#it was not a yearning I was aware needed to be satisfied

[scribl1ta]

A girl fell asleep with her head on my shoulder on the bus today

[puffcap-factory]

A crack upon the ice (Capitano x reader)

Capitano x gn!reader; bittersweet, longing, a hint of smut at the end.  

Basically, the reader used to be a Fatui, who worked closely *winkwink* with Capitano, but, circumstances forced you both to go your separate ways. And now, having been captured by a group of Fatui, you were unaware that Capitano was the one leading the group.

Words: 1.1k 

Notes:

oH My GOsh it’s been so long since I’ve updated. I just got into Natlan and hoLy MoLY Capitano O_o (please make him playable I beg of u hoyo) Even though there is currently not much info about him yet, I don’t think I can make myself wait. 

As always, please enjoy! 

•~•~•~•

The chill in the air was starting to bite as the heavy, deliberate footsteps grew closer. With your hands bound tightly behind your back, you had little choice but to lift your head slowly to the sound. You’d expended nearly all your energy fighting off countless Fatui skirmishers, but their numbers had overwhelmed you, leading to your capture. Your gaze shifted warily toward the cave entrance as a dark, imposing figure emerged from the shadows.

“You fought well.”

Was the first thing he said. His voice was calm but deep and stern. You looked up to meet his face. His mask concealed his entire face, and the elaborate furs of his massive cape seemed to absorb the dim light of the cave. It was none other than Capitano, the first of the Fatui Harbingers.

How long had you not seen him since you last left Snezhnaya? He put down the torch on the side and crouched down on one knee, maintaining the same eye level as he quietly observed you. 

“It seemed that my soldiers were lacking in honor and skill, I’ll need to remind them of their duties,” he mused, mostly to himself. “And you, y/n, managed to hold your own despite being outnumbered. Not entirely surprising, I suppose.”

He let out a low hum as you watched him with a cautious gaze, wary of the situation. With a subtle nod, he signaled to the Fatui guards who had accompanied him to leave. His attention remained fixed on you, as he was keenly aware of your cautiousness.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his tone firm but reassuring, “I have no intention of causing you harm.”

Though you knew he wasn’t one to indulge in needless violence, this was the first time you’d encountered him since you left the organization. You couldn’t be entirely sure of his intentions, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he might be hunting you down.

Although you had to admit, a part of you couldn’t deny the nostalgia—a yearning for what you once had with him—or at least for the familiar presence he had.

He extended his arm toward you, and you flinched instinctively. Capitano’s movement halted, his broad shoulders loosening as he studied your face with a contemplative gaze. You finally gave him a reluctant nod for him to approach, his hands working slowly to release your bound wrists. The moment your arms were free, you folded them in front of yourself, seeking solace from the biting cold night as you looked up at him.

He noticed the way you shivered slightly against the chill air, your movements slow and hesitant as you slowly dragged yourself towards the flickering torchlight. With a sigh of resignation at your constant silence, Capitano removed his imposing cape and carefully draped it over your shoulders. The immediate warmth was a welcome relief, and you visibly relaxed under its embrace.

“Better?”

You nodded in response. “Thank you.”

Capitano let out a satisfied hum as he finally heard your voice.

After a brief silence, you asked. “…Are you going to drag me back to Snezhnaya?”

He looked at you for a moment, his gaze inscrutable. “No,” he said, his voice gentle. “It wouldn’t end well for you.”

 A sliver of relief flickered in your eyes. “Then… are you going to release me?”

Capitano sighed, his gaze momentarily falling to the ground before meeting yours again. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached up to your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that took you by surprise. Your eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected gesture, before relaxing at the tenderness of his touch. You didn’t pull away; instead, you leaned into slightly, feeling a warmth and familiarity that you had missed.

With a gaze that felt almost pleading, you looked up at him and gently placed your hand on his. Capitano let out a soft exhale. His hand moved slowly to your hair, his fingers gently brushing away a stray strand to tuck it behind your ear.

“I will,” he whispered, his voice low. He repeated it, almost as if he needed to convince himself just as much as he needed to reassure you, “...I will.”

His touch lingered for a moment longer before he withdrew his hand and stood up. You could sense a subtle shift; his composure seemed to reassemble, masking the brief crack in his usual restraint.

“The night is cold,” he said, his voice returning to its usual firm tone as he stood up, turning towards the entrance. “It would be better if you set out when the sun is up.”

Capitano understood your reasons for leaving the organization. He recognized the validity of your stance; your vision and the organization’s goals no longer aligned, and he, too, had his own plans to pursue. Despite this, he couldn’t deny the value of the time spent together and the connection you had shared. It was a bittersweet realization—one that spoke to a mutual regret over how circumstances had unfolded. Though duty had called for your paths to diverge, the sentiment was clear: both of you wished things could have been different. 

And now, you wanted to linger a bit longer.

“Wait.”

Capitano turned his head back toward you.

You hesitated as you clung his cape a bit tighter. “The night is long… and cold.”

If there was one thing Capitano was known for, it was his unyielding restraint and composure. However, in this particular night, that control seemed to waver. 

You stood up and moved closer to the cave wall, the flickering torchlight highlighting your figure draped in his Fatui cape. Seeing you wrapped in his garment stirred a deep reminiscence of the past. Although it had been a while since he had last seen you, it was undeniable that he had longed for you—your presence, your warmth.

He took a deep breath and moved closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over you. He studied your face, as if grappling with some internal struggle as he inhales deeply, until something within him seemed to snap.

Your breath hitched as he suddenly pressed his body against you, your back pinned against the cave wall. He lowered his head into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing against your ear.

His hands moved from your hips to your legs, lifting you up against the wall so that your legs wrapped around his hips. You gasped as he started pressing kisses on your neck hungrily, your hand instinctively placed onto his back of his head in response. 

“Is this what you want?” he growled against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You let out a soft whimper and nodded.

“Then try to be quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I’ll warm you up tonight.”

[imorynn]

—-> GOOD GIRL ( a. o’connor)

➺ pairings : agnes o’connor • fem!reader

➺ genre / maintains : drabble, SMUT ( MDNI, 18+ ), masterbution, phone sex, somewhat daddy kink ( though it’s mocking ? Am I projecting ? I don’t fucking know. ) dirty talk, slight degradation, praise, nicknames ( sweetheart, slut, bunny, sweetheart, I am fucking feral—) mentions of strap usage ( Agnes’ part —)

➺ word count : 800+

➺ dividers by : @cafekitsune !!

“You pretty little troublemaker, just start touching that little pussy for me, hmm? Let me hear you…”

You were desirous in your bedroom at the sound of her velvet, taunting voice over the phone, it made the growing dampness in your panties almost unbearable. She was aware of where you were, and what you were anticipating. She was more than aware of how much you were waiting for it, yearning and heaving almost every late night as she departed from the police station house to demonstrate to you in unmediated experience what it was like to be mercilessly fucked until you collapsed.

Were you satisfied with who you had become? You, the sheltered-life, silent and bright-eyed succeeding young gal that you were within Westview? Is this what you had foreseen when you studied an eminent career in university and succeeded in graduating to pursue that very interest? Of course not. Though, the hours were long, and the days — while significant — they were crucial at the moment, and if your dating experience during these dull years has taught you anything, it was that dating those your age came with no fulfillment due to their lack of maturity and ability in making you feel safe, and desired. So, you took liking in an older audience — particularly Agnes O’Connor who was frankly not necessarily anywhere close to being stable and was constantly wavered with this peculiar aura you had yet to thoroughly discover, it seemed you relished in being fucked by a five-foot tall ( including five inches if you were to be specific) blue-eyed brunette who was around the age of 51 (or so it seemed) with a maturity and rogue confidence, sarcastic with no decency of your privacy, who knew precisely how to liquify your limbs and render your brain useless with the wet muscle of her tongue, and her smirking mouth, and her calloused fingers, and the sight, taste of her pussy, her str—

“Come on, sweetheart. I know you’re waiting for me, wearing nothing other than one of my flannels you love so much and those ribboned panties you know I like…” A deep inhale was heard from the other line — an expression you could already visualize the moment you heard the faint graze of fabric coming undone; pretty features shadowed by the dim light cast in that unkempt office of hers, jawline tight, pink lower lip tucked between her teeth with a quirk between her brows, pupils practically absorbing the blue hue of her eyes as they became wider, hazed. “Betcha’ there’s a wet spot in them from how needy you are to be fucked over and over until you cry on my fingers. Things are running a little slow for me down here, so you’ll have to get yourself nice and ready for me, how’s that sound, hon?”

The fingers of your right hand danced slowly down to where you needed them most while the other undid the remaining buttons of her flannel. When those spit-soaked lips of yours separated, one name laced with a title resided on your tongue, and it clamored from the pit of your heaving lungs the second shaking digits dragged between your slippery folds from entrance to sensitive clit. “Yes, detective Agnes…”

A subtle smirk laced her tone as she spoke, her satisfaction with the outcome unmistakable. “Good girl.”

In a fraction of a second, the sensation scorched and twisted and ached — you fervently welcomed it, and allowed it to increase. Whimpers and moans crawled your your throat and into the phone’s speaker while continuing your ministrations, attempting to recollect her every action and favor, because fuck, does she know how to work every bit of you with the same raw scrutiny she carried for her job.

“Goodness, bun, you’re gonna make me come with those dirty pretty sounds. Such a fucking slut, aren’t you? Two fingers, slooowly in and out … in and out before rubbing your clit, just like I do it.”

You sharply gasped, digits slowing down their erratic pumps, faint squelching sounds reaching your ears and you felt your own arousal oozing down the curve of your ass, soaking the pattern fabric clinging to you and into the mattress below. Your overbearing impatience clashed with her orders ; the faster you would cum, the faster she would come, the faster you get to experience the blaze of stars and feel yourself getting split open and filled to the brim. It was obscene, ferocious, nearly maddening how desperately you needed her, the extent to which you would go to continue experiencing the way she was making you feel every single damn night. It was filthy and boisterous as you continued fucking yourself with your delicate fingers, never as good as how she did it, yet sufficient enough to set the mood for what you anticipate will be a sprawling, enduring play.

Wet thrusts brought your orgasm closer, taking you higher each time you brushed your special spot.“You’re wet for me, aren’t you? Waiting for me to fuck you dumb with my strap? Waiting for daddy’s cock, huh?”

The deriding, no less titillating, octave in her tone — the nickname — made a searing heat crawl up your throats and spread across your already flushed cheeks. The visual of her mouth twisted into a grin with her hips snapping to meet yours was the last thing you saw before the stars and sparkles appeared behind your lids. The orgasm, fulfilling and ardent, was enhanced by the cruelty of her words and the promise of what was yet to come. 

“Stay where you are, pretty bunny. Daddy’s on her way.”

[alyrasturnz]

"fluff this" and "angst that"

fwb!matt x reader based on the song "false god" by t swift!!!!!!

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎FALSE GOD

❐ summary » y/n and matt maintain a facade of friendship while discreetly fucking in private. they satisfy their desires without the chain of commitment, though beneath the surface, they secretly yearn to be able to call each other their own. who could have foreseen that a seemingly innocent post on your instagram could burgeon into something far more profound?

❐ pairings » bsf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » literally smut , swearing , mentions of blood if you whip out a magnifying glass , pet names [ princess , every single variant of sweet ] , car sex

❐ a/n && w/c » the first smut fic i have ever written.. am i doing this right ? 😭 this took me 24 hours im not joking • 3.79k

matthew.sturniolo replied to your story: Look real pretty, sweet thing

matthew.sturniolo replied to your story: You busy?

he recognizes your presence from the scandalous story you've just shared on Instagram, but he remains indifferent. 

his nonchalance is but a facade, for he finds you utterly irresistible in that tiny dress—a garment he's taken off you so many times that the number eludes him, each instance a cherished fragment of his recollections.

he could’ve merely enclosed his hand around his own length, allowing his imagination to paint an obscene tapestry of her cunt enveloping his completely, but he understood that if he could just endure the wait a bit longer, he would soon be enveloped in the euphoric sensation of her skin against his own.

yet, he can vividly recall how it clings to your curves, the mesmerizing sway of your hips—a dance that intoxicates his senses, and the way it causes his arteries to swell with an almost unbearable intensity.

he felt the torrent of his blood vessels surge toward his cock, suffusing them with a fervent flush as the pre-cum seeped, a slow and insidious seepage that betrayed the hidden depths of any sort of purity he had left.

he could just see the swarm of lecherous admirers vying for your attention, plying you with drinks and undressing you with their eyes.

  yet, he is confident in the knowledge that none of them could ever satisfy you in the way he can.

thus, he presses the heel of his palm against the throbbing bulge in his pants, attempting to quell the surge of desire. his fingers tap restlessly at his phone screen, your salacious story flashing before his eyes once more, eliciting a low, ragged groan from deep within him.

matthew.sturniolo sent you a message : Need a ride? Gotta talk to you about something important, princess.

the immediacy with which you open that notification is almost reflexive. a testament to the alacrity with which you have always responded to him.

yet, it was uncharacteristic for him to adopt any semblance of earnestness with you. the tacit understanding between you both was unequivocal: he relished the company of a pretty girl to his heart’s content, unburdened by the exigencies of pressure or commitment, which was indubitably for the best, given matt sturniolo’s enigmatic nature.

