of you, you flatly tell him you can’t tell him that, that you know what he’s doing. You’re blatantly putting up barriers with him, and it drives him mad because usually, he can do a push and pull but that doesn’t work with you. It’s hard to be sneaky when you see right through him and stop him.

One day you tell him you would like to grab a coffee with him. He is sure you are flirting, that you mean it as a date. He is sure you want him, and though he usually limits these kinds of interactions to only flirting, nothing more, he’s getting frustrated with the way you never give. Perhaps you’d give more easily if he pretended to leave himself vulnerable to you?

But it’s not a date. You don’t flirt with him, but you don’t talk about business either. What’s worse, you shut him down when he flirts with you. It’s upsetting. Are you toying with him? Is this a weird power play? You don’t seem like that kind of person, but Aventurine is familiarly acquainted with the knowledge most people are not what they seem.

Maybe his anger gets the better of him at one point, an hour into the not-date when you’ve dragged him to the park to feed the ducks. He asks you what the purpose of this is, if you aren’t intending to get into his pants.

You tell him you just wanted to hang out. That you think he needs a friend.

He’s infuriated, because he can tell you’re being sincere.

He leaves, snarking that he already has friends. (He does not. Not really.)

But he can’t stop thinking about it. And he can’t avoid you, because you’re still needed for the mission and now, he’s sure he hates you.

You continue to be nice to him for some reason, even after that fiasco ?? He’s never encountered someone who’s so willing to just be nice to others merely for the sake of being nice. What kind of fucked up ulterior motives are you hiding? What sort of closet freak are you?

Aventurine knows, logically, that some people are just nice. It’s unreasonable to think every single person is as selfish as he is. He grew up surrounded by people who were just nice. But last time he had the fortune of actually interacting with such people, he was shorter than the desk at his office.

He wants to pry into your head, learn everything about you, know what it would be like to be your friend like you had offered. He wants you to fuck off to the other end of the galaxy so he never has to see you ever again.

He accepts when you invite him to go to the arcade with you.

It’s… weirdly soothing.

You’re good company, as much as he hates you. You’re funny and witty and playful and kind. There is no hidden agenda behind anything you do. You insist upon paying for half the tickets you play with at the arcade, even though he’s sure he has at least thirty times the amount of disposable income you have.

He wins most of the games, of course. You win less than half. He excels at the luck-based games, and he’s not half bad at the more skill-based ones, whereas you’re best at the latter. You stay away from the luck-based ones, and the ones you do attempt you fail every time. He’s honestly impressed by how unlucky you are. But at one point you still insist upon winning something for him, even though you both know he’d win it quicker himself.

At the end of the outing, you hug him, tell him you enjoyed yourself. He finds his chest feels oddly warm as you say it. It takes a moment to register the feeling as that of happiness, the sensation of real joy something unfamiliar to him. He smiles and hugs you back.

Maybe he doesn’t hate you.

You’re the first person he truly thinks of as a friend. Though he claims he has many, he knows he doesn’t really. The closest he had before you was maybe Topaz, or Ratio, but Topaz seems to view him as more of an annoying younger brother sometimes and he clearly gets on Ratio’s nerves. You're the first person who makes him feel truly... liked. A weird concept.

It’s not for his status or his money or his reputation. You turn him down when he tries to spend money on you. He’s not sure if that annoys him or if it makes him weirdly giddy.

Even long after his mission has ended, and he no longer needs you, you stick around. He lets you. He starts coming around for you too.

It’s fun to be around you. Again, you’re very good company. Smarter and funnier than most dimwits at the IPC. He considers inviting you to work under him, he’s sure the pay he could offer you would be better than what you currently make, but he doesn’t want to drag you too far into the mess that is his life.

He starts sleeping over at your house uninvited. He makes himself at home in your apartment. Your place is so much nicer than his, even if it’s smaller, run down and objectively a worse place to live in. The pipes in your sink clog too easily and the lights in the bathroom always flicker, despite your best attempts to fix it. But the rooms are all reminiscent of you, of what kind of person you are. Photos of your loved ones line the walls, trinkets you’ve picked up from various places decorate your shelves, and even though it looks messy he knows it’s all very organised from your point of view. It’s so different from his cold, clean, impersonal penthouse.

You cuddle him sometimes. Hug him and pull him into your chest when you watch movies. You play with his hair. You trace patterns on the back of his hand. Surely, those are all things lovers do? But your eyes never linger on his lips, you never look at him with yearning — he can tell you already have everything you want. It makes him feel… relieved.

He likes it when you touch him. He never liked being touched before, but you’re warm and gentle without being too light with him. You don’t touch him like he’s fragile, but you don’t intend to test his limits. You never stray from the safe areas on his body. You never touch with intent to go any further.

He feels safe.

Whenever he’s not out on business, he comes home to you. Will you have grown tired of him by next time, he always wonders. And the answer is always no. You’re always happy to see him.

He frequently finds himself thinking about you. He frequently finds himself missing you when he’s away. He sees things that remind him of you everywhere, and often wishes you were with him. All symptoms of being in love, he’s heard, but he doesn’t think he’s in love? To be fair, he has never experienced true attraction, and what he feels for you is certainly deeper and more intimate than what he’s ever felt for anyone else, so maybe he is in love with you.

But does romance not entail wanting to kiss you? Does romance not entail wanting to see you naked? Does romance not entail wanting to have sex? He doesn’t particularly crave any of those things.

He’s heard of ‘butterflies’ in your belly when seeing the one you love. He never feels that when he sees you. He only feels a deep sense of comfort, of contentment.

But he doesn’t like the thought of you being with anyone else the way you are with him. Jealousy is a sign of romantic feelings, yes? So maybe he does love you that way after all.

But he never asks you to be his partner. Whenever he considers it, something oddly heavy settles in his gut, and he doesn’t understand why. Why would the thought of being your partner leave him with dread? You’d make a wonderful lover, he knows. You already make a wonderful…

… friend? Can he really call you just a friend?

You call him or text him every day to make sure he’s okay. You send him photos of things that reminds him of you. You cook him meals when he visits you and you buy him gifts even though he could very well buy things for himself. You cuddle him and hug him and you sometimes even, albeit playfully, kiss his knuckles or the top of his head and you let him sleep in your bed with you.

Calling you only a ‘friend’ diminishes your worth, does it not? He calls everyone he meets ‘friend’. He can’t reduce you to something so… insignificant.

So he asks you one day, when you’re both sat on opposite sides of your couch, your legs splayed out over his lap as you eat popcorn. He asks:

“What are we?”

You look at him. And you smile.

“I don’t know.”

He blinks. You sound so serene as you say it. Are you not worried about this? Why do you seem so unconcerned with what he is to you?

Sensing his discomfort, you set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table, and scoot closer to him. His arms automatically wrap around your waist as you shift yourself to lean against him, leaning down to place your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t need to label what we are. I’m happy with things as they are. Are you?”

He nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling the by now familiar scent of your shampoo.

“I am.”

“You don’t sound entirely convinced.”

He huffs, pulling you closer.

“… Maybe I don’t want you to treat others the way you treat me.”

(He doubts you would. You have more integrity than he’s ever had: he’s aware there is some level of mutual understanding that whatever you are is something exclusive.)

You laugh.

“You think I treat others like you?”

“Can’t be sure,” he hums playfully, pinching your side. “Who knows, maybe you say that to all the guys.”

“I don’t like ‘all the guys’,” you point out. “I only like you this way.”

“What does ‘this way’ mean, then?”

You pull back to look at him. Gaze as warm and kind as always, a smile on your lips.

“Well, I love you a lot. A lot more than I love others. I’m not sure what answer you want.”

You’ve never explicitly stated the word ‘love’ before. Something hot and giddy fills his chest, something awfully childish, but he ignores it.

“Do you want me to be your… boyfriend?” he asks hesitantly. He’s not sure what he feels about the idea himself.

“I mean, if that’s what you want,” you shrug, sounding so casual about the idea that he doubts you’re that enthusiastic about it. (Should he feel offended?) “I just don’t want anything to change between us. I really like what we’ve got going on.”

He leans back into you, burying his face into your hair again. His arms squeeze your waist.

“… I like what we’ve got going on, too,” he admits. The honesty feels a little less foreign on his tongue than it used to, before he met you.

“I guess it’d be easier to call you my boyfriend than my ‘very close friend who eats all my food and sleeps in my bed half the time’,” you add teasingly. He snorts, pulling back just enough to shoot you a playful glare.

“Food that I pay you back double for,” he points out. You snicker, but don’t respond.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” You ask instead after a moment, reaching up to play with his hair. He leans into the touch.

He’s quiet for a moment, considering the question.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I guess you’re right that it’d be easier to call each other that. Maybe we should go for it.”

“Sounds good,” you agree, and that’s that.

And nothing changes in your relationship. All that changes is the title.

You cuddle and you hug and you spend time together. Whenever you flirt, it’s more of an inside joke than anything else. You go on not-dates nearly once a week, whenever he’s home to do that.

He doesn’t tell people what you really are to him. He doesn’t even have the words to describe it himself. It doesn’t matter to him than anyone else knows either. Maybe he’s just a little bit happy, even, to get to keep the secret of what you are to himself. It somehow feels more special when only the two of you know.

He starts confiding in you. Telling you things he would not tell anyone else. Things he previously thought he would bring to his grave. About himself, about his past, his thoughts and his feelings. You always hold him, let him speak until it’s off his chest, and you murmur comforting words. He feels so much lighter after, every time.

You tell him your secrets too. Your doubts and your worries. He holds you in return, and tries to soothe your concerns. He knows he’s not as good at it as you, but you seem to appreciate it anyways.

He doesn’t trust anyone else. Only you. You’re the only one he knows he can always turn to, the only person he knows for sure doesn’t mean him any harm.

He brings you gifts and trinkets he finds when he’s away. He’s gotten pretty good at figuring out what sort of things you like. You always give him the sweetest smile when he does, thank him with a hug, and put the item to use right away. Whether that means displaying a decoration somewhere along your already overfilled shelves, putting on a bracelet or trying out a new kitchen appliance that night. He starts to think that the point of wealth is to give you all the things you could want.

For some reason, the intimate nature of your relationship doesn’t scare him. The fact that you’ve told him he’s ’more like the closest friend you could ever want to have than a lover’ puts him at ease. Your commitment to one another doesn’t feel as frightening that way.

You prioritise him over your other commitments. You tell him he’s your ‘favourite person’, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop feeling warm in his chest when he thinks about it. You’re his favourite, too.

Sorry I seriously ran out of steam for this format here, moving on to headcanons from another perspective because I am NOT DONE !!!! (next part won't have been proof-read at all sorry guys it will just be unhinged rambling)

I don't think Aventurine would necessarily know what queerplatonic means, (and the way I've written Reader here they probably wouldn't go out of their way to research it either lol I think they're just the type to be like "well I'm happy so why would I need to know every little detail about what this is ?? 😊") and he doesn't really understand the nature of your relationship himself HELP

He just knows it's not romantic, and that really puts him at ease

I think Aventurine is like. EXTREMELY toxic in a romantic relationship because the though of that sort of commitment scares him on a very deep and personal level and it FREAKS. HIM. OUT. but I think a platonic relationship, even if it's just as deep, freaks him out a little less. It just feels different yknow ?

Idk how to formulate myself but I think that, after being looked at for like basically his whole life as a commodity (and, even worse, a literal sex object), the thought of being looked at without ANY sexual desire or romantic interest just really kind of puts him at ease.

Especially in this read of him as demi/aroace, I think he'd appreciate being seen in a purely platonic light. I personally don't think he is aroace in the way I normally write him, but even in the way I usually write him I do think a queerplatonic relationship would be deeply comforting for him

Like, think reader being aroace and being in a queerplatonic relationship with him and he's like actually in love with them,,, I don't think he'd mind that too much. He'd think it was so nice that you love him enough to be in a relationship even if you don't romantically love him. Even if it would be nice too if you did desire him that way, he'd like it either way

Sorry got off track there mb

Queerplatonic relationships are tricky to write because there is no real "norm" for what they entail like,, fuck man I'M aroace and I barely know what it means to be in a qpps

Like,, from my understanding it can be essentially the same as a "normal" relationship where you kiss and get married and have kids and all that stuff but you do it without romantic intent

or it can be a friendship that just goes really really deep, and you're just like,,,, idk roomates PLS

But I think a qpps with Aventurine would be somewhere inbetween what others would think a "normal" romantic relationship would be and just a very close friendship

I already mentioned cuddles, and like chaste kisses to more "safe/platonic" areas (forehead, top of head, hands etc). You sleep in the same bed and you basically go on dates ("not-dates" lol). I think he'd be fine with like kisses to the lips and playful flirting, but he wouldn't want to make out or have sex. He would however love to cuddle naked lol (the intimacy without any sexual intent,,,, yeahyeah I hope you get me here I lovveee lovelove the idea of just touching him and it's just sweet and urghhghh)

Everyone else definitely thinks the two of you are in love and neither of you correct people because who cares

Esp Aventurine I don't think he WANTS others to know what you are to a point where he'll actively try to make it seem more like a romantic relationship in front of others

Because what you are is very precious to him, and he maybe feels just slightly maybe just a bit irrationally possessive over the concept of your relationship PLS

Like no he doesn't want anyone to understand your bond. That is SPECIAL. It is only for him and you to understand back off

I love my toxic unhealthy mentally deranged king

I think I've said everything I wanted to say now so I'm ending it off here. Worst case scenario I'll be back with a part 2 or a reblog to add more LMAO I just can't shut up bro