“has something happened?” you inquired as matt allowed a breathier, almost sardonic chuckle to escape his lips while scanning over the message. he let it linger for a few more seconds, savoring the moment, fully cognizant of your tendencies and the intricate dance of anticipation that played between you both.

thus, he was already en route with an unquenchable pulsate in his cock as you sent your location a few moments later.

matthew.sturniolo sent you a message : See you soon, sweet girl

the impatience seeps through him like a relentless tide. 

matt becomes acutely aware of it, the realization dawning as he clutches the rhythmic tattoo of his slender fingers drumming against the wheel, each tap a testament to the silent storm brewing within. 

yet his impatience pales in comparison to his mounting annoyance, a sentiment vividly betrayed by the imprint of his throbbing cock, oozing against the fabric of his slacks when you finally step out from the dim, grimy doorway he has been fixated on with an intense glare for what feels like an eternity.

but you’re wide-eyed and so adorable when you notice the familiar vehicle, one you’ve seen the inside of a few too many times for it to be just casual now.

yet, your eyes, wide with innocent wonder, betray an endearing charm as they alight upon the familiar vehicle— one whose interior you have explored with such frequency that it has transcended the realm of casual familiarity

  he suddenly feels too hot under his clothes as he’s clears his throat, his eyes following your figure until you’re opening the passenger door with a smile that’s just as pretty as you always are.

there is no hesitation as you approach him, the radiant smile that unfurls across your features upon recognizing the chestnut-tressed man in the driver’s seat ignites a warm, effervescent sensation within his chest. 

a sudden, oppressive warmth engulfs his throat as he clears, his eyes unwaveringly following your graceful figure until you open the passenger door, your smile unfurling with a beauty that is as enchanting as ever.

your grasp of the world and his standing was but a fleeting shadow in the vast expanse of reality. you knew that he was a youtuber, yet your knowledge was limited to the whispered confessions he shared during those tender nights, your body resting against the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat.

however, any trepidations that dared to creep into your thoughts were swiftly vanquished when matt, with a voice imbued by unwavering resolve, assured you that there was no cause for worry.

he would be your unwavering sentinel, shielding you from all harm.

as you finally settle into the car, he perceives the flicker of apprehension in your eyes, recognizing that you likely suspect he has called you here for a matter of grave importance.

"is everything alright? your message left me unnerved, matt,” you murmur, your voice a soft whisper that disrupts his obscure reverie, yet paradoxically seems to stoke the embers of his desire.

  he chooses to let the silence stretch, the tension palpable in the air as both of you take a breath, savoring the moment. the pause lingers, a deliberate tease, before he finally shifts the car into drive, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"oh? worried about me, sweet thing?" he replies, his voice a low, velvety murmur. his large palm comes to rest against your thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. yet, despite his comforting touch, your eyes still brim with curiosity, silently questioning the abrupt end to your night. not that it mattered much; after all, your ride home was graced by the presence of someone as irresistibly handsome as matt.

or who could’ve been your ride home if he actually had any intention of taking you there. but just as quickly as the car starts, it stops again in a darkened alley, one you've both scoped out before. your 'driver' reclines his seat back, a silent invitation as he pats his lap expectantly, the shadows playing across his face in the dim light.

“matt-“ you huff, playfully rolling your eyes. yet, as you attempt to slide over the center console, you feign ignorance to the way the corners of matt’s lips widen into a knowing smile. "is this why you picked me up... seriously?" your voice carries a whiny edge, spoken through a pout that holds no real irritation. not when you feel the chestnut-haired man’s hands, warm and familiar, taking their usual place on your hips, guiding you effortlessly onto his own.

"hmm.. come on now, don’t try and pretend you weren’t teasing me. did ya’ miss my cock, ‘s that it?" matt drawls, his voice a low, mellifluous murmur that seems to permeate your very essence. 

as he leans forward, his lips graze along your jawline, sending electrifying shivers down your spine. a deep, guttural grunt escapes him at the first lascivious press of your pussy against his clothed cock, even through the fabric. 

his fingers twitch into your skin, a silent and fervent entreaty for more, each touch igniting an insatiable yearning.

"looked fuckin’ greedy for it in those pictures, princess." he’s such a tease, and he can feel the palpable effect his words have on you when your next exhale trembles against his neck. 

gooseflesh erupts along his ivory skin at the tantalizing proximity of your bodies, but it’s not enough for him; he yearns for you closer, a voracious need that demands fulfillment.

matt feels your fingers trace against the nape of his neck, eliciting an involuntary shudder from him. 

he deliberately exhales a prolonged breath against the shell of your ear, the warmth cascading over your skin. 

his lips then begin a tantalizing journey, pressing kisses along your cheeks and trailing them to the very corner of your lips, only to stop short, just to revel in the endearing whine you emit in response to his calculated tease.

"you can simply confess that you missed me..." you manage to tease back, though your breath catches in your throat when matt finally allows his lips to brush yours. slender fingers traverse the expanse of your skin until they grip your jaw, rendering you immobile as if ensuring you cannot close the distance until he decrees it.

his movements are excruciatingly deliberate, tantalizing, yet just close enough for you to discern the next low rumble of his words. "is that so?"

he doesn’t give you a moment to process his words, let alone respond, before his lips are on yours, and he’s kissing you like he’s been starved for this all night. 

his movements are urgent, a stark contrast to the playful nonchalance he usually wears like armor. when his tongue slips past your lips, dancing with your own, you feel the tension melt from his shoulders, a subtle shiver running through his hips.

the way your whimpers dance through the air leaves him feeling dazed, a lingering echo of the drink you had before he arrived still present. 

you hadn’t consumed enough to feel a buzz, but just enough for him to taste the cloying sweetness of the liquid on his tongue as he sucks on yours, groaning at how it momentarily satiates his sweet tooth, yet leaves his deeper craving for you unfulfilled.

the initial, delicate brush of your fingers against the waistband of his slacks elicits a deep, heavy exhale from him, as if he is releasing a breath he had unknowingly been holding, the sensation weaving a spell of ardor over him.

matt’s own fingers reluctantly abandon your skin to assist in tugging them down, a sigh escaping his lips at the first hint of sexual liberation. with a single, decisive tug, he pulls the constrictive fabric away, until his leaking cock rests against his abdomen.

he clicks his tongue in mild frustration when you pull away from him, lifting your dress up around your hips, the motion a tantalizing tease that leaves him yearning for your touch once more.

his abdomen tightens with a jolt of ecstasy, sending his mind spiraling into a fuzzy haze, where coherent thought dissolves into the intoxicating sensation of pure, unadulterated bliss when your hand wraps around the foundation of his cock, giving it sequence of deliberate, languorous pumps as matt groans, subdued and ragged before he’s sending you a grin which causes an involuntary constriction within your very core, as if your innermost being is ensnared by an invisible force. “knew you were fuckin’ hungry for it, sweet girl,”

one of your arms hooks around his shoulders, and it feels almost instinctual the way his arm snakes around your hips, drawing you nearer. his larger hand gently supplants yours as he positions his pulsating tip between your legs, and then his lips find yours once more, sealing the moment with a kiss that speaks volumes.

fuck, he takes solace in the knowledge that he alone is privy to this intimate vision of you, a privilege that fills him with a profound sense of contentment. matt believes that with the very first caress of his cock through your folds, it would render his mind a void, shrouded in a misty haze as he watches his cum effuse from your puffy cunt.

his cock twitches underneath you when he feels it prod at your flexing hole, his eyes fluttering closed in bliss when he finally begins to sink into you. he’d normally take his time prepping you for the stretch, but when your lips part to moan at the first saccharine squeeze around him, he thinks your pussy was made to fucking take him anyway.

his cock convulses underneath you when he feels it prod at your flexing hole, his eyes gradually flutter shut in a state of bliss as he finally succumbs to the embrace of your tight cunt. he would typically dedicate ample time to meticulously readying you for the stretch, yet, in the moment when your lips gently part to moan at the first saccharine squeeze around him, he thinks your pussy was made to fucking take him anyway.

“shit, wish they could see how fuckin’ pretty y’ look on my cock, princess.," he murmurs. by "they," he refers to the silent spectators who have glimpsed your story through matt's eyes. he shouldn't care, shouldn't dwell on it as much as he does, but oh, how it consumes him.

but now, you find yourself here, and now, it is he who conjures your moans and sighs, as his cock deeper into the warmth of your cunt. his eyes drift downward to observe the delicate manner in which your puffy folds unfurl for him and he thinks you’re fucking hypnotizing.

he allows his head to recline against the headrest, a sigh escaping his lips as he senses the moment your hips align perfectly with his, giving you a moment to acclimate to the stretch, all the while striving to maintain his composure and not succumb to its biting embrace.

but you are as eager as you are radiant, and matt feels as though he has ascended to heaven with the first genuine sensation of your body dancing against his, elevating your hips until only the tip of his cock is reposing in your warm flesh before your pussy descends once more into repose.

his eyes, once reminiscent of the ocean's azure depths, have now darkened, their hue transformed into a stormy, intense focus on the way your pretty tits jiggle with every saturated affinity of your hips with his

“it feels so fucking good, matt," you murmur through parted, pouty lips, your thoughts clouded with arousal for his sinful prowess. you lose yourself in the sensation of his proximity, and it's almost instinctual the way his fingers find their way to the nape of your neck, drawing you in for a kiss that is as fervent as it is necessary.

matt kisses you as if you are the first drop of water on his parched tongue after a relentless drought, savoring every essence you offer and more, as his body moves in perfect harmony with yours.

“yeah? nobody treat this pretty pussy like i do, princess? i know what y’ need.” he grunts against your lips, his cheeks tinged with a rosy flush, and with the way he's holding you—desperation etched in the firmness of his grip against your skin—you'd think you might dissolve into the ether if he dared to let you go. “fuck— this pussy was made for me”

the muscles in matt’s sculpted physique quiver beneath you, trembling with a barely contained intensity when he grinds his hips up to meet yours, deliberately pulverizing his pelvis along your puffy clit until he’s swallowing those pretty sounds that only he likes to pull from you. the blunt head of his cock slides along every one of your sweet spots perfectly and it feels like he’s igniting every nerve ending in your body.

the rhythm he establishes is nothing short of remarkable, considering his imposing stature and the confined quarters of the car, but the way he fucks you is more than just that. it’s unrelenting but fervent, and the warmth that only he can ignite along your thighs makes you feel as though you’ve swallowed the very essence of the sun itself when he holds you closer, momentarily pulling away to gaze upon you once more.

“yes- ah! i, i need you.. matt, fuck.” you exhale a dreamy sigh, your cheeks flushing with a rosy hue as a whirlwind of emotions stirs within you. 

the flustered sensation courses through your veins, making your heart race and your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind as your pussy squelches, drenched and disheveled as the sounds reverberate through the confines of the car, creating an intricate symphony that dances along the wall, yet, matt has transcended the point of concern regarding who might overhear. you resonate so pretty for him when he’s forcing his cock deeper into your slick cunt, his pelvis grinding against your clit while your nails delve profoundly into his back, discovering uncharted territories, and leaving crimson trails in their wake.

“oh yeah? ‘m i your one and only? this pussy all mine?” he emits a guttural groan, fully aware that such a request is beyond propriety, yet the mere contemplation of it propels him towards an inevitable climax. you, in turn, let out a soft, knowing giggle, for you both understand the undeniable truth in his words.

your rhythm falters, your body instinctively gravitating towards his, enveloping him in a way he has never experienced, leaving him utterly consumed by your presence.

he finds himself utterly powerless when you cast that enchanting, starry-eyed glance his way, causing his breath to catch and his composure to unravel.

yet, he is acutely aware of how close you are when that starry-eyed glance is accompanied by the languid roll of your hips and another needy constrict of your cunt around his cock, and, fuck, if you demanded his very soul at that moment, he wouldn’t hesitate to let you entwine it with your own.

for matt harbors a fervent desire to possess you entirely, wishing to render you unattainable for anyone else. he is avaricious, fully aware of his own nature, yet remains utterly indifferent to it. he yearns to claim every fragment of your being, cursing coarsely as he fucks into you eagerly. his hands nearly clenched into fists at your hips, as your moan, so sweet and melodic, resonated for him. “yesyesyes, matt- g-god.“

another groan emanates from his lungs in response to the insistent coaxing of your walls, the reverberation of his tone resonating deep within his chest, and you feel your body nearly succumb with each powerful thrust upward into you.

every thrust into you is propelled by the formidable strength of his physique and the unadulterated fervor of his desire for you, feeling matt ruthlessly slam his cock into your stretched cunt, as he draws you closer.

nuzzling into the crook of your neck, he murmurs half-drunken praises, each word dripping with fervor and cascading down your spine like liquid fire.

he lets out a deeper, more resonant grunt escape his lips this time, reverberating with a newfound intensity.

with another mindless throb of his cock, pulsating with a pure lewd, he lets his slender fingers weave a delicate path between your bodies, finally anchoring themselves with purpose between your thighs.

as he rolls your puffy clit in sticky circles, and if he wasn’t fucking you mindless you’d maybe be able to recognise the familiar signature against the puffy bud.

but he synchronizes the movements with the rhythmic oscillation of his hips, driving upwards into yours with a deliberate cadence, and instead your breath is skipping and he feels your pussy throb around him as he grits his teeth.

“shit, gonna cum f’ me, sweet thing? no holding back on me now.” he hums, his words flowing with a polished ease despite the underlying current of need they carry, until your hips falter and you let your head fall forward, finding solace in the crook of his neck.

“i’m gonna— matt! fuck!” you emit a high-pitched squeal, while matt releases a deep, resonant groan. his hips press into yours, snug and tight, as the first milking compression of your walls ensnares him. he bites his lip, a futile attempt to restrain himself, panting against the dip of your shoulder as he coaxes and fucks you through the mind numbing orgasm only he can give to you. 

“that’s it, so good f’ me.. only me, yeah?” he rasps, and the praise cascades down your spine, causing your eyes to roll back. each stuttered bounce of your hips against his interrupts your needy, breathless chants of his name as a ring of gooey liquid forms around the base of his cock every time his hips draw back beneath you. 

“take me so well, don’cha? fuck, princess. pussy’s fuckin’ made for me.” your breathing becomes ragged, and Matt feels your body meld seamlessly into his. his jaw tightens as he hisses through clenched teeth, finally releasing his warmth deep within you.

his cock pulsates and congeals as he compresses at your hips, his brows crumbling while he curls over you, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead, his hair sticking slightly as he loses himself in the fluttering pull of your body and your cunt.

he finally stills with the slight sting of overstimulation but you still feel warm where you’re chest is pressed tight against his, his fingers grazing along the length of your spine in the intimate silence that stretches after. but then you whimper and pull back to give him a look that makes his usual smirk curl his lips.

  “is this seriously why you picked me up, matt?” you hum, your voice lilting into a playful cadence, and he responds with a laugh—a more breathless resonance, as you emulate his tone impeccably. subsequently, he bestows upon you one of his most dashing smiles and places a moist, ticklish kiss upon your cheek, prompting a cascade of giggles from you.

“huh? nuh uh, angel. think we both agreed you were asking for it.” matt drawls back, his words still slightly slurred in the lingering aftermath of pleasure, yet the playful tone that always accompanies his speech remains discernible.

“yeah right.. did you really like the pictures that much?” you pose your question yet again, watching as he sends you an amused wink. he then deftly squeezes your cheeks together between his fingers, pressing a kiss against your lips as they jut out in response.

“hope you took some that’s just for me, yeah?” he teases, wiggling his brows but then you’re laughing and squirming back over to the passenger seat, and as much as he already misses the warm press of your skin against his, he still feels heat bloom in his chest when he catches you smiling anyway. 

“i feel gross now, i gotta go home and shower.” you mumble as you pull down your dress and matt follows as he tucks his cock back into his slacks. but he can’t help the way his large palm naturally reaches over to rest against your thigh, squeezing at the skin before he’s leaning across the center console to ghost his lips along your own. 

“oh? you thought you were getting off easy? nights still young, sweet thing.”

[buldakcorn]

Crave

LOONA/LOOSSEMBLE Gowon x Male Reader

Genre: Licking, Mirror sex, Doggy, Squirting, Riding, Popular girl

3701 words

Gowon strutted down the hallway, her hips swaying rhythmically with the beat of the music that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. She was the epitome of high school perfection, with her long, ginger hair cascading down her back and her piercing brown eyes that could make any boy's heart skip a beat. Her reputation as the school's resident goddess was well-deserved; she had a knack for turning heads and leaving a trail of whispers in her wake. But beneath her flawless exterior, she harbored a secret craving that no one could have guessed: she yearned for a man who could truly satisfy her insatiable hunger for pleasure, a man with the one thing she hadn't yet found in the boys that worshipped her—a big, hard cock that knew just how to give her what she needed. Little did she know, that very man was right under her nose, waiting patiently for the moment when she would finally realize the true depth of his desire for her.

As the school day drew to a close, you found yourself in the same quiet corner of the library where you often retreated to escape the prying eyes of your classmates. Gowon, having noticed your consistent retreat, decided to approach you, driven by curiosity and an unspoken attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface. She sauntered over, her books pressed against her ample chest, and a seductive smile playing on her lips.

"Hi," she purred, her voice a sweet melody that resonated deep within you.

"I've seen you around school, but we've never really talked. I'm Gowon." You felt your heart race as she leaned closer, her intoxicating scent enveloping you.

"What's your name?" she asked, her eyes searching yours.

You managed to reply, "I'm..." but before you could even get your words out, she interrupted,

"You know, I've heard some...interesting things about you." Her gaze dropped to your crotch for a brief second before she met your eyes again, a knowing glint in her gaze.

"Things that make me think you might be exactly what I've been looking for."

Your eyes widened slightly at her boldness, the blood rushing to your face as you realized the implications of her words. You had always been aware of the rumors that had been circulating about you, mainly spread by your previous lovers, but never had you imagined Gowon, the queen bee of the school, would be the one to bring it up so directly.

"I...I'm not sure what you've heard," you stuttered, trying to play it cool despite the growing bulge in your pants. She leaned in even closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered,

"Oh, I think you do." Her hand reached out and gently traced the outline of your burgeoning erection, a smirk playing on her lips as she watched your reaction.

"Why don't we go somewhere private?" she suggested, her voice a sultry purr that sent shivers down your spine.

Without a moment's hesitation, you nodded, unable to resist the temptation she offered. Together, you slipped away from the library, her hand in yours, heading towards the empty janitor's closet where you knew no one would find you. The anticipation was palpable as she pushed you inside and locked the door behind her, the dim light casting shadows across her perfect features. She dropped her books and turned to face you, her hands sliding up to unbutton your pants with a sense of urgency.

"Show me what you've got," she demanded, her eyes dark with desire. "I need to know if you're the one who can give me what I crave." Your heart hammered in your chest as you revealed your cock to her, watching as her eyes widened with excitement.

With trembling hands, you stepped closer to Gowon, feeling the heat emanating from her body as she looked at you with pure, unadulterated lust. You could see the desire in her eyes as she took in the full length and girth of your erection, her breath hitching slightly. "Is this what you wanted?" you asked, a hint of confidence creeping into your voice. She nodded, her eyes never leaving yours as she reached out to touch you, her delicate fingers wrapping around your shaft.

She stroked you gently, a soft moan escaping her lips as she felt you throb in her hand. "More," she whispered, her voice a siren's call that you couldn't resist. You stepped closer, pressing her against the cold, metal shelves of the janitor's closet, your hands exploring the curves of her body as she continued to tease you with her touch.

Your mouth found hers, the kiss a fiery explosion of passion and need that had been building for what felt like an eternity. Her tongue danced with yours, her teeth nipping at your bottom lip as she grew bolder. You could feel her breathing quicken as your hands found their way inside her shorts, her legs parting slightly to allow you better access. You slid a finger inside her, feeling her wetness, her warmth, and the tightness that was driving you wild with desire. "Fuck me," she murmured against your mouth, her voice a desperate plea that sent you over the edge.

Without a word, you bent Gowon over the small table in the center of the closet, her shorts sliding down to expose the perfect roundness of her ass. She gasped as you grabbed her hips, pulling her closer, and you could feel the anticipation radiating from her as you brought your face level with her drenched pussy. You inhaled deeply, the scent of her desire filling your nostrils, and then you dove in, your tongue parting her folds to find the sweet spot that would make her scream your name.

Gowon's legs trembled as you began to lick her, her moans echoing off the metal walls. This was a side of her no one had ever seen before, vulnerable and desperate for release. She had never felt a man's tongue on her in such a way, the sensation of your hot breath against her skin and the gentle flicks of your tongue sending waves of pleasure through her body. You took your time, savoring her taste, exploring every inch of her with a passion that surprised even you. Her hands gripped the edge of the table tightly, her knuckles white as she tried to hold on, her body trembling with each stroke.

You could feel her building, her muscles tightening around your finger as you pushed it deeper inside her, and you knew that you were about to give her something she had never experienced with any of the boys who had come before you. This was the moment when she would truly understand what it meant to be with a man who knew what he was doing, and you were more than ready to show her.

"You're eating me so well. Oh my god, I'm gonna cum. Please don't stop!"

Obeying her desperate plea, you didn't stop. Instead, you increased the pressure and speed of your tongue, feeling her body tense with the approaching orgasm. Gowon's moans grew louder, her hips bucking against your mouth as she tried to get closer, to feel more of you. You could sense she was on the brink, so you added another finger, stretching her wet pussy as you continued to lick and suck. Her nails scraped against the table's surface, leaving little half-moons as she lost herself to the pleasure you were giving her.

"Oh god, I'm coming!" she screamed, her body convulsing as the orgasm crashed over her, her pussy pulsing around your fingers. You didn't let up, continuing to lick and flick until her tremors subsided, her breath coming in ragged gasps. When she finally collapsed against the table, you stood up, your cock throbbing with the need to be inside her.

"My turn," you murmured, as you stand up proud with your member in hand.

You positioned your hardened length between Gowon's perfectly shaped ass cheeks, the heat and wetness of her pussy teasing you as it glistened with arousal. The length and thickness of your cock was indeed something she hadn't encountered before, and she couldn't help but gasp as it lay there, a stark contrast to the slender fingers that had just brought her to the edge of ecstasy. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement.

"It's so... big," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

"You might ruin me," she added with a hint of awe. You chuckled darkly, your hands firmly gripping her hips as you aligned the head of your cock with her slick entrance.

"That's the plan," you replied back, your eyes filled with a hunger that matched hers.

With one swift motion, you pushed into her, feeling the tightness of her pussy stretch around you, the sensation unlike anything you had ever experienced before. She gasped as you filled her completely, her body adjusting to the new, delicious intrusion. Her walls clamped down around you, her pussy begging for more, and you were more than happy to oblige. You began to move, your hips pumping slowly at first, giving her time to get used to your size. But as her moans grew louder and her body started to rock back to meet your thrusts, you picked up the pace, claiming her with a primal need that washed away any doubt or hesitation. She was yours, and you were going to show her what it really meant to be fucked by a man who knew how to satisfy a woman like her.

Gowon's hand flew to her mouth as she tried to muffle her gasps, her eyes squeezing shut as the intense pleasure-pain mix of your cock stretching her walls overwhelmed her. Her body was on fire, and she felt her stomach churn with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Despite her effort to remain composed, a soft whine escaped her lips as she felt some of her juices trickle down her thighs, leaving a sticky trail in their wake. She had never felt so full, so completely claimed by anyone.

The sensation was almost too much to handle, and she feared she might not be able to keep her lunch down in her stomach with the way you are rearranging her guts. But the need to feel you deeper, to be filled to the brim, was too strong to ignore. She pushed back against you, her body begging for more as you continued to plunge into her with an unrelenting rhythm. Each thrust sent shockwaves of sensation through her core, and she knew that she was in for an experience that would forever change her.

With your cock still buried deep inside her, you reached up to cup Gowon's firm, perky breasts, feeling the fabric of her thin jacket and bra under your hands. She moaned in pleasure as you began to knead them gently, her nipples hardening against your palms. Her body was a symphony of sensations, and you were the maestro orchestrating her every response.

You leaned in closer, your breath hot against the back of her neck, and whispered, "Do you like this?" She nodded fervently, her breath hitching with each of your movements. Encouraged by her response, you continued to squeeze and massage her breasts, feeling her body arch back towards you, desperate for more of your touch. The sound of the zipper being pulled down was almost drowned out by the slap of your skin against hers as you picked up the pace, your thrusts becoming more demanding.

Her tits bounced in your hands as you played with her sensitive nipples, rolling them between your thumbs and forefingers, pinching lightly, making her gasp and whimper. The feeling of power was intoxicating, knowing that you had this beautiful, popular girl at your mercy, begging for your touch, your cock, and your dominance. You could feel her pussy clench around you, her walls tightening, as she grew closer to another orgasm. Your own need was reaching a fever pitch, the friction of her tight, wet heat threatening to push you over the edge, but you held back, determined to make this moment last as long as possible.

With a smirk, you grabbed Gowon's wrist and guided her to the standing mirrored surface of the janitor's closet. Gowon was strugling to walk slowly to the mirror with your cock still pounding her with every step. Her eyes widened as she caught her reflection, the sight of you filling her up from behind sending a fresh wave of arousal through her body. You positioned her just right, so she could see every inch of your cock disappearing into her tight, pink pussy, her plump ass cheeks jiggling with each powerful thrust.

"Look at us," you murmured, your voice thick with lust.

"Look at how beautiful you are, taking all of me."

Gowon's eyes locked onto the reflection, her pupils dilating as she watched the erotic scene unfold before her. Her breath hitched, her tits bouncing in your hands as she tried to keep up with your relentless pace. The visual was too much, the reality of the situation hitting her like a ton of bricks. She had never felt so exposed, so used, and so utterly desperate for more. The sight of your cock sliding in and out of her, her body stretched to accommodate your girth, was a powerful aphrodisiac. She moaned louder, pushing back into you, her walls clenching around your shaft as she neared another shattering climax.

"I want to see your face when you cum," you growled, your grip on her hips tightening as you thrust harder and deeper. Gowon's eyes snapped shut, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt the orgasm build once again. You leaned in closer, your chest pressing against her back, your breath hot on her neck.

"Look at me," you ordered, your voice a low, demanding rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

She opened her eyes and met your gaze in the mirror, the intensity of the moment reflected in the glass.

"Cum for me," you whispered, your voice a dark promise of pleasure. And with a keening cry, she did just that, her body convulsing around your cock as she shuddered through another earth-shattering climax, the sight of your reflection driving her over the edge.