♡ ∩_∩ („• ֊ ���„)♡ |￣U U￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣| | Thanks for reading! | ￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

Thanks for reading I appreciate it !!! I hope this was at least somewhat comprehensible <3 Remember that my inbox is open and I lovelovelove to receive requests <3

[poppy-metal]

ahh that pretty woman au:((( would she be shy when she’s sober and avoid talking about what happened or would she just blurt everything like she did when she was drunk

shes definitely mortified when she sobers up - guilty too, for throwing herself at him and saying the things she said. she's embarrassed but her good conscious makes her want to apologize - she ends up making him food. she likes cooking, she makes him steak and side greens and even a pie - like patricks her husband - but she doesn't think about that. when patrick eventually comes back she has it all ready and waiting for him - her eyes hopeful. if she can feed patrick and take care of him and make him feel good then she'll be happy - she doesn't want anything else from him. she doesn't.

it's not the first time she's cooked a big meal for patrick, she does it alot - but it's the first time he's not eager to just dig in. he's still thinking about the other night. and he knows this is as much about avoidance as it is about apologizing. he bets she wants him to let her sweep it under the rug. pamper him and and be his friend -

but friends don't get on their knees and ask to suck your cock.

he approaches her - says. "you look better."

she does. obviously flushed - but less miserable and pathetic.

she brushes her hands down her little modest dress. it flutters just under her knees and he likes how it teases his imagination. makes him want to drag the fabric up - with his teeth.

"I- I feel better. I'm sorry about last night. I was - I wasn't in a good headspace, obviously. but -" she shakes her head. "- that wasn't a reason to snap at you and say the things I did."

he'd assumed she'd brush over it - and he could let her if he was a nicer person. but he's not.

he raises an eyebrow. "you mean when you slutshamed me?" his voice doesn't let on that the comment had stung when she'd said it. he shrugged. "you weren't wrong."

her lips tug down in a frown.

"I was." she insists. "whatever you.... whatever you do with your body, it doesn't define you. I of all people should know that. I guess I was just feeling - I was feeling small and undesirable and took it out on you. I'm sorry, patrick."

patrick swallows. he doesn't think anyone's seriously apologized to him in his life. either he's the one that fucked up - or they just can't bring themselves to admit that patricks a person worth apologizing too. he thinks briefly of art and tashi. how they'd probably both rather eat glass than mumble those very words.

it hits his chest - he's quiet for longer than he means to be, thinking. you look more and more guilty and he finally says, "thank you."

you sigh and your shoulders droop with the tension you'd been holding in your body. you start to turn around, probably to get to fixing the table - but patricks not done.

you're at the stove, in the middle of popping it open to check on the roast when he says from behind you -

"and what about the part where you wanted to suck my cock so bad you got on your knees for it? are you sorry for that?"

your hand freezes. your whole body freezes. you don't turn around. staring at your hand curled around the handle of the oven.

your instinct is to hide. to say it was just a drunken rambling, but you think about his fingers digging into your arms. his angry eyes and the words he'd said. they could have meant nothing. said in the heat of the moment, to make a point.

but what was an apology if you lied? probably patrick just saw you as a friend. probably he pitied you. but after what you'd done, he deserved the truth.

"that part.... I shouldn't have come onto you how I did. like that."

he says your name. something about it ignites a visceral reaction within you - your whole body heating up right to the tips of your ears. you turn around, because it was the unspoken ask. order. even though you keep your eyes down, wringing your hands nervously in front of you.

"how would you come onto me sober?"

you feel like lava is under your skin. your hands, palms sweating with nerves - you brush your hair away from your face. swallow. the room feels hot and stuffy.

"i..... I don't know." you admit honestly. "I've never.... I'm not.... I've never done something like that...."

you've never tried to seduce someone before. or been bold. you've dreamed about being the kind of woman who could go after what she wants, but you have no idea how to be that person.

patrick drags his bottom lip between his teeth - watching you squirm. he enjoys it way too fucking much. you have no idea how fucking sexy you are and it drives him crazy.

"do you want to?" he asks. and when you look up at him, confused - he elaborates. "do you want to suck my cock."

you gasp. he doesn't stop there though, he walks forward, backing you up until your hips hit the kitchen counter behind you. he looks down at you - at your fat bottom lip he's thought about doing disgusting things too.

"because if it was just a drunk fluke, you need to tell me now. but I don't think it was -" you're looking at his mouth, almost in a trance. your chest heaves up and down. "- I think you've been dying to wrap that sweet mouth of yours around a long hard cock for awhile." he dips his head a little closer, nose almost bumping against yours. "I think you want me to put you on your knees and use your mouth like a dirty fuckin' whore. I think -" a hairs breath away from your lips now. "you want me to make a proper woman out of you. hm? you wanna feel what it's like to be wanted so bad - to be the kind of pussy that drives a man fucking insane."

fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck.

"you do." he adds, forehead touching yours. "you drive me fucking crazy."

you let out something that sounds like a sob - and then you close the distance between your lips.

[camels-pen]

post-timeskip Sanji is sent back in time to a point before Sabaody. I don't really have a whole thing for this, just Sanji having to restrain himself from yelling at his younger self to please, dear god, do NOT let Usopp get sent to Boin on his own.

He's also taking a lot of time to drag Usopp to the kitchen and give him lessons on proper nutrition and cooking. Usopp- as with everyone else- is very confused. Sanji's the cook, isn't he? That's his job, not Usopp's.

Sanji has to make up some excuse about being sick once and Usopp planning and cooking meals so badly that it has haunted him for years. Man, having a chronic liar and storyteller for a boyfriend is really rubbing off on him. Not that he's complaining at the moment.

Despite his confusion, Usopp genuinely has a good time with Sanji. Especially since he's not really cooking, more just writing stuff down in a notebook while Sanji lists off different recipes and why they're good to know off the top of his head. He doesn't understand why every recipe seems like they'd be best suited for camping out in a large, killer bug and plant-infested forest- specific, yes, but also Sanji keeps making a note about that after he lists off each recipe. Usopp is going to avoid thinking about it too deeply.

Younger Sanji, meanwhile, is pouting and denying it to anyone who points it out. His kitchen gets commandeered and it feels like his older self is mocking him. Like every time he pulls Usopp to the galley, he's saying, "Look how easily I can touch him, compliment him, make him laugh. Look how weak and cowardly you are." and younger Sanji can't stand it.

He'd grown a bit distant from Usopp since realizing his romantic feelings for him back in Water 7- and isn't that fucked up? it was only after they were in a hotel for the night, Usopp well and truly not a part of the crew anymore, that Sanji had felt an aching in his heart. The same ache that followed him now, though it's far more pleasant than it had been in that hotel.

Eventually, there's some kind of portal that appears high above Sunny and very distant high pitched screaming. Familiar high pitched screaming.

"SANJI!"

Sanji gets a big grin on his face and without thinking he uses Sky Walk to meet the quickly growing speck in the shape of a person. He holds out his arms and catches a flailing post-TS Usopp in his arms.