The moment your cock slipped out of her tight pussy, Gowon's body betrayed her, releasing a powerful squirt that soaked the floor below. The mirror was not spared, as the force of her climax painted a wet streak up the glass, a testament to the intensity of the pleasure you had just given her. She trembled, her legs threatening to buckle as you stepped back, giving her a moment to compose herself. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glazed over with desire and satisfaction, and the sight of her juices glistening on the mirror was almost too much for you to handle. You couldn't help but smirk, feeling a sense of pride at the effect you had on her, the most popular girl in school reduced to a quivering mess by your touch. But your own need was still raging, and you knew that this was far from over.

With a smug grin, you grabbed the chair from the corner of the janitor's closet, the legs scraping against the floor as you positioned it directly in front of the mirror.

"Ready for round two?" you asked, your voice thick with desire as you sat down, your cock still standing tall and gleaming with her juices. Gowon's breath hitched as she watched you in the mirror, her chest heaving from the aftermath of her orgasms. She nodded, her eyes never leaving yours as she stepped closer, her legs still shaking from the intensity of her release. She straddled you, her soaking pussy just centimeters from your mouthwatering erection, and you felt a thrill of anticipation shoot through you as you reached up to cup her breasts again, feeling their softness in your palms.

"I want you to ride me," you said, your voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. She nodded eagerly, positioning herself over you, her hand reaching down to guide your cock to her dripping entrance.

"No baby, face the mirror for me. I need you to look at your gorgeous face when I'm dicking you deep."

Without a word, Gowon turned to face the mirror, her eyes locking with yours in the reflection as she slowly lowered herself onto your waiting cock. The sight of your length disappearing into her was breathtaking, and the feeling of her wet warmth enveloping you in this position was like nothing you had ever experienced. She began to move, her hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Fuck, it feels deeper like this!"

Gowon's eyes went wide with pleasure as she took you in, inch by inch, her pussy stretching to accommodate your thickness. The sensation of being so fully claimed was heady, and she moaned your name as she began to bounce up and down on your cock, the mirror reflecting the passionate scene. You watched her, your hands on her hips, guiding her movements, as the sight of your cock disappearing into her tightness sent you spiraling closer to the brink of your own release. Her breasts jiggled with every bounce, her nipples begging for your touch. You leaned in to the side and capture one in your mouth, sucking and biting gently, eliciting a high-pitch moan.

"Oh gosh, don't stop. Treat me like I'm nothing but a doll. Fuck my naughty pussy until I can't walk tomorrow!"

Her words were like a match to gasoline, igniting the flame of your lust even higher. You gripped her hips more firmly, guiding her to ride you harder and faster, your teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her breast as you suckled greedily on her nipple. Gowon threw her head back, her hair cascading down her back as she moaned in ecstasy, her eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

Her pussy was soaking wet, a testament to her need for you, and the sound of your flesh slapping against hers echoed through the tiny space, mixing with her moans and whimpers of pleasure. You could feel the tension building in your balls, the need to fill her up with your hot seed becoming too much to bear. But you didn't want this to end, not yet. You reached between her legs, finding her swollen clit, and began to rub it in time with her bouncing rhythm. Her eyes went wide in the mirror, her pupils dilating with pleasure as she felt the pressure building once again.

"Cum for me, Gowon," you rasped, your voice strained with desire. "I want to feel you come all over my cock." She nodded, her breath coming in short, desperate pants, and you knew she was close. With a few more firm strokes of your thumb, you felt her body tense and then release, her pussy spasming around your shaft as she came, her moans turning to screams of pleasure. The sight was too much, and with a roar, you buried your cock deep inside her, filling her to the brim with your cum, the intensity of your orgasm making your vision swim as you watched her ride out her own climax in the mirror.

You two were a sweaty mess, the air thick with the scent of sex and desire. Gowon's golden hair was a wild tangle of curls that framed her flushed face, and your own hair was plastered to your forehead, a testament to the passionate frenzy that had just unfolded in the cramped janitor's closet. Her eyes searched yours, a silent conversation filled with unspoken words of pleasure and satisfaction.

Without breaking eye contact, she leaned in and captured your mouth with hers, her lips hungrily devouring your own in a deep, lingering kiss that seemed to meld your souls together. The taste of her was still on your tongue, a sweetness that only served to stoke the embers of your lust. As your kiss grew more tender, a soft smile began to form on her lips, mirrored by your own, the corners of your mouth quirking upward in pure bliss. The intensity of the moment was undeniable, and as your tongues danced together, you felt a connection that went far beyond the physical.

"Let's keep in touch,"

Breathlessly, Gowon pulled away from the kiss, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint.

"Oh, I think we'll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on," she whispered, a seductive purr lacing her voice as she slid off your cock, leaving it still hard and gleaming with the evidence of your shared pleasure. She leaned in to whisper in your ear, "You're going to be my little secret, aren't you?" With a sly smile, she began to straighten her clothes, her movements deliberate and tantalizing as she adjusted her shorts and jacket.

You watched, your own hands still trembling slightly as you tucked yourself back into your pants, trying to compose yourself as the reality of what had just happened sank in.

"We can't let the whole school know that their perfect little angel is actually a filthy slut for a big dick, can we?" she teased, her eyes gleaming with excitement. You couldn't help but grin in response, knowing that you had just claimed something that no other boy in the school had ever had.

As she reached for the door handle, Gowon turned back to you, her hand lingering on the metal for just a moment. "But remember," she said, her tone still playful but with an underlying seriousness, "this stays between us." With that, she slipped out of the closet, leaving you alone with the echo of her laughter and the memory of her tight, wet pussy clenching around you. The door clicked shut, and you were left with the lingering scent of sex and the promise of many more secret rendezvous to come.

---

Happy Gowon Day!

[gojoath]

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ EASE THE ACHE, OKKOTSU YŪTA

your glad your boyfriend yūta was always prepared, offering you a sleeping pill when you were having trouble was helpful— but why do you feel so needy suddenly?

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. he drugs you with an aphrodisiac and tells you it’s a sleeping pill -> dubcon. creampie. he’s obsessed. wc, 3k.

note. repost :)

you’re not sure how long you’ve been lying here— gazing at the empty space of your ceiling as you toss and turn in your comforter. you’re pretty sure if you check your phone one more time you’ll have seen most hours of the clock, and the frustration only seems to make your body feel even more awake. you’d even taken a sleeping pill, so humbly offered by your boyfriend to try and aid your own exhaustion, but if anything it’s only made the room spin as you try to focus on the steady rhythm of your heart.

your body feels weird, like there’s a buzz underneath your skin that extends to the base of your spine— every brush of your figure against the sheets tickles and every squeeze of your hands on your thighs feels even better. you feel needy, uncomfortably so considering how late it is, but you can’t help the way it makes you yearn. why now of all moments? 

you let yourself exhale a slow sigh as you try to ignore the ache between your thighs, kicking at your sheets until they pull down your hips because not only can you not sleep— your body cant even find a comfortable temperature and it makes you want to get out of bed entirely and just give up.

“baby?” the low hum jolts you slightly with the way it cuts through the darkened atmosphere of your room, accompanied by the slow crawl of cold fingertips across your hips as your boyfriend, yuuta, presses into you from behind. “what’s wrong?”

his touch feels like it cools the warmth of your skin comfortably and you find your eyes fluttering at the way his hands seem to instinctively begin drawing soothing shapes into your sides, like he’s aware of your answer before you even say it.

like he’s been awake watching you this whole time.

“i just cant sleep, i think i’m going crazy.” but your answer still earns you a smeared kiss along your shoulder as yuuta leans in closer, followed by another as he pushes his hands up the hem of your shirt to palm at your overheating skin. “i don’t know what’s wrong, it hurts,”

he holds you there, your back pressing into his chest until you’re surrounded by him— by his scent and his being. you can feel the ticklish press of his dark hair trailing along your skin as he coats you in kisses, tiny little ones that morph into ones that linger as he pushes them up the slope of your neck. why does everything feel so much better than usual right now? 

“do you need me to help?” another suckled kiss and it’s accompanied by your boyfriend’s cold touch teasing slightly just beneath your chest. his teeth nip gently at the base of your neck from behind and he gives you a slow look from over your shoulder— you’re unaware of his gaze from this angle, but he can still see enough of your pretty features to leave him satisfied for now.

you don’t know why you feel more sensitive than usual, maybe it’s the sleeping pill in your system— no, it wouldn’t be that, your boyfriend wouldn’t give you something that could be deemed unsafe. you must just be tired.

you let the question linger in the space where you both breathe for a bit but you swear your boyfriend must feel the way it seems to urge your heart rate to take a quicker rhythm, taking that as his answer. your next exhale is choked off and dreamy when yuuta takes a languid palmful of your tits to squeeze, the pad of his thumb flicking slightly over your nipples until they perk up under the touch. the soft, featherlight movement is enough to make you shiver— pushing yourself closer into his chest like you’re caught in his web.

yuuta’s glad you opt not to wear a bra under your pyjamas. it’s like this is exactly what you want from him. you’re pliant, drowsy state only seems to be heightened by the pill he slipped you earlier, it would help with your sleep eventually but the mild aphrodisiac effect would be quite troublesome for you until then, but that’s what he’s for.

he had his own ways of making sure you slept well afterall, you don’t need anything else but him to help you. he can prove that.

your eyelashes flutter prettily against your cheeks as you suck on your lower lip and as much as you want to give into yuuta’s greedy touches, you know he should really get some rest too considering how little he seems to sleep. you’d put it down to him being a light sleeper, he always seemed to be awake before you— lying on his side, staringat you as soon as you first open your eyes.

like he wants to make sure he’s the first thing you see.

“it’s fine, yuu— you can sleep, it’s—“ another sinful swipe of the pad of his fingers across your nipples makes you croon, hes close enough for you to hear the way your reaction pulls a drawn out growl from him as he curls even closer— like hes trying to crawl into your skin.

“i’m not tired,” another smeared kiss followed by a nip of his teeth and you give into him so easily given the haze of your mind and the heat that twists in your gut. “i promise.” yuuta’s words are emphasised by a steady, but needy rock of his hips into you from behind as you feel the press of his clothed cock against your lower back.

your hips shift and it only seems to make everything feel even better when you feel him reach down to hook his palm beneath your thigh, pulling it back until he’s able to push himself closer to the heat that teases him between them.

“you’re so soft,” another stuttered press of yuuta’s hips into yours and you can feel the way his cock throbs against your clothed cunt, like it’s begging to be even closer, shed of it’s restraints— like a wild animal without its collar so it can return to its instincts, “and warm.” his other hand continues its ministrations on your sensitive tits as he presses more kisses and marks up your neck, then down your shoulder as he ruts into you from behind.

“sometimes i just want to stay awake to look at you.” his praise makes you feel lightheaded as heat licks at the base of your spine, you can’t help but push back into his movements— arching into the press of his palms as he toys with your body. the confession might be weird to some but you know that’s just the type of person your boyfriend was, so full of devotion and love that he’d stay awake for eternity if it was by your side.

your lips part to moan and the sound makes yuuta’s hand on your tits squeeze as he buries another strangled moan into the crook of your neck. you feel the cool crawl of his fingertips as they leave your thigh, twitching closer to the space between them instead as you hump desperately into the touch and he rewards the act of pure love with another suckled kiss.

“can i taste you?” it’s a delicious question, one that you’re still slightly whoozy, sleep deprived mind almost bends to instantly when it’s breathed out like it’s a low, desperate plea. but you know if he starts, he won’t stop as soon as he’s buried into your cunt and as much as you’d love to have your hands in his hair and his head between your thighs— you do actually want to get some rest tonight.

so as much as it pains you, you manage to shake your head despite the pleasure that clouds it.

“yuuta, i want you right now.. please, don’t wanna wait,” your voice comes out needier than you expect it too when it’s followed by a particularly, slow press of yuuta’s fingertips between your clothed folds. the soft touch presses hard onto your clit as your body rolls against his, and you’re pretty sure he can already feel the damp, creeping heat that your slick is leaving on your panties as he pants against you.

“all of me?” he asks, desperately— mindlessly as his hips continue their needy pace,

“mhm,” your answer pulls a sinful sort of sound from your boyfriend behind you as his hands grab at the layers between you both— almost ripping at your panties completely before he’s kicking his sweats to his ankles and resting his forehead against your shoulder to breathe deep. you already feel dizzy, maybe it’s how heavy your body feels— weighed down by exhaustion but also lust, need now that you’re so close to being wrapped in the man behind you.

you’re so close to easing that ache that you can feel as deep as your bones.

yuuta’s cold touch keeps you present as his hands return to squeeze at your thigh, urging you to lift it so obediently so he can slide his cock between them. you move so easily when you’re like this, bending to his will— to his love and it makes something in his chest squeeze with the way you rely on him like this. just like he needs you to.

you feel the trembled exhale across your nerves with the first press of your silky cunt across the shaft of his cock, urging his hips to almost glue themselves to you as you rub your slick along the length of him.

he’d normally spend hours to prep you, to stretch you— even just to use it as an excuse to take as much of you as you’re willing to give him.

but right now you’re sleepy, half coherent and your eyes flutter closed everytime you feel yuuta’s tip catch on your clit, making a wet tacky sound as the pleasure trembles against your spine. a few more languid thrusts through your folds and your lips part into a pretty ‘o’ shape when he finally presses against the entrance to your cunt, teeth biting down on your shoulder when he finally begins to sink into you.

you feel him grunt against your skin, one of his hands moving to rub soothing, messy circles into your clit as your pussy clenches harder around him the deeper he goes. but the dizzy spin in your head has you arching back against him, pushing more of his cock into your flexing walls until you feel him glide past the spot that has your whole body twitching in his hold.

you whimper when he finally bottoms out, high pitched and needy at the feeling of yuuta’s balls pressing against your ass and you pull another groan from the dark haired sorcerer when your pussy flexes again. it’s not enough, it still burns— aches in your gut, you need him to fuck you until you’re trembling, on the edge of consciousness. your body feels like it’s on fire with want, you’re so needy you’re considering it really could be love.

his jaw clenches and your back relaxes against his chest once more, feeling the press of his palm return to its place under your shirt as he takes a slow handful of your breast, making you melt into him as your walls quiver around him.

“i.. i don’t like not being able to see you,” yuuta’s words are a trembled exhale as he grits his teeth before drawing his hips back, feeling the hug of your walls press down on his cock eagerly at the loss as you try to lure him back in. he always liked his front row seat to every pretty expression he could pull from you— knowing nobody else would ever see you fall apart like that. not now that you’re his.

“baby,” he tries again, a plea accompanied by his first real thrust as he presses up against the pleasurable parts inside of you that make you moan. it makes you twist into him as you lean onto your back, looking over your shoulder to meet your boyfriends haunting gaze for the first time since this whole exchange started.

“‘s that better?” your eyelashes flutter as you look over yuuta’s features and you swear you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you as your eyes meet.

your lips are parted, eyes half-lidded and blown and he’s never seen you look so sinful— like you’re a fucking succubus and he looks back at you, all adoring and infatuated like he’d let you drag him straight to hell. “yeah, uh.. i like when you look at me, you’re pretty.”

the pace yuuta’s taken is quick, needy little pumps of his hips that make your tits jolt with every clapping thrust as it echos. your skin is too warm, damp with sweat but every deep kiss of his cock only makes you greedy for more as you whine wordlessly. he sinks into you again and your eyes almost roll back entirely with the way it soothes the sting in your bones and you feel your boyfriend lean in to lewdly lick at the sweat gathered along your jawline.

“please, yuu~ make it feel good,” your words are half-coherent, hormone-drunken babbles that’s are like music to your boyfriends ears when he feels your pussy squeeze down on him. it’s like your body is begging for it too, so wet and warm that every thrust only seems to coat him in even more slick as it squelches with every press, “it hurts so much,”

your eyes are still on his, albeit your gaze blurry with how well yuuta’s fucking you right now— easing your need and you feel his lips trace their way across your cheeks as his fingers under your shirt toy at your nipples again. “it’s okay, i’ve got you. i’ll do anything for you,” his voice is low, urging you to arch at the sweet, soft sound with the next press of his cock, stuttering past your sensitive spots just as his fingers pinch to pull at your tits. “because i love you,”

his lips part to continue, but it’s cut off by a rough groan when your pussy squeezes, making his hips stutter before he’s swallowing heavy and trying again, “s-so much,” your pussy is like silk, squeezing so tight he can barely move— like it’s returning his confession tenfold and that only seems to urge him to begin a pace that’s a little faster, needier as he moves to toy with your clit next. “does it feel good?”

“yes! i love you, yuu~” your mouth seems to act on its own when your mind is so foggy with pleasure, so close to your orgasm you can feel the relief tremble beneath your skin as you meet yuuta’s thrusts with messy, needy humps that only urge him deeper. his fingers are still cold despite the way he’s sweating hard, curling them into your folds as he rubs sticky circles into your clit and you’re almost rigid beneath him, feeling the waves of your orgasm begin to burn along your skin as you pant his name with a stuttered pleasepleaseplease—

you almost pass out with how hard and good it hits you, toes curling from where they rest as you make a messy, creamy ring around your boyfriends cock and he ruts into you like an animal in heat as he greedily takes the orgasm he’s earned from your pliant body.

it seems like it stretches on forever and you feel like a shell of a person as you come down, so fucked out you’re drooling and half-coherent as the lingering pleasure shoots through you but yuuta doesn’t stop. he thinks you’re adorable like this as he presses kisses against your now tear stained cheeks, licking up the drool that trails from your lips as you grab at him— you’re suddenly so drowsy but you’re still burning with lust, your body is begging for more as he continues with the back and forth stutter of his hips.

“yu—uta, ah—“ you can barely breathe with the pleasure that weighs down on you, body jolting with your boyfriends movements but it feels so good, you feel like you’re floating, caught in a dream-like state that makes the room spin.

“mhm, baby. i’m here for you— see, just look at m-me, i’ll never leave.” you offer yuuta a slow, pretty blink when you feel his fingers tilt your head back towards him, his eyes are still on you— unnervingly dark as they cut through your pliant state but his stare still makes your cunt squeeze with his next thrust.

“you’re s-so pretty.. want, ah—want you to see me cum for you,” another broken, needy plea and you whimper out a dreamy little mhm that makes him fucking moan as his orgasm burns through him. it’s so messy and loud the way he presses his load into you, fucking it into your walls until it’s pushing out of you with every thrust— dampening the mattress beneath you as it smears against your cunt and thighs.

but this time, yuuta stops when he begins to tremble— wrapping himself around you instead when his cock finally eases out of your walls, half soft and still twitching from his orgasm as you all but collapse in his arms. you’re unsure if it’s your now drowsy state that has you curling into him, but you feel like you could sleep for days— not even bothering to care for the mess when you’re in his arms and feeling him press sweet kisses against your features between i love yous.

“thank you, yuu,” it seems your sleeping pill has finally kicked in as you find yourself dozing off, you’ll be sure to thank him for giving you it in the morning after a well deserved rest.

lucky for you.. and him, your boyfriend bought more than one— just for you.

© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[dilfdemolisher]

Hey,

Heard you are in a Hannibal mood right now, so could you please write a needy Hannibal one-shot? They have been busy with their respective jobs and Hannibal comes home after a long, at first just wants to kiss and cuddle, but soon discovers how desperate his body is?😏(nsfw?)

Sorry, if I made you uncomfortable

an: I wrote this while listening to Honeymoon and I feel that its evident; so i insist y'all listen to Salvatore while reading...

YEARNING

Summary: A moment to lounge and enjoy peace becomes much more eventful when Hannibal arrives homes from work—hungry;)

Content Warning: Smut, Hannibal Lector is SIMP!!! Spread the word, oral and fingering (f!receiving), male masturbation (he jacks off during snack-time)

Word Count: 2k

It’s nice to finally have the opportunity to lounge—nothing to write—no one to speak to—no where to go—just you, your book, and the sun accompanying you while you sit comfortably in the lounge chair that has recently been brought outside.  

You always believe you’re not one who’s affected by the seasons; that cold, dreary weather doesn't get the best of you. And you believe that until the weather starts to warm your body up and you feel like you just crawled out of a cave and haven't seen the sunlight in years. 

Your whole body feels hot, and your internal temperature rising from the hot sun on your barely covered skin. You didn’t want the sun to have to penetrate through anything—you wanted it direct. 

You can’t help but let out a sigh. You allow your head to roll back and take your eyes off the pages you are reading, savouring the way the heat permeates through your hair and warms your scalp. So caught up in your relaxation, you didn’t become aware of your partner's presence until you felt a hand on your shoulder that delicately squeezed you. 

You don’t feel the need to open your eyes; you just feel content. 

“You’re the most divine creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He speaks. Oh, how you’ve missed his voice. You’ve both been so caught up in your respective careers that the simple attention he’s giving you right now makes the world seem like it’s stopped spinning and that it’s just you and him, no one else. 

He leans down and peppers kisses onto your shoulder; you can’t help but smile as his mouth trails upwords along the side of your neck. 

Your sure he can hear the grin that's carved onto your face as you speak, “I’m savouring the weather. Who knows how long it will be until we get another day like this.”

He only responds with a hum in agreement, or maybe just in enjoyment of his activities; your not quite sure. “Care to join me?’ You ask in hopes this isn’t just a fleeting moment; you miss him—you want him. 

He stays mute until he brings his lips to your carotid artery and lightly nibbles on the skin that serves to protect it. “I’ve missed you more than you know. I’m tempted to eat you up so I can have a piece of you forever.” He says before hashly nips you. 

It’s a frighting statement indeed, but he said it to you. If it were for someone else, it would be a threat, but for you, its a declaration of love. 

You can’t help but blush at his statement, “What's gotten into you?” 

He doesn't answer; instead, he continues to manifest his care with kisses instead of verbalizing it. His hand makes its way up your back as he pulls his head away. Before you can complain, he places his hands on your shoulders and rubs. You can’t help the small moan that makes its way out of your mouth due to the pressure on your muscles. 

You hear him quietly chuckle above you. You tilt your head back and open your eyes to look at him. 

He’s staring right back at you with a satisfied grin.

It’s ridiculous, and you know it. But sometimes you remember how beautiful he is and it takes you off guard, turning you into a blushing, love-sick fool. 

“Hi.” is all you can say. He says it back; you can see how humorous he finds this and how his simple touches seem to melt your brain away. 

You bring your hand up to his, where he working on your shoulder. “You just got home from work; I should be loving on you.” You say while bringing his hand to your mouth for a sweet kiss. 

He pulls his hand away, “Nonsense.” He says as he returns it back to your shoulder to continue your massage. “I live to love you.”

You love Hannibal, and you have no doubt your feelings are reciprocated, but its unusual for him to be this touchy. 

“I feel like you have bad news and you’re buttering me up.” You joke. You can't help but swoon as you hear his chuckle from above. 

“No bad news.” He says, “We’ve both been suffocated by our work lately and for the moment we aren't, and I feel it would be pitiful to waste it.” He explains. 

Your smile grows larger at his words, “Take off your blazer.” You tell him. You hear him laugh once more as he shrugs it off. 

You immediately understand how words come off. “No, not like that; I’m sure you’re baking in that. I’m just enjoying being here with you. I don’t need anything more.” Your a tad embarrassed by how forward you accidentally sounded, though he didn’t seem to mind. 

He places his blazer down somewhere out of sight. When he returns, his hand lands on your scalp where he gently drags his nails along it. “Just because you don’t need something more doesn’t mean you don’t want it.” 

You rotate your head back once more to look at him. You remember a few moments ago how soft his gaze was. Now it’s much more hungry. 

“I didn’t want to be greedy.” You whisper. There's no need for your quiet tone; Hannibal is the only other soul near you. Yet, just in case you stay hush. The words are meant for him. Yourself—your being—is all for him. 

“You’re too sweet.” His hand falls down farther. He’s slow with his movement, teasing you. His hand lies on your chest, above your heart; you know he’s revelling in the past pace of it—physical proof of your need for him. 

“Be greedy; you deserve it. Your always so good.” His hand  shifts to encompass your breast. He has a firm grip, but nothing to ensue pleasure; he’s waiting for your response. 

His simple words make your mind turn to putty. His face is next to yours—you can sense it. You feel his lips on your cheek—a gentle, kind kiss.  

“That's what I want. I want to be good for you.” It was the correct answer to assume as his hand slides beneath your swim top. 

You utter his name as he kneads your chest. You feel him exhale on your shoulder before biting into while pinching your nipple. His other hand, that’s not busy, starts to remove your top. 

Hannibal's fingers work deftly, sliding your swim top completely off and casting it aside. You feel the warmth of his body leave as he comes to kneel in front of you. Being able to fully see him for the first time since he’s come home, you drink in the sight of him. His own eyes are dark with desire as he takes in the sight of you. 

He kneels in front of you and leans his head against your knee. Its not that you don’t appreciate it, but it’s rare that he’s so indiscreet about his wants. He’s the most cryptic man you’ve ever met—dangerous too. And yet, he’s kneeling before you, looking at you like you’re what makes the world spin. 

He kisses your knee before sliding his hands up your outer thighs and pulling your bottoms down. Once removed and places aside, Hannibal grabs your hand thats laying lip beside you and takes it into your own, clasping your fingers in between yours to hold hand. 

His gaze stays on you, his eyes looking at you with desire and devotion as he gently prys his legs apart with his hand. 

“Hannibal.” You breath, your voice a mix of need and plea. 

He smiles, a sensual curve of his lips that sends a shiver through you, "I want to make you feel everything," he says softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Every touch, every kiss. Let me worship you."

With that, he lowers his head and leans in, his mouth immediately on your most intimate spot which he handles with such precision. His tongue is skilled, flicking and swirling around your clit in a manner that hitches your breath. 

“Fuck.” You swear while he uses his lips and teeth on you, alternating between gentle suction and soft nips.

You feel like he’s eating you alive. 

Your hands grip the soild arms of the chair, head thrown back as he continues his ministrations. You can feel the internal pressure build, the delicious tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you. His one hand presses down on your lower stomach to keep you still, holding you steady as he works you with his mouth. 

“So good.” He lowly hums into you, the vibration from his voice adding to your pleasure. He quickens his pace, moving to a faster rhythm as he removes his hand from yours and probes it around your leaking hole. 

“Please.” You gasp, and that’s all it takes for him to insert his digit inside you. He slowly drags it along your walls, only harshly hitting your sweet spot when you’ve been quiet for a moment. 