"Oh thank god," he said, quickly wrapping his arms around Sanji's neck. Sanji lowered them down to the deck and they were immediately surrounded.

"Holy shit, I'm buff!" younger Usopp said.

"Did Sanji-san just jump into the sky?!" Brook exclaimed, with similar sentiments echoed by Luffy and Chopper, sparkles in their eyes. "How- what- how?"

"Older Usopp's outfit is looking pretty super too!"

"You're only saying that because I'm half-naked Franky," Usopp said, unimpressed. "Don't put me on the same level as you, weirdo."

"Haha, sure thing, no need for flattery."

"It wasn't."

"Not that I'm not enjoying all this- and loving that you're here, mon cher," -younger Sanji's eye twitched- "but you have a surefire route back, right?"

"Of course!" He pointed up at the still open portal above Sunny. "Zoro's threatening the devil fruit user to keep that open until we come back. He was actually the one to find the guy in the first place."

Sanji groaned. "Mossball's never gonna let me forget it."

"It's nice that some things stay the same." younger Zoro said, smug. "I still have to bail your ass out all the time."

"Shut the fuck up!" both Sanji's yelled simultaneously.

Usopp laughed. "He gets into his share of trouble, but Zoro, you really shouldn't say anything. I mean, just wait until you lose your-"

Sanji slapped a hand over Usopp's mouth. "They're not there yet, darling."

Younger Sanji and younger Usopp's faces darkened.

Sanji could feel Usopp pout under his hand. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

Sanji rolled his eye. "I can guess."

"I could've meant his favourite haramaki. Or one of his swords. Or-"

"Dear, there's only one thing you constantly bring up that mosshead lost. I get that he's never told anyone how it happened, but you really need to let it go."

"How can a storyteller let go of a mystery like that?? You might as well ask me to cut off my tongue right now."

"Ah, but then how would you taste all the snacks I make for you?"

"You know, I survived for two years on a deadly, man eating island with nothing but-"

Younger Usopp loudly cleared his throat. Sanji and Usopp turned to him. With his flush still very visible, he said, "You can get down now."

"Aww, but Sanji's arms are comfy," Usopp whined, nuzzling Sanji's neck.

Younger Sanji stomped towards them. "Either older me lets you down, or I-"

Sanji raised a brow. "You what? You're just an arrogant brat sailing through Paradise. No matter what you do, you can't force me- either of us, to do anything."

Younger Sanji bristled and Sanji was starting to feel like taking him down another peg, make him know his own faults before they're cruelly laid out in front of him, one crewmate disappearing after another. Usopp tugged on his collar, stopping him.

"We talked about this," Usopp said.

Sanji took a deep breath. "Yeah." He turned to his younger self. "Sorry, it's- I'm angry at myself. Not you."

"But aren't we-?"

Sanji shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

And with a few more accidental slip ups and very obvious flirting, Sanji and Usopp bid their pre-timeskip crew adieu and Sanji flies them up to the portal. Usopp definitely says something along the lines of "I'm so glad you're okay, I was really worried and I don't know what I'd do without you." and then he and Sanji share a kiss mid-air before finally going through the portal.

The portal snaps shut and most of the crew ends up hanging out and talking about what the heck just happened in a "oh huh, what an interesting event" type of way. Meanwhile, younger Sanji and Usopp are staring, mouths agape and incredibly flustered, at the spot where their older selves made out with each other.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

How do you think Color and Something New Chara would have interacted if they got to meet each other? Like, if Color stumbled across the Something New AU in that period of time when Killer and Chara were running rampant together still.

I've been trying to figure that out, but you know way more about Color than me, so I wanna hear your opinion

If Killer were still with Chara, I can’t imagine him being willing to even listen to Color. Any doubts Color starts to raise would feel threatening, like he’s trying to take away everything Killer knows.

I think Chara would feel heavily threatened by Color, over time. Especially if they can tell that Color has the other human souls with him.

So not only would he be magically powerful, he’s also another Sans—who could serve as way to make Killer start questioning himself, and by extension, Chara, because Stage 1 would be primed to be triggered. Which means attempts to go against the Player or leave Chara.

Color would probably be pulled in a few directions—all by the souls. He’d definitely be able to recognize the hold Chara has over Killer, but I don’t know if Color is aware of Players by this point or not.

Color wouldn’t agree with anything Chara is doing, I’d say his justice and integrity would push him to be very upfront and blunt about it (which would immediately other him in Chara and Killer’s eyes) but I do think he’d seek to understand why they’re doing this.

Seeing as he was able to intuitively sense that he and his group were in danger in the Sans Hazard comics and is able to intuitively sense that Killer’s words never matched up to his actions in their more canon story, he’d probably be able to tell over time when something isn’t adding up about Chara.

He may not directly guess Player involvement, besides taking into account the possibility based on what Killer has said, but here’s the thing; Killer probably sounds indoctrinated by those who aren’t meta aware. Brainwashed, if you want to use that term.

There’s no viable proof of a Creators’ or controllers existence besides word of mouth of a few individuals.

To anyone else, it may sound like Killer is delusional, indoctrinated into some type of religion or magical thinking, coping, or using it to avoid taking responsibility for his actions or facing what happened to him, and what he did as a result.

So i think Color would be cautious about trying to understand why Chara is doing what they do, why they drag Killer with them—and he’d try to be both rational and fair without getting sucked into it.

I think he’d also help Killer realize that he doesn’t just have to go along with this stuff—-such as stepping in and protecting people when the buttercup duo want to kill them, healing people they hurt, and asking very pointed questions about Chara and Killer’s beliefs. And if Chara tries to do their usual gaslighting and manipulating, he’d call that shit out immediately and shut it down.

I also think he’d probably ask Killer specific questions—even Killer likely doesn’t trust Color at all during these moments.

Such as whenever Killer immediately neglects himself to attend to Chara, despite how Killer is literally covered in blood and injuries, asking questions like “Why can’t Chara do that themself?” and “why can’t they just Reset?” and “Do they ever take care of you?”

He’d ask similar questions to Chara, too. “Why do you need him to do that for you?” and “You have this look on your face when he does that. Remind you of something? Or..someone?” He’d point out how often Chara projects Asriel on to Killer.

But ultimately this isn’t Color’s timeline, and the human is still the most Determined, the one who controls the Resets. If his six souls don’t have the capacity to protect him, Color could still also be trapped under the human’s control. Especially if he can’t leave.

I don’t think Color could get anywhere with either Chara or Killer if the human still holds all the power there. Color would stop them from hurting eachother or anyone else, point out how the shit they do isn’t okay or normal.

I do know Color would never force or take Killer away from Chara, because it’ll only serve to make Killer distrust him and attempt to go back to Chara if he never wanted to leave in the first place, though.

So instead he’d focus on trying to protect Killer from Chara, and protect the residents of the Underground from Killer and Chara, and try to understand and get through to Chara at the same time.

Color would be something new, something real, in a way Chara wouldn’t like. Killer may just be curious—fascinated—about him, but perhaps he’d be more inclined to wanting to keep Color. If only because he’s so interesting and new and entertaining, and Killer wants to figure him out.

Perhaps Color is like a gift, or even a new partner, from them.

Killer would probably be drawn to the way Color challenges and confronts him (and Chara, something likely believed to be inconceivable to Killer), finding the arguments between Chara and Color amusing, the way he still decides to take care of him, Chara, and even the ones who aren’t real—and is still willing to stop both him and Chara whatever way he has to, regardless of the Reset.

Regardless if Color knows it’s all pointless in the end.

Killer would be inclined to challenge Color’s views right back, try to tempt him into doing what he and Chara do, or maybe try to tempt him to even take Chara’s place, if he’s already decided that he doesn’t need Chara anymore via Color’s arrival. But he’d just be trying to hand control over him back from Chara over to Color.

Which is why i think it was very important that he turned against Chara himself, and made that choice himself—even within the framework of what made him.

[hanzajesthanza]

a lot of the “haha geralt is so annoyed by his friends!!” talk reduces the relationship of geralt & co. to the events of baptism of fire—baptism of fire geralt is very enjoyable to read, but lady of the lake geralt is the final evolution of a beautiful development of character. we really ought to talk more often about how his relationship with his company developed over the next two books and how by the end of it, he felt entirely responsible for their fates.

it can’t really be said that the hanza didn’t mean a lot to geralt and he would have chosen ciri & yen over them no problem. by the end of it he really valued their friendship and company. he literally identified himself as their leader, embraced his role as their leader. only with their company, he was finally able to fully ascended to what he is at heart and who he was meant to be, what his character was created to be: a hero.

he never liked to play sacrificial games. the entire reason he shunned (the majority of) the company (sorry cahir, he took extra issue with you) was that it was too dangerous of an undertaking, and he did not want to risk the lives of anyone else for his personal matters, sticking their necks out for him. it wasn’t just because he’s an old grump and sourpuss—he literally tells this to dandelion and milva multiple times, that he doesn’t want them dying because of him.

he decided against anything that would have put milva in danger when she was pregnant, refusing to risk her life or her unborn child’s life—remaining adamant that he would not sacrifice her child’s life for his own. and similarly when codringher presented him the hypothetical of pawning a decoy girl off on emhyr, he was disgusted at the thought of trampling the life of some innocent girl for the safety of his own.

virtuous to a fault, geralt abhors stepping on another to lift himself up. he won’t even kill innocent creatures to make a quick buck—they have to be real dangers—which, of course, makes him not only poorer and hungrier, but fighting, you guessed it, more dangers. this makes geralt unlike many of the other characters we’re presented with, who, even though they may not want to, agree to make sacrifices for their personal interests or the greater good (though, what’s the difference—the lodge and emhyr called their personal interests the greater good. that’s a big point of how the decisions of those in power is deconstructed in the saga).

i don’t think geralt would have sacrificed his company, given a choice.

but he did choose, of course, despite not being given a choice. it was a necessary sacrifice, though geralt, being the man he is, would never have made such a choice given the option (like the trolley problem—he’s impossible, he would continue to insist that neither of these choices are good and he doesn’t want to choose). i don’t want to kill either shrike or stregobor, i don’t want to take a side in the war, i don’t want to ride to cintra and claim my destiny. the whole saga is about how no matter if you decide to choose or not to choose, destiny still makes you choose. even if you think you can deny and avoid the choice. and after such denial, it stops asking you nicely. death dogs his footsteps, but death couldn’t catch up with him (for a while, at least), so it had to settle for others… the hanza are another, perhaps a final, manifestation of this lesson—calanthe and cintra being the first victims.

he and cahir dragged milva’s dead and bleeding body to safety, risking their own lives in the hail of arrows which rose again once she had fallen. his noble and virtuous heart still looked for cahir and angoulême in the corridor after the fighting had ceased, waiting for them to come out of the empty hall, before ciri shook her head to tell him no one would be coming down it. his scream rung in the air with regis’ as regis was being torn apart. and he, in pain and exhausted, remembered him, to yennefer when she asked, as a friend, and managed to utter some beautifully kind words in his memory.

i don’t think someone like geralt (feeling responsible for deaths of innocents whether they’re even his fault or not) would ever truly get over the loss of his company. after having, with ciri, buried them, by the foot of stygga castle, having to drag the bodies out one by one, close their glassy eyes, mound the wet and cold earth over them. and regretfully glance back at the melted stone column he cannot bury. he was woefully dreary after stygga, and kept returning to their memory as they retraced their steps into the sansretour valley. reminding himself about the sword of destiny with two edges… and again at rivia mourning them with the dwarven company.

we can at least sigh with relief that destiny allowed him to keep dandelion. it had to, because he is just, after all “like a burr on a dog’s tail”—destiny did not quite manage to slip its noose around his neck, for he did not touch destiny, but instead tagged alongside it. (plus, the cameraman never dies). if dandelion died, it would have broken geralt well and truly. it was the longest and deepest connection he ever had. the same goes for the reverse, of course 😬

[kairiscorner]

hi there!! :)) I saw that ur requests were open again and I wanted to ask if you could do a hc or short fic(?) for like a Hobie x Spiderperson! reader where they've got this vibe that they're dating???

Like whenever anyone asks about it they have no clue and reject the idea since Hobie doesn't believe in labels and the reader doesn't want to be tied down. But! they both get suuuper jealous whenever either of them gets too close/flirts with other people and drags them away or smth huehruehdids

Maybe they confess??? What if one time the jealousy gets too much or one of them got really hurt and the other realizes that they might never be able to tell the other their feelings? Maybe a big kiss at the end bc of the exploding feelings? That's all, thank you and have a great day!!! :DD

HI ANONNNN <33 omg i love so much WHAT i hope i do this justice <:))

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

"so... are you two a, y'know, a thing?"

questions like these never fail to keep you quick on your toes, especially since nothing could be farther from the truth. you and hobie were just good friends, really good friends. just a couple of buds that always had each other's back when battles go awry, or when the other gets in trouble for a few stunts here and there. you two were just... very close, is what you would call it, neither of you really used labels to express what you two were to each other.

hobie hated labels anyway to begin with, never believed in them and certainly doesn't want to use them to describe his relationship with you. he never felt the need to, all he was certain of was that if you were there for him, he'd obviously be there for you–even if you never asked for him to be, it was always a given.

you yourself were a free-spirited type of person, you refused to be weighed down by commitment when you already had yourself to worry about. and besides... you didn't feel anything for hobie, did you? nah, you didn't, you just thought that he was really, really cool. and awesome. and inspiring. and rebellious for the right reasons. and so... just, just a lot of amazing things.