You feel yourself getting closer and closer as he sucks and licks; your words become unintelligible and are just as loud as your moans until suddenly, Hannibal pulls away. 

You watch him breathless as he removes both of his hands from you and brings them towards his belt to remove it. You both stare at each other as he unbuttons his trousers and lowers them slightly, just enough to remove himself.

His cock springs free, hard and dripping. He doesn't say a word as he lowers himself down and halts your legs over his shoulders while he dives into your core again. One hand he brings up to your pussy where he pushes two fingers in, moving them fast as his other hand wraps around his shaft. 

His movements are synchronized, moving both his hands at the same time, at the same speed, matching the rhythm. His gaze never leaves yours; the intensity of his glazed over eyes boring into your soul only nears you to your orgasm. 

The sight of him pleasuring himself while his tongue acts on your sensitive core is almost to much to bear. Every flick of his tongue, every movement of his hand causes your eyes to roll back into your skull. 

Hannibals moans reverberate against you, only making you melt more and more. His pace quickens, both on you and himself. As you look at him once again, you can see the strain in his muscles as he gets closer to his own relief. 

You reach down, threading your fingers between his hair and tug, urging him on. “Please Hannibal.” You whine, “Want you to cum.”

He groans at that. “So sweet, always so good for me.” 

His strokes become more frantic, his tongue more insistent. The sight of him on the edge, the feel of his relentless movements on your sensitive clit pushes you towards your climax. 

You feel your body arch towards him as your mind falls blank. The only thing in the world being Hannibal’s continued movements, his tongue on you and his fingers abusing your insides, drawing out your pleasure. 

With a gutteral groan, Hannibal finds his release. His warm cum spilling over his hand, making a mess on the ground below him. 

He collapses onto you, his head leaning against your thigh for a moment before he tucks himself back into his pants and rises. He presses soft kisses on your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, murmuring words of love and praise.

“You’re perfect.” You say quietly against his lips. 

He grins, his canines poking out and revealing themselves. “I could devour you forever.”

[biggest-vi-defender]

arcane S2 act 2 spoilers

okay but let’s talk about the parallel of vi beginning to trust her sister again in ep. 5, and then her choosing to trust caitlyn in ep. 6, and how it revolves around vander.

at the beginning of ep. 5, the trust & relationship between vi and jinx isn’t completely gone, but it is shaky, and it needs to be rebuilt, re-earned.

in S2, jinx is the one who tries to mend their damaged relationship first, which is an incredibly satisfying parallel/foil to S1, which was when vi was the one repeatedly attempting to reach out to jinx.

and it’s somewhat successful, successful enough for vi to agree to follow jinx into the tunnels, albeit she obviously doesn’t trust her— you can see it in the way she refuses to walk first/ahead of jinx, the constant skepticism and irritation on her face, all of it. she isn’t trying to make any conversation or really bond in that moment in the slightest.

and jinx not only accepts this, she seems very understanding, in fact. like she completely understands that vi doesn’t trust her, and she’s willing to not only be okay with that for now, but she’s also going to continue to try to build that trust and that relationship again.

not only is she doing this for vander, but she’s doing it for herself and for vi just as much— her family. the one she feels responsible for breaking in the first place (and even more so, vi also feels guilty for everything in the first place as well).

and you can see as their trust begins to subtlety grow, to the point where vi is facing off against the monstrous beast that jinx is saying is her father, and jinx gives her one more desperate cry of “vi, you HAVE to believe me.”

and she does. she puts the gauntlets down, and she decides to believe in her sister, to put that faith in her. the genuine faith and acknowledgement that jinx has been trying to prove in the first place.

and look where it leads… it leads to them getting their beloved dad back, their family back, and each other back— and ofc it’s very different, and with a new addition, but that love is still the very same. that embrace meant everything to and for them.

and then in ep. 6, vi meets caitlyn again, and while they aren’t how they used to be before the events of ep. 3, there is obv still that lingering sense of attraction, of care for one another. even more so, they both seem aware of it.

you can tell, based on the way vi refers to caitlyn as “cupcake” again, and how caitlyn puts her arm out in front of vi in order to prevent her from walking out & being seen by ambessa and the noxus army (which is a protective gesture that vi also did towards caitlyn in S1, might i add 👀).

and when caitlyn chooses to be honest w vi abt why she’s here— hunting down warwick— vi hesitates for a moment before choosing to put her faith in caitlyn, telling her the truth in response as well.

because, as i said before, vi managed to put so much trust in jinx throughout events of ep. 5, and look what that got her: her sister back, her family back, changed but still beautiful, still loving. she finally has what she has yearned for so, so badly for YEARS once again in the palm of her hand.

and i think that she’s thinking maybe, just maybe, she can put some of that trust in caitlyn again. i think this also ties back to when vi compared caitlyn to jinx. if that comparison still exists in her mind, and jinx is actively changing for the better and now apart of her life again… then maybe caitlyn can and will, too.

and she did. :)

[simpleeindulge]

The Beast and the Mouse

Info: Fem/readerxKid, semi-slow burn, mutual yearning, cussing

Context: Kid develops a crush on a girl, and he can't deal with it.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4🔞

Part 5

Kid woke up with a raging hangover the following day. He groaned and covered his eyes with his left arm. While hangovers were the worst, they never stopped him from indulging.

And I fucking deserved it last night, he thought.

After his rendezvous with the woman in the mask, Kid returned to the bar and drank for the rest of the night. Other women tried to approach him, but he waved them off and then scared them off. He didn't see any value in taking another woman upstairs when the first one actually did her job satisfying him.

Satisfied.

Kid paused and wondered.

When was the last time he was satisfied after fucking just one woman? He breathed in slowly as his head throbbed with thinking. Never, he answered himself. Oh, he would finish, but he usually would have another woman ready, but he didn't have that need this time.

And fucking wasn't the right word, either. It was by no means love-making, but it was different.

Kid lay in bed staring at the ceiling. They were setting sail tomorrow, and the rest of the supplies needed to be gathered today. And then, there was Y/N.

Y/N.

"Fuck," he breathed and then winced.

He would deal with her later when his skull wasn't trying to crush his brain. His thoughts then drifted back to the woman in the mask and what was different about her. She was feisty for one thing, and for another, she actually participated.

The woman seemed to enjoy herself and worked to ensure her pleasure. Interesting for a woman who was supposed to be whore. They typically just did whatever would finish the job so they could move onto the next client.

And she didn't exactly acted like virgin either.

Who was she?

Kid swallowed some bile that crept up into his throat and breathed.

They were setting sail tomorrow and he needed to deal with his mouse problem once and for all.

But first, he needed a little more satisfaction.

Y/N woke up early, showered, and dressed before heading to the infirmary. She started to mix her ingredients when her first patient of the morning walked in.

"Wire," She greeted and quickly poured her concoction into a small glass.

Wire eyed her warily and said, "If this is poison, I will kill you."

Y/N didn't dignify his comment with a reply and merely pushed the glass towards him. Wire glanced at the glass for a minute before reaching for it. He tossed it back and grimaced.

"That tasted like shit."

"But you won't feel like shit for the rest of the morning," Y/N replied and started on her next batch. Wire turned to leave but paused and said, "He's thinking of kicking you off."

Y/N froze, and her head snapped up to look at Wire.

"What?"

Wire peered at her, his expression unreadable.

Y/N knew that Wire was part of Kid's inner circle and that anything Kid shared with Killer typically gets shared with Wire or Heat. Though he trained her, Y/N sensed that Wire's opinion of her was always natural, which was the expectation of that day.

"You need to think if this is where you belong, Mouse." Wire said in a dull tone. "If you have any doubts, you should leave before he kicks you off the boat in the middle of the sea. He's done that before."

Y/N swallowed as she imagined Kid throwing some poor soul off the Victora Punk in the middle of nowhere. She could see him walking away from the railing as they screamed to be let back on the ship. Kid wouldn't waste a lifeboat on someone he deemed worthless.

She wanted to ask Wire if this had to do with the stabbing incident or something else. Y/N wanted to know if there was anything she could do to change his mind or what she was doing wrong. There were more questions she wanted to ask, but Y/N knew that he wasn't the person to talk to. Neither was Heat or Killer.

"Thank you for making me aware of my situation." That was all she said before making her hangover juice for the next person to walk through the door.

Wire didn't bother sparing her a glance as he left the room. More people came into the infirmary, groaning, hands on their foreheads, and looking pale. Y/N served them all her elixir. Wire's warning tumbled in her head, slowly shaking her calm facade apart.

What was Kid's reason for kicking her off the crew?

He couldn't have found out about last night. If he had, Kid would be raging and shouting at her. It was odd timing to punish her for the knife incident now. Maybe Wire had lied to her, but she didn't think he would waste the time.

Y/n let out a frustrated sigh as she set a large pitcher of her elixir on the main counter. She needed a walk to clear her head before she snapped at someone. She set cups next to the pitcher and turned to leave when Killer walked in. Y/N paused as she looked at him with surprise.

Killer didn't seem like the type to get hangovers, and with his mask on, it was hard to tell if he was experiencing any symptoms.

"If you have a hangover, I made a big-"

"Don't need it." Killer said as he walked to the counter and poured the pitcher's contents into a cup.

Y/N realized that Killer must be taking it to Kid.

"The Captain isn't feeling well?" She asked and felt immediately stupid. Kid was a big drinker, and there were mornings when he stomped in here with a foul mood and demanded she make her elixir for him.

Killer ignored her and then turned to leave the room. Y/N knew he wasn't the person to ask and that she should be a big girl and confront Kid herself, but...

"I heard that I might be kicked off the ship." She forced herself to say.

Rarely was it possible to get a straight reaction from Killer. He was the polar opposite of Kid—calm and collected. It was not just his mask that hid his emotions and thoughts. Killer's voice and body language gave nothing away, but her comment surprised him.

He glanced at her and tilted his head in thought, then said, "It's not for me to say if it's true or not. You'll have to ask the Captain yourself."

His answer cemented in Y/N's mind that the kid was going to kick her off the crew.

“Well, shit,” She breathed as she tossed down a cleaning rag she had in her hand. One hand went to her head as the other rested on her hip.

“I guess I can't blame him, but he goated me into stabbing him,” she murmured.

“Do you want to leave?”

Y/N glanced up at Killer.

“Huh?”

“Do you want to leave?” Killer asked again, this time annunciating each word.

“Of course not!” Y/N replied, sounding offended.

“Then talked to him,” Killer replied and left the room.

Y/N groaned. Maybe Wire was right; she needed to consider her opinions while they were still on land.

Y/N was still deciding what to do hours later as she helped shop for supplies. She was browsing a stall with medicinal herbs when a woman came up next to her. Y/n was about to step aside to make room when the woman spoke in a low voice.

"He wants to see you again."

Y/N froze with confusion and quickly realized who the woman was and what she was talking about.

"Does he know?" Asked as she pretended to continue her shopping.

The woman picked up a bundle of holy basil, turning it over to inspect the leaves.

"No, he doesn't."

"What did he say?"

"That he wants to see you again. Tonight."

"For what-?"

"Don't waste time asking stupid questions! You know why!"

Y/N winced at her snappy tone. The madame of the Garden's brothel was right; that was a stupid question.

"I can't. The crew is setting sail tomorrow, and I have other problems I need to deal with."

The woman set the bundle aside and picked up another bundle of herbs Y/N recognized for its use for nerves. The woman sighed and mused, "He and his money are more trouble than they're worth. I let my pride cloud my judgment."

She set that bundle next to her holy basil. Y/N breathed to speak, but the woman cut her off. Her tone was steady at first but edged near hysteria as she noticed Y/N's hesitation and reluctance.

"You will come to The Garden tonight and see him. I will disguise you better if you insist on remaining unknown. I don't care what your problems are, but he is not a man I will risk saying no to!"

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat and pleaded.

"Can't you disguise someone else? Make them look like the girl he was with or like something?"

The woman scoffed, "If it were that simple, I wouldn't have bothered to look for you. I have my limits."

She then selected a few more bundles of herbs and paid the merchant. Y/N made her purchase as well and turned to face the madame.

"You do know that I am part of a pirate crew."

The woman smirked and said, "Yes, I know. I had you followed. Your crew is setting sail tomorrow, so I'm sure there will be one last hurrah tonight. If you are not at The Garden when he asks for you, I will tell your captain something interesting."

She then started to walk away, and men waiting at the other stalls quickly followed behind her. Y/N let out a big breath and headed in the other direction to the ship.

What she needed was a drink and a long think.

Kid was heading back to the ship. They both happened to turn the corner at the same time. They both saw each other and stopped walking.

@ella157 @bdudette @faetoraa @elen-alambil @buckysxgal @ryuv1i @ilovespicykimchi @stuckinthewrongworld @ninablue @kookydoesstuff @Kimyk10br @rivui

[eunseoksimp]

Same Mistake ; Jung Sungchan

this is a super short throwaway from a story i started writing last month but had no motivation to finish tbh.

Pairings: Ex Boyfriend! Sungchan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst

Description: trapped in a cycle of love and heartbreak, you and sungchan navigate the complexities of a tumultuous relationship. as emotions flare and unspoken truths linger, both of you struggle to break free from the patterns that keep pulling you apart.

Warnings: none

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

it was late, and the world outside was quiet in that eerie way it always was just past midnight. the city lights still flickered through the thin curtains, casting faint shadows across the room. the hum of distant traffic provided a low soundtrack to the silence that had settled between you and sungchan. the air felt thick with unspoken words, heavy with emotions neither of you had been brave enough to confront until now. 

you sat on opposite ends of the couch, though it felt like miles apart. sungchan was staring down at his hands, fingers loosely threaded together, while you picked at the fraying edge of a cushion, your mind racing as it always did in moments like this. moments of quiet before everything erupted into chaos again.

“why do you keep doing this?”

his voice broke the stillness, low and tired. you flinched, not because you didn’t expect the question but because you didn’t have an answer. not one that would satisfy him, anyway.

"doing what?" you asked, already knowing what he meant, but stalling. maybe if you delayed the inevitable long enough, it would somehow get easier.

"this." he gestured vaguely, frustration threading through his tone. 

"you act like you don’t care, like i mean nothing to you during the day. you’re cold, distant, like you’re not even here, and then at night..." his words trailed off, but you could hear the weight of what he left unsaid.

and then at night, everything changes. 

you bit your lip, trying to find the right words, but they were slippery, like water through your fingers. you hated how true it was, how predictable you had become. how predictable this entire cycle had become. distant during the day, yearning for connection at night. it was like you were two different people, and the worst part was, you weren’t sure which one was the real you anymore.

"sungchan, i..." you began, but your voice faltered, a lump forming in your throat. 

you didn’t know how to explain that you didn’t mean for things to be this way, that you didn’t even know how they had gotten so bad. it wasn’t like you had planned for this. for the distance. for the constant push and pull that left both of you exhausted.

"i don’t get it," he said, his frustration rising, voice cracking. "i’ve tried so hard to understand you, to meet you halfway, but it’s like you’re never really here. you’re always one step ahead, or one step behind, never where i need you to be." 

you winced at the sharpness in his words, knowing deep down he wasn’t wrong. you could feel the tension between you growing, pulling tighter with every passing second. it was only a matter of time before it snapped.

"i never meant for it to be like this," you whispered, your voice barely audible. 

but even as the words left your lips, they felt hollow. you didn’t even know if they were true. 

hadn’t you? hadn’t you known, deep down, that you were incapable of giving him what he needed? hadn’t you always been aware of the fact that no matter how much you wanted this to work, you were always going to sabotage it somehow?

"then why?" sungchan’s voice cracked, the vulnerability bleeding through his frustration. "why do you do it? why do you pull me in, only to push me away again? do you even care? do i even matter to you?"

your heart clenched at the rawness in his tone, the desperation that you had heard so many times before but never really listened to. because to listen would mean acknowledging how deeply you had hurt him. how deeply you were still hurting him. 

"of course you matter," you replied, your voice trembling. "you matter more than anything, sungchan." 

but even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t enough. words were just words, and they had lost their meaning long ago. every time you had said things would change, every time you had promised to try harder, to be better, had only led you both back here. to the same fight, the same frustration, the same heartbreak.

he let out a bitter laugh, leaning back against the couch, rubbing his face with his hands.

 “then why doesn’t it feel like it? why does it feel like i’m never enough for you? like no matter what i do, i’m always chasing after something that doesn’t even exist.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. there was so much pain in his eyes, so much exhaustion, and you knew that you were the cause of it. 

but what could you say? how could you explain that it wasn’t him, that it had never been about him? it was you. it was always you. 

you swallowed hard, your throat dry as you searched for something—anything—that might make this easier. 

"it’s not about you, sungchan," you finally said, your voice barely a whisper. "it’s me. i... i don’t know how to do this. i don’t know how to be what you need."

"and what exactly do i need?" he asked, his voice softer now, but still laced with frustration. 

you closed your eyes, willing yourself to stay calm, to keep your emotions in check. 

"someone who can give you all of themself. someone who isn’t afraid to commit, who doesn’t get scared and run away the second things get hard. someone who doesn’t make promises they can’t keep."

sungchan shook his head, running a hand through his hair. 

“you keep saying that like it’s some kind of excuse. like you can’t help it, but that’s the thing. you can. you choose this every time. you choose to stay half in and half out. and i... i can’t do it anymore.”

the finality of his words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was sit there in stunned silence. you had always known this was coming, always known that sooner or later, you would push him too far, but hearing him say it out loud made it feel real in a way it hadn’t before.

"so what are you saying?" you asked, your voice shaky. "are you... are you leaving?"

he sighed deeply, looking away, and for a second, you thought you saw his resolve waver. but then he spoke again, his tone steady, determined. 

"i don’t know. but i can’t keep doing this. i can’t keep waiting for you to decide if you want me or not. i’m tired, and it’s breaking me.”

the words sent a shock of pain through your chest, like a knife twisting in your heart. you had known you were hurting him, but hearing him say it so plainly made it impossible to ignore. 

"i never wanted to hurt you," you said, your voice barely audible. 

"but you did," he replied, his voice soft but firm. "and the worst part is, i don’t even think you realize how much."

you swallowed hard, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. he was right. you hadn’t realized. or maybe you had, but you had convinced yourself that it wasn’t that bad, that it wasn’t irreparable. but now, looking at him, seeing the exhaustion in his eyes, you knew you had been wrong.

"i’m sorry," you whispered, the words feeling hollow, but it was all you had.

he let out a breath, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. 

"i know you are," he said, his voice softer now. "but sorry doesn’t fix it."

you bit your lip, the taste of salt and regret on your tongue. he was right, of course. sorry wasn’t enough. not anymore.

"i don’t know how to fix it," you admitted, your voice trembling. "i don’t even know if i can."

sungchan looked up at you, his eyes searching your face as if he was trying to find something—anything—that might give him a reason to stay. but after a moment, he just shook his head, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"maybe that’s the problem," he said quietly. "maybe you’re not supposed to fix it. maybe we’re not supposed to keep trying to make this work when it’s clearly broken."

the words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. this was it. this was the end, and you could feel it slipping through your fingers like sand, no matter how hard you tried to hold on.

"but i don’t want to lose you," you said, your voice breaking. "i don’t want this to be over."

"then why didn’t you fight for it?" he asked, his voice filled with pain and frustration. "why didn’t you fight for us before it got to this point?"

you didn’t have an answer, and the silence that followed was deafening.

he stood up, the movement sudden and jarring, and for a second, you thought he was going to walk out right then and there. but instead, he just stood there, looking down at you with a mixture of sadness and something else—something that looked an awful lot like defeat.

"i love you," he said quietly. "but i can’t keep fighting a battle that’s already lost."

the words shattered something inside of you, and you could feel the tears spilling over, hot and fast down your cheeks. you wanted to beg him to stay, to tell him that you would try harder, be better, do anything to make this work. but the truth was, you didn’t know if you could. 

and deep down, you knew that even if you tried, it wouldn’t be enough. not anymore.

he lingered for a moment, his hand reaching out like he wanted to touch you, to offer some kind of comfort, but then he dropped it to his side, his expression crumpling into something unreadable.

“goodbye,” he whispered, turning away before you could respond, leaving the room and you sitting alone with the wreckage of what was left.

the door clicked softly behind him, but the sound echoed in the stillness of the room, final and absolute.

you sat there for a long time, staring at the spot where he had been, trying to make sense of the emptiness that had settled over you. this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. not like this. but deep down, you had always known it would. you had always known that no matter how much you tried to hold on to the fragments, they were slipping through your fingers, one by one.

and now, it was over.

you didn’t move for what felt like hours, your mind replaying every argument, every promise, every moment of hope and heartbreak that had led you here. you had loved him. you still loved him. but somewhere along the way, you had lost yourself. and in trying to hold on to him, you had let go of the pieces of yourself that had once made you whole.

you thought back to all the times you had promised things would change, that you would be different, better. but no matter how many times you made those promises, the patterns always repeated. the same fights, the same hurt, the same cycle of pushing and pulling until neither of you could breathe.

and now, you were drowning in the consequences.

you moved towards the window, your feet heavy as if each step carried the weight of all the things you never said. the city was still alive out there, vibrant and uncaring, the world going on as if your heart wasn’t breaking into tiny pieces.

 the lights blurred behind your tear-filled eyes, and you wiped them away with the back of your hand, frustrated at yourself for feeling so small. for feeling like a part of you had just walked out of that door.

but the truth was, sungchan hadn’t just left tonight. the two of you had been drifting apart for months now, maybe longer. it had started out so beautifully, with everything seeming to fall into place effortlessly, but somewhere along the way, the cracks had begun to show.

you leaned against the cold glass, memories flooding your mind, uninvited. 

the first time you met, at a party you hadn’t even wanted to go to. you could still see the way he had looked at you from across the room, his eyes bright, curious, like he had seen something in you that no one else had. and maybe that was what had drawn you to him in the first place—the way he made you feel like you were someone special. like you were worth looking at, worth knowing.

it had been exciting, new. you were young, full of hope and potential, and he had been so different from anyone you had ever known. taller than everyone in the room, with a quiet intensity that was disarming. you had felt a spark between you that night, a gravitational pull that made everything else disappear. 

the early days were like that—magnetic. you couldn’t get enough of each other, and you didn’t want to. you stayed up late talking, sharing pieces of yourselves that you hadn’t shown anyone before. you talked about your dreams, your fears, and in those moments, you felt seen in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.

but as time passed, that intensity, that pull, began to shift. you couldn’t pinpoint when exactly, but slowly, the closeness you once shared became stifling. what had felt like comfort turned into something heavier, something that made you feel suffocated. maybe it was the pressure of trying to live up to who he thought you were, or maybe it was the way you had started to lose yourself in the process of trying to be everything he needed. 

and then there was sungchan—always so sure of what he wanted, always so certain about everything. he wanted you, wanted a future with you, and while that should have been enough, it wasn’t. because you weren’t sure of anything, least of all yourself.

you closed your eyes, feeling the sting of tears again, the memories of your past arguments playing on a loop in your mind. there had been so many nights like this, where things started out calm, quiet, only to end with one of you walking away, leaving the other in the wreckage of all the things unsaid. 

you hated fighting with him, but somehow, every conversation seemed to turn into a battle. no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, you always ended up here, locked in this endless cycle of push and pull, of wanting him close but also needing space, needing to breathe. 

you thought back to earlier tonight, when he had sat across from you, eyes filled with the same frustration you had seen so many times before.

"you don’t even know what you want, do you?" he had said, his voice low but sharp, cutting right to the core of you. it was a question he had asked before, and you hated it, because he was right.

you had tried to respond, to defend yourself, but the words got tangled in your throat. it was like every time you tried to explain how you felt, it came out wrong, twisted into something you didn’t mean. so you stayed silent, letting the tension grow, waiting for it to snap.

"it’s like you’re always one foot out the door," he had continued, his voice breaking, and you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. "i’m tired of wondering where i stand with you. i’m tired of waiting for you to make up your mind."

and you had sat there, frozen, knowing that he deserved better. knowing that he was right, but not knowing how to fix it. not knowing if you even could.

his words echoed in your mind now, the weight of them settling over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating in their truth. you had always been afraid of commitment, of giving too much of yourself to someone and losing who you were in the process. and with sungchan, that fear had become a reality. 

you wanted to love him, wanted to be the person he needed, but you didn’t know how. and every time you tried, every time you made a promise to change, you fell back into the same patterns, repeating the same mistakes over and over again.

"god, why can’t i just be normal?" you muttered to yourself, pressing your forehead against the cool glass. it was an endless loop in your mind. you wanted to love him, but every time you got close, you pulled away. 

you wanted to be better, but every time things got difficult, you found yourself slipping back into the same habits—pushing him away during the day, only to crave his touch at night. it was like some part of you couldn’t handle the intimacy, the vulnerability of being loved, and so you sabotaged it before it could get too close. before he could get too close.

you turned away from the window, the weight of your thoughts dragging you down. your phone was still sitting on the coffee table, silent, mocking you with its stillness. part of you wanted to call him, to apologize, to beg him to come back. but another part of you knew that it wouldn’t change anything. you had done this dance too many times before, and no amount of apologies or promises could fix the brokenness between you.

the sound of your own footsteps seemed too loud in the quiet apartment as you paced back and forth, trying to make sense of the mess in your head. you had wanted this to work, hadn’t you? you had tried. so why couldn’t you just let go of whatever it was that kept pulling you away from him?

and then there was sungchan—always so patient, always so willing to wait for you to figure things out. but even he had his limits. you had seen it in his eyes tonight, the way he had looked at you with a mix of frustration and resignation, like he was finally realizing that no matter how much he tried, you were never going to be the person he needed you to be.

he had always been the strong one, the one who held things together when they started to fall apart. but tonight, for the first time, you saw the cracks in his facade. you saw the weariness in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of it all. and you knew, deep down, that you were the cause of it.

you sat down on the couch, your legs folding under you as you stared at the empty space where he had been. your mind wandered back to the first time you had fought. it had been about something small, something so insignificant you couldn’t even remember the details now. but the way he had looked at you afterward, like he couldn’t believe that this was who you were, had stayed with you.

he had been so confused, so hurt, and you had been unable to explain why you had reacted the way you did. it had been the beginning of the pattern—the pushing and pulling, the way you would shut down whenever things got too real, too close. 

you sighed, leaning your head back against the couch, your eyes staring up at the ceiling. you had never been good at vulnerability. even as a kid, you had learned to keep your feelings tucked away, hidden from the world. your parents had never been the type to show affection, and you had grown up believing that love was something distant, something earned through achievement rather than freely given. 

and so, when sungchan had come into your life, with his open heart and his unwavering belief in love, you hadn’t known what to do with it. it had felt foreign, like a language you didn’t understand, and your instinct had been to run. but he had stayed, even when you pushed him away. he had stayed through every fight, every moment of doubt, believing that you were worth it. 

but now, you could see that belief starting to fade. 

the silence stretched on, the minutes ticking by, and you wondered what he was doing right now. was he as torn up as you were, or was he relieved that he had finally said the words that had been weighing on him for so long? 

you wiped at your eyes again, the tears coming slower now, but the ache in your chest remained. it was a dull, constant pain, one that you knew wouldn’t go away easily. 