you two wanted to make it clear: there was nothing going on between you two. and even though you convinced some of the folks at the spider society, a lot of others were still highly skeptical of you two, not that you guys cared, you two knew each other well. or so you both thought.

though hobie was always your first pick for a partner on a mission, you were being paired up with a lot of different spider people recently. and though it was no problem for hobie, you worried about leaving him alone. "hey, now, don't get all sentimental on me. i never believed in consistency, anyway. you're amazing, of course everyone wants you on their team. i'll catch you on the flipside," he'd tell you something along those lines and just... be gone for the rest of the day.

you tried not to worry so much, but guilt ate away at you sometimes and distracted you. but soon, this routine became more and more commonplace for you two, to the point that it distracted you seldom times when you heard that hobie was okay, he wasn't avoiding you, he was just... off somewhere else, and that much was enough to put you at ease.

you hung around the new people you met more and more often, even when hobie was around. you never meant to replace him, you could never do that; you just had your own life, and hobie... hobie knew. he understood that not every day can be for you two to share together, but honestly, he wished he didn't have to share your attention with these other guys, despite how well they mean, he wanted just you and him together for one more day; one more day, just like how it all was before this new change in routine.

little did hobie know that wish would come true sooner than he thought; for as you two were sent on a mission together, with just you two together, hobie had to admit how much he missed you--how much he wanted for things to be the way they once were. "i know i said i never believed in consistency, labels, and... i don't. but when it comes to you, i just have these thoughts, these thoughts of seeing you smile because of me, feeling your hand in mine after a long fight, getting together to make mischief and getting each other out of it--i really missed that... i missed you."

and you thought you were crazy for hearing that right then and there, because you yourself felt that exact same way. "i... i really missed you, too, hobie." you'd admit, and that was all the admission hobie needed to hear. "if you'll let me, may i... show you just how much i've missed you?" he ask as he brings his hand to your cheek and gazes into your eyes as you become more and more embarrassed about your feelings for him, but so was he when he realized you were, and are, all he ever loved.

you agreed, and in the blink of an eye, his lips were on yours. you felt his piercings, they were cold amidst both of your lips touching each other, but you two fit so well together; you two were each other's missing link, the only one who can right each other's wrongs and make them feel much more... alive.

though you two still refused to give other people any labels when asked about you two--because how was it their business, right?--you two knew just the other meant to you: it was ride or die with you, and only you; nobody else could replace or be the other, you're all he'll ever want, and he's all you could ever hope to love.

a/n: I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD AAAAAAAA, I REALLY LOVED WRITING THIS THOUGH <333

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @ii01vq @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @fictarian @pixqlsin

[bluepenstemon]

a small soldezangelo blurb from a fic i was gonna write but lost interest so i need someone to force me to write it

You haven’t known true fear until you’re being dragged into the Infirmary by an extremely angry, yet gentle son of Apollo. Will Solace currently had Leo and Nico clutched by the wrists as he dragged them across camp.

“Now, I think this is all just a little bit dramatic!” Leo exclaimed.

Will just glared at him and flung the door to the Infirmary open. Then he dragged the boys inside and sat them down on a cot each. His eyes were wide with concern and wrinkles were etched into his forehead.

“Is this really… necessary?” Nico asked quietly, fiddling with his fingers. The moment he and Leo had gotten back to camp, Will had practically tackled them both and dragged them here without explanation.

“Yes! You’ve just about killed yourself with your shadow travelling,” Will looked at Nico pointedly, then turned to Leo. “And you actually died for gods’ sake!”

“I wasn’t going to kill myself,” Nico argued, avoiding eye contact and looking pointedly down.

Will made a noise of disgruntlement and leaned forward to grab Nico’s wrist. Or he tried to, but Nico was about 50% shadows, so his hand went straight through, before his wrist became solid again and Will could grab him. Will cocked his eyebrow as if to say ‘see what I mean?’

“Okay, I didn’t really die-” Leo started.

This time, Will and Nico gave him a pointed look. “I felt your death!” Nico exclaimed at the same time Will shouted, “have you seen yourself lately?”

Will gestured up and down with his hand. Leo was covered in burns and scratches from his death and his skin still had a slightly ghostly tint to it from coming back to life. Nico desperately wanted to ask what had happened, but he sensed that Will might kill them himself if they didn’t do what he said.

Will groaned and pulled his hands over his face. “You two are going to be the death of me!” He murmured as he started to pace the Infirmary, grabbing things.

Leo sighed dramatically and started to open the drawers of the bedside table next to him. Will seemed to appear next to him almost immediately. “Do not touch anything!” He ordered, smacking Leo with a popsicle stick.

“Ack! Calm down, man. You’re freakin’ me out!” Leo exclaimed. He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m freaking you out?! You just died! You’re freaking everybody else out!” Will exclaimed before shoving a glass of water into Leo’s hands. Then he walked around the cot to Nico and thrust a glass of water into his hands as well.

“Both of you drink that,” Will ordered with a horrifying look in his eye.

People said that Nico was scary, but he had never been more scared than he was right now. No one had so aggressively tried to care for him before. It was terrifying and also… unexpected? Nico hadn’t thought anyone would even notice he was gone, looking for Leo. He knew Leo’s death had been weird and he couldn’t sleep without knowing what happened.

Will took a deep breath before speaking again. This time his tone was a lot more gentle and soft, as if Nico and Leo were breakable.

“I’m going to start with you since I’m not sure what I’m even supposed to do with you,” he explained, turning to Leo.

Nico shrugged, but Leo got all dramatic.

“He’s more at stake! He’s half shadows for gods’ sake! Deal with him first,” Leo pouted.

Will stared at him for a moment or two and then gestured at Nico. “What am I supposed to do with him other than watch him and make sure he doesn’t disappear!”

[mrghostrat]

dude. that reverse bnf fic sounds SO fucking good… the ideas u have cooking up in there… i’m excited just thinking abt it ASKFNKF

YAAAS THANK YOU

i had more thoughts today... thinkin of the ask i got about the "i'll always know the stain was there" scene and how i've never written that before. which. ofc. turned into more ace porn.

Aziraphale spills wine on himself at Crowley’s place. He’s resigned to throw the shirt away. Crowley, Mr minimalist clean freak, rolls his eyes and takes charge of cleaning it off. Aziraphale hesitates then takes his undershirt off too, and Crowley bluescreens. Aziraphale half-asks him, “I’d hate for it to be stained too. It might be an undershirt, but I’d always know the stain was there.” Crowley takes it as well, leaving Aziraphale shirtless in his house.

While they sit around and he scrubs on his homemade stain remover, Aziraphale sits a little shyly, clearly affected. His nipples are hard. Crowley gathers the courage to ask him if it turns him on. “What, you cleaning??” “No. Being exposed like that. The air on your skin.” Aziraphale hesitates because he thinks Crowley is calling him out on some kind of abnormal kink or fetish, so he deflects, “Is that some ace thing as well?” not expecting Crowley to say yes. Crowley sits next to him.

“For me anyway. It’s not the person who turns me on, it’s the touch. So, sometimes, that touch comes from unexpected places. Cold tile on my skin after a shower. Satin sheets.” Aziraphale noticeably shivers.

“S’why I like, personally… Being teased. Light touches; Chasing after it. That anticipation adds to the sensation.” He grazes a hand over Aziraphale’s bare arm and Aziraphale gasps. Crowley laughs at him.

“Ffs. No wonder you struggle getting off if you’re watching the same porn everyone else does. Probably Google Imaging boring old pin ups of girls in fancy bras—“ Aziraphale gives him a LOOK, so Crowley adjusts, “—Or, Boys in skimpy briefs. What good’s that going to do if you can’t imagine how they’d touch you?”

Aziraphale is momentarily perplexed. “You know, I can’t think the last time anyone assumed me anything other than flamingly gay,” but it somehow doesn’t feel avoidant of the topic, he’s just so caught off guard by it.

Crowley’s suddenly a little annoyed, mostly at The World, but a little bit creeps in towards Aziraphale. “Assuming doesn’t help anyone. It only gets people confused about the boxes they’re meant to fit into. Bloody useless things, boxers. Er, boxes.”

His fingers have been dragging idly up and down Aziraphale’s thigh the whole conversation.

He stops when he realises Aziraphale’s hands are strategically placed in his lap. Crowley stops. Apologises, didn’t realise what an effect he was having, he just wanted to make a point—

But Aziraphale hasn’t felt like this in such a long time. He’s worked himself off, but nothing’s compared to this feeling of anticipation and bone deep arousal. He somehow finds the words to ask if Crowley would keep going. Show him what kind of touches he likes, maybe it would be informative. Crowley gets him off on the sofa, teasing and working him to a climax that has him death gripping Crowley’s arm and whimpering into his neck.

-------

Later, hours or days later, Aziraphale is watching Crowley move around the house, maybe in his pants or a towel or something, but being totally innocuous. As innocuous as Aziraphale’s voice when he pipes up, completely unprompted, “I don’t think I’m asexual, Crowley.”

“This again?” Crowley’s exasperation is fond.

“No. Sometimes the sight of you makes me want to… Pin you against a wall or something.”

Crowley freezes, a mental ngk that takes a few minutes to reboot him. He tries and fails to sound casual and unaffected when he says “Maybe you’re demi,” and keeps folding his laundry like Aziraphale hasn’t just shoved a hot poker into his brain.

“Mmm,” Aziraphale agrees, even though Crowley knows he doesn’t know what that means, but he’s too busy leching to follow up and ask.

[haddonfieldwhore]

scary dog privilege - ethan landry

ethan landry x alt!reader

❤️🔪 spoilers for scream 6 🔪❤️

❤️🔪 spoilers for scream 6 🔪❤️

2.2k words // part 2

warnings: death mentioned, drinking, someone gets tasered, making out, language, i think that’s it

as the music at the party blared loudly, ethan’s eyes darted towards you as chad, as usual, tried to be his wingman and find him a potential hookup. chad followed ethan’s gaze and after one look at you, he laughed at his friend.

“them? no way dude, they would eat you alive.” he said, but ethan was busy admiring the dark tattoos covering your arms and your chunky black boots that must have made you at least a few inches taller. “they’re scary- trust me.” chad tried again to shift ethan’s attention to anyone else at the party.

you had gone to highschool with chad and his friends and had heard about the attacks that happened to them. to your surprise, all of you ended up at the same college in new york. you had talked to a few of them once or twice, and had econ with ethan, who you thought was cute. you also had film studies with mindy and a few of the others but you didn’t know them very well. you were someone who tended to keep to yourself, and sometimes was avoided by others for the way you dress. it led to you being a bit closed off, and you knew that to people you didn’t know, you could come across as mean. you were used to be judged for the way you looked, and had long ago decided you wouldn’t take shit from anyone for it, or any other reason, for that matter.

pushing through the crowd, you made your way into the kitchen to get another drink, passing by the two men as you did. you over heard chad trying to set ethan up with a pretty brunette girl, who politely shrugged off the idea and went back to her friends. after getting your drink, you turned to see that ethan now stood alone, no sign of chad anywhere. deciding to take advantage of the fact that he was alone, you walked over and stood next to ethan.

“ethan- right?” you asked, even though you knew his name from class. he seemed to choke on his drink a little, perhaps surprised that you had come over to talk to him, but smiled shyly.

“hi- yeah. we have econ together,” he replied.

“i know, i sit at the table next to yours.” you said, and realized it might’ve sounded a little too snarky. “what i mean is- i’ve seen you in class.”

“oh - duh.” he laughed, blushing. you had never noticed how tall he was, still taller than you in your platform boots. “are you here by yourself or…” he trailed off.

“yeah. i saw you with chad earlier- did he abandon you?” you asked.

“uh yeah.. apparently his services were needed elsewhere,” ethan laughed. you leaned against the wall next to him, and his shoulders tensed briefly before he relaxed again.

“lucky me; i get you all to myself then.” you smiled, and the brunette blushed again but smiled back.

“don’t take this the wrong way- but you don’t really seem the type to go to frat parties,” he said with a slight laugh.

“i’m not,” you admitted. “i thought since it’s for halloween i would. you don’t really seem the type either-“

“uhh you’re telling me i don’t give off the vibe that i’d fit in here?” he asked sarcastically. “i don’t give off the same aura of hyper masculinity as the rest of the guys here?” he laughed.

“not exactly no,” you smiled. “i’m glad you’re here though; even a slightly a familiar face is nice to see.” you eyes drifted to the empty cup he was holding. “do you want to get another drink?” you asked. ethan looked down and noticed that his cup was in fact empty, and nodded.

“yeah, uh -lead the way,” he said, and you took his hand, dragging him along in the direction of the kitchen. stopping in a near empty hallway, you stopped, pulling him close to you, and in turn positioning yourself between the wall and his body.

“i think the kitchen is that way…” he said, with a slightly confused look as he pointed in the other direction.

“do you want to get another drink or do you want to kiss me?” you asked, and his eyes grew wide.

“oh i mean..yeah i-“ he stuttered, a tinge of pink across his cheeks as you pulled him closer by his shirt, pressing your lips to his. the empty cup in has hand fell to the floor as his hands hesitantly landed on your hips, and you entwined your fingers in his curls, deepening the kiss. you were a little surprised by how good of a kisser he was, and you let out a small gasp as you felt his teeth tug at your bottom lip, and his pelvis press against yours, effectively pinning you against the wall. his one hand traveled up to rest on the side of your neck, and you tugged on his hair slightly, causing ethan to groan into the kiss. pulling away to catch your breath, you began to trail kisses down his neck, and he cursed under his breath as you left a hickey below his jawline.

you separated as you both heard a commotion in the other room, and went to see what was going on. the two of you rounded the corner to see a bunch of people gathered around as tara’s older sister sam, pulled out a taser and used it on a guy who you had seen talking to tara earlier. he fell to the ground in pain as chad checked on tara, who was laying on the stairs.

people started whispering (and speaking out loud) about sam, and tara yelled at her before storming out of the party. chad, sam, mindy, and anika all followed after her, and ethan looked at you before bravely grabbing your hand and dragging you after his friends.

as the group caught up to tara, her and sam began arguing, and you couldn’t help but feel incredibly out of place in the group of strangers. another group of drunk people passed by, one of them tossing a drink on sam and videotaping it, calling her a bunch of vile names like psycho and murderer. sam had to be held back from starting a fight with the girl, and you shot the girl a nasty look and a yelled a few choice words at her as she left with her friends.

tara had run off, followed by chad mindy and anika, leaving sam stood next to you end ethan, who you realized was still holding your hand. he let go of it to nervously offer the older carpenter sister a few tissues he had in his pocket, which she took and began to dry her shirt. she then gave ethan a look as if to say “why are you still standing there” before she noticed you.

“…thanks - i’ve never had a stranger stick up for me like that.” she said.

“prissy bitches like her piss me off,” you smiled, and she sighed before looking in the direction the others had gone. the three of you headed that way, sam slightly ahead of you inadvertently leading the way.

now in an unfamiliar apartment, you had never felt more out of place in your life. sam was pacing around the lobby downstairs, and tara had holed up in her bedroom when you got to their apartment. mindy and anika were sat together on the couch. after a few minutes, chad went to talk to tara, which left you and ethan alone, sitting at the dining table awkwardly.

“sorry- i didn’t mean to drag you along.” ethan said, fiddling with his hands on the table. “i’m sure this is not what you had in mind when you went to the party tonight.”

“it’s fine, although it seems like maybe it’s not the best time,” you laughed. “i think i should go.”

“i - maybe you’re right,” he admitted. you stood up from the table, taking your phone out of your pocket and handing it to him after unlocking it and opening a new contact.

“give me your number; we can study for econ together sometime.” he looked up at you and took your phone, typing his number in before handing it back to you. as his hand reached yours, you grabbed it and started to pull him towards you. “walk me out?”

“yeah, sure,” he said, getting up and leading you to the door. the two of you were almost downstairs when you hear chads voice calling after you to get back upstairs and saying to bring sam with you.

looking at ethan with a confused look, the two of you walked back up the many flights of stairs and into the living room to see everyone gathered around the tv, including a red haired girl you assumed was tara and sams roomate. sam was close behind you guys, along with a guy you had never seen, but the red head seemed to recognize, as she shot sam a surprised look at seeing them together. after you were all back in the apartment, everyone’s eyes were glued to a news broadcast where there was a man reporting the deaths of two students named jason and greg.

“oh my god- that’s that chode from our film class; the one obsessed with argento!” mindy exclaimed, and you realized that must be why he look familiar. across the screen then flashed photos of the ghostface mask you knew to be the one the killers from the woodsboro murders had worn, and without realizing, you grabbed onto ethan’s hand in fear.

“pack a bag- we leave in 10.” sam said to tara, and the younger girl stared at her sister.

“what?” tara asked.

“we’re getting out of the city.”

“can we talk about this for a minute? i mean it could have nothing to do with us-“

“tara, this isn’t a coincidence. you knew him!”

“barely,” tara pleaded. “it’s a big city! and it’s halloween- everyone’s wearing masks.”

“chad, mindy, back me up here,” sam said, looking to the siblings who both looked a little unsure.

“i mean it is… a little-“ chad started.

“-close to home.” mindy admitted. tara looked to the ginger girl, a pleading look in her eyes.

“quinn, your dads a cop right? can you call him and find out what’s going on? before you make the unilateral decision to abandon my college education and make us flee the fucking state?” she said, turning to sam.

“i’ll call him right now,” quinn nodded, pulling out her phone. as quinn began to diall the number, sams phone began to ring on the dining room table. the whole room went silent, and everyone looked at sam as she went over to see who was calling. she declined the call, putting her phone in her pocket.

“why did everyone just freak out when her phone rang?” ethan asked, and anika rolled her eyes at him.

“you gotta keep up, my dude.” she sighed. mindy’s eyes landed on you, and it was like everyone finally noticed you were there.

“who’s this?” she asked, pointing in your direction and looking around the room at everyone as she waited for an answer. you tried to not take it personal, but couldn’t help but feel like you had overstayed your welcome.

“uh everyone, this is y/n,” ethan introduced you shyly, and you gave an awkward wave.

“no way dude-“ chad said, recognizing you from the frat party. “you actually grew a pair and talked to them? wait…. is that a hickey?”

“not now, chad,” tara sighed.

“uh… i’ll have you know they talked to me first.” ethan said, and you nudged ethan in the ribs playfully with your elbow as chad came over to high five him.

“well this was fun and all but it seems like you all have a lot going on so i think i’m gonna head out,” you said.

“not so fast,” mindy said. “until we know what’s going on you’re not going anywhere. same goes for you, new guy” she said pointing to the guy who sam had with her.

“do you mean i’m a suspect? i barely know any of you?” you questioned.

“uhhh someone adjacent to us gets killed and now suddenly 2 strangers show up- maybe you’ve found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time but after last year; i’m not taking any chances.” you looked at the man, who shrugged. you had to admit, mindy had a point.

“dude-“ ethan looked at chad, and you appreciated that he was trying to back you up.

“sorry man, i’m with my twin on this one.”

“thank you.” mindy replied. “actually- we’re all suspects. but especially you three.” she pointed to you, ethan, and sams friend, who introduced himself as danny.

“me? chad you know me,” ethan argued.

“everybody is a suspect.” mindy insisted. “we thought we knew amber and look how that turned out.”

“ok, i can understand being suspicious but are you not realizing that we all have alibis- we were all at the party except for quinn. it literally couldn’t have been any of us.”

“and quinn was here- with someone,” anika added.

“see? look i won’t pretend i understand what you all went through, but maybe you’re overreacting a little,” you said.

“maybe not.” sam said, entering the room again. “they said i have to go to the station for questioning. everyone stays here for now, there’s safety in numbers.” she said before leaving, danny and tara following after her, saying they had to stick together.

“even you newbie.” mindy said pointing at you, and you raised your hands in mock surrender. you grabbed ethan’s hand and pulled him to sit on one of the armchairs in the living room, before placing yourself in his lap. his eyes were wide in surprise before he relaxed against into the chair.

everyone awkwardly went back to minding their own business, mindy switching the channel off the broadcast to something more entertaining to take everyone’s mind off things. anika, chad, and mindy sat on the couch while quinn sat on another chair. you all sat in silence occasionally eyeing eachother nervously.

what had you gotten yourself wrapped up in?