"what the hell am i doing?" you whispered to the empty room, your voice barely audible. you had asked yourself that question so many times, but tonight, it felt heavier, more urgent. you had spent so long trying to protect yourself, trying to keep your heart safe from the pain of being fully known, but in the process, you had pushed away the one person who had been willing to love you anyway.

you stood up, your movements slow and deliberate, and walked to the small bookshelf by the door. there, tucked between a stack of books was a small box—a collection of mementos from your relationship. you hesitated for a moment before pulling it out, your fingers tracing the edges of the worn cardboard.

you sat back down on the couch, the box in your lap, and opened it slowly. inside were small tokens of your time together—movie tickets, polaroid pictures, handwritten notes.

you stared at the contents of the box, a flood of memories washing over you, each one a snapshot of the life you had shared with sungchan. the polaroids caught your eye first—moments frozen in time. there was one of him laughing, his eyes scrunched up and his mouth open wide in a way that made you feel warm inside, back when things were still easy between you. you remembered taking that picture, teasing him for being so serious all the time. 

"you’re always in your head," you had said, holding the camera up. "smile for once."

and he had—because you asked him to. because that’s who sungchan was, always giving a little bit more than you deserved.

your thumb brushed over another photo, this one of the two of you together, arms around each other, smiling in front of a beach sunset. your faces were flushed from the summer heat, and his hair was a mess from the wind, but you both looked happy. genuinely happy. 

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears, but it was useless. they spilled over, and you let them fall this time. the weight of everything—the good memories, the bad ones, the regret—it all hit you at once. there were too many things left unsaid, too many chances you hadn’t taken. all the times you could’ve been honest with him but chose to stay silent instead. 

why was it so hard for you to love him the way he needed? you had asked yourself that question a thousand times, but no answer ever came.

as you sifted through the box, you found a note, folded and tucked away at the bottom. it was one of the first letters sungchan had written to you, back when he used to leave little messages for you to find. you unfolded it, your hands trembling as you read the familiar handwriting.

you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

the words were simple, but the meaning behind them was everything. it wasn’t just a declaration of love—it was a promise. a promise that he had kept, over and over, despite how difficult things had become. he had believed in you, in the two of you, even when you couldn’t believe in yourself.

but now, as you sat here alone, holding onto fragments of what once was, you realized how much you had taken that for granted. sungchan had been everything you had ever wanted—patient, kind, understanding—and yet, it still hadn’t been enough. or maybe *you* hadn’t been enough.

the thought made you sick to your stomach. how had you let it get to this point? how had you let someone like him slip away?

the weight of your regret felt unbearable. you had always told yourself that you didn’t need anyone, that you were fine on your own, but the truth was that you were terrified. terrified of letting someone in, of letting them see all the parts of you that you didn’t even want to look at yourself. and in trying to protect yourself, you had pushed away the only person who had ever truly seen you.

you pressed the note to your chest, closing your eyes as more tears spilled over. you had been selfish, hadn’t you? always running from your own emotions, always pulling away whenever things got too real. and now, it was too late. sungchan had finally reached his breaking point, and you couldn’t blame him for it.

as the minutes passed, you began to replay the countless arguments in your head. the way you’d get defensive, shutting him out whenever he tried to dig deeper, to understand what was really going on inside your head. the way he’d always try to smooth things over afterward, his voice soft as he asked you to just talk to him. 

"tell me what you’re thinking," he’d say, his eyes searching yours. "i don’t want to guess anymore."

but you never did. you never let him in. and now you were paying the price.

suddenly, your phone buzzed on the coffee table, startling you. your heart leaped in your chest for a brief moment—maybe it was sungchan. maybe he was calling to apologize, to tell you that he wasn’t really leaving. maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance.

but when you looked at the screen, your heart sank. it wasn’t him. just a notification, something meaningless. you let out a shaky breath, the hope that had flared up inside you quickly extinguished. 

he wasn’t going to call. this time, he was really gone.

you stood up, feeling restless, pacing the small living room as your mind raced. what were you supposed to do now? you couldn’t undo the past, couldn’t take back the things you had said—or the things you hadn’t said. and the worst part was, you didn’t even know if you deserved another chance. you had hurt him, over and over again, with your indecision, your fear of commitment. 

was it selfish to want him back now? or was it just another one of those moments where you were chasing something you couldn’t have? 

you sank down onto the couch again, your head in your hands. maybe you didn’t deserve him. maybe this was just the universe’s way of telling you that some things weren’t meant to be. 

but even as you tried to accept that, the ache in your chest refused to go away. because the truth was, you loved him. you always had. you just didn’t know how to show it. 

and now, maybe you never would.

the minutes stretched into hours as you sat there, lost in your own thoughts, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a physical burden. you thought about all the moments you had shared, the laughter, the late-night talks, the way his hand had felt in yours. you thought about the future you had once imagined with him, the life you could’ve had if things had been different.

and you thought about the mistakes you had made, the things you would give anything to take back. the promises you had broken, not just to him, but to yourself. you had wanted to be better, but somehow, you always ended up falling back into the same patterns, the same destructive habits.

why couldn’t you just be enough?

the thought echoed in your mind, over and over, until it was the only thing you could hear. you had spent so long trying to protect yourself, trying to keep your heart safe.

but in the end, all you had done was build walls that no one, not even sungchan, could break through.

and now, you were alone.

[eamour]

is this what you want ?

there are plenty of reasons why your desire hasn’t manifested into your physical reality yet, even if you "think" you have been persisting in the assumption that you already have it in your imagination. see, persistence guarantees success. if you persist in a thought, no matter how much you like or dislike it, it'll manifest. why is that so? it's because you are creating a belief and know that thought to be true regardless of your attitude towards it.

but do you ever think about why your desires aren't materialising? do you ever complain about how your desires take too long or never truly show up? or are you already getting tired of imagining the same scene over and over again every night, hoping it will finally manifest? well, maybe … just maybe … you don't want it enough — or at all.

who is desiring ?

when you are desiring something, who does that? who is desiring? your inner man. your real you. and that inner man clearly knows who you are, what you want, and so on.

nevertheless, we might not always be aware of what we truly want. yes, a luxurious life seems appealing, especially as it's easy to manifest — just like everything else — and because everybody wants to live lavish. but is that what you want? do you really desire that? we are told that we can have anything we want, but just because you can technically have it, do you really want to?

how to know if you want it.

you can tell if you actually desire something by your reaction to it. repeat a scene in your mind a couple of times and observe your reaction. do you get tired of it? does it no longer satisfy you? does it feel like a burden? you will have a hard time sticking to a mindset that doesn't make you happy, and will therefore fail to persist. now, those could all be signs for you that indicate you no longer or don't really want your desire (anymore).

naturally, you will want to engage with the feeling of having your desires which makes you want them in the first place. you will yearn for more of that feeling. if you're not doing that, you will pretty much remain as you are. that's how you know if you want it or not.

you must want to change self.

this is actually a phrase neville said! so, manifesting a change within your reality equals a change within yourself — and i'm not simply addressing the rearrangement of assumptions regarding external factors. no, i'm talking about how changing means to actually also change yourself. your attitude towards yourself, your set of beliefs aka your entire state changes. 

wanting to feel the change.

you manifest through feeling — not in an emotional sense, but through acceptance, knowing and realising that you are in possession of your manifestation. i like the way edward art puts it: "you can imagine what you want, but in order to really feel a change in self, it must be something you deeply want." knowing that, you must change yourself, and also need to want to feel the change. because wanting our desire to unfold in our realities means to long for the feeling that will be enabled in all of us.

not looking back.

edward said "the only way to not look back is by wanting to not look back." the same way you want to look forward and claim to have your desires, you must want to not look backward and claim not to have your desires. if you want your desire, if you want the feeling, why would you want the opposite? you wouldn't. and just like that, you can choose: do i have it or not?

want and feel the feeling.

do what you want to do. desire what you want to desire. and feel the feeling you would want to feel.

"we must want to change. we must want to think greater and greater. we must want to feel the best. we must want it. we must want to feel abundant. we must want to feel the best feelings for the sake of feeling the best." — edward art

with love, ella.

[violettduchess]

Ahhh I hope I'm not too late! Thank you for opening requests! This is exciting! Would you mind doing some headcannons for Cyran, Chevalier, Clavis, and Matias with Emma at a Festival At Night prompt? Thank you! ❤️

A/N: Here you go @echoes-in-the-forest!

A final entry for the Sunshine and Starlight CC hosted by myself and @lorei-writes.

Featuring: Cyran, Matthias, Clavis, Chevalier

Note: Requests that were not written for the challenge may still be written! I just didn't have time to get them all done for this.

WC: 2k

Cyran

The stars above blaze with cold light like diamond-bright pinpricks across the black velvet sky. Over Cyran’s shoulder, the town answers with its own glow: the flickering of white fairy lights strung along the buildings and the stronger, warm orange of the bonfire at the town’s center. For a moment, the sight grabs your attention, holding it prisoner in illuminated chains. But Cyran reclaims it with the grip of his hands on your hips, the hot press of his lips to your cheek. Your eyes fall shut, enshrouding you in darkness but heightening every other sense: the whisper of the wind through the trees as it blends with the gruff sighs of your beloved when you pull him closer; the sweet echo of sparkling wine you can still taste on his tongue; the feel of the rough tree bark through your blouse, against your back; the soft linen of his tunic under your palms, the summer-sun heat of his mouth as it meets yours again and again.

“Seems like coming tonight was a good idea.” You hardly recognize your voice, your breath so shallow, the words rising and falling on an ocean of yearning. He grins against your lips, pulls you even closer. “It will be,” he murmurs with a playful bite to your lower lip. You would chastise him, but you’re laughing too much, giddy with desire and wine and Cyran. Not many have access to this side of him, this passionate, soft, sweet soul that has allowed you in where few have ever tread and holds you there, safe and loved.

“We should at least find somewhere….not quite so woodsy.” You love him and you want him, but you’re also very aware of the sounds of the music, still audible even from the trees where you have hidden yourselves, the laughter of the festival crowd punctuating the air. With great control, he steps away from you, pausing a moment to brush your hair from your shoulders, tuck an errant strand back into place tenderly before looking back at the twinkling village, his bright eyes scanning the night. Then he smiles, slow and satisfied.

“The carriage is not far away. I believe we told the driver we’d stay until midnight which gives us over an hour–” He doesn’t need to say another word. You’ve already threaded your fingers through his, leading the way.

Matthias

He watches the dancing crowd with serious blue eyes, the flickering flame of the torches illuminating their azure depths like frostfire. His tall, strong body radiates a stillness contradictory to the energetic fiddle music that surrounds you. You reach out, sliding your hand into his, wrapping your fingers around his prominent knuckles. A slight tug is all it takes. He glances down at you and tilts his head in inquiry.

“You want to dance?” It doesn’t take a soldier’s hawk-eyed vision to see the hope in your face, the bright question in your eyes. Anyone else would get a cool shake of his noble-head, a frown on his beautiful lips. But you aren’t just anyone. For you, he’d move mountains. For you, he’d raze villages. For you, he will dance.

Effortlessly he takes you into his arms and steps seamlessly into the moving crowd. Under his steady guidance you glide across the cobblestones of the town square as if they were smooth as ice, faster and faster. You are a petal in the wild wind, stardust blown across the snow-capped peaks of the Acroite mountains. You focus on him as the world spins around you. The warm torchlight highlights the blond of his hair and he looks as if he has been kissed by the flames. He quite literally takes your breath away.

You spin like twin planets to the fiddlers' spirited playing until, sadly, the bows pull their final stroke across the strings and the music comes to an end. With your heart racing and your cheeks warm with joy and exertion, he leads you away, sliding a strong arm around your waist as you try to catch your breath. He bends down, his lips close to your ear. “Is everything alright?” You nod, leaning into the strength of his side. When you meet his gaze, you find him studying you, concern tugging his mouth down into a frown. “It was a lively dance and we spun so quickly.” You pause, offering him a gentle smile. “But I do so love dancing with you, Matthias.”

The sincerity of your words pierces his worried demeanor and softens his expression, washing his handsome face in the soft watercolor of love. Spontaneously, he cups your cheek and bends further to kiss you, once, with more tenderness than anyone would think him capable of. You know there is more in that gesture than words could do justice. “My Rosebud.” And then he smiles, soft as morning mist over the mountains. “I love dancing with you, too.”

Clavis

The liquid in your hammered tin cup is a very aggressive green, even in the light of the bonfire at the town’s center. Skeptically, you raise your gaze to Clavis, meeting his delighted golden gaze. “What did you do to my whiskey?” He is still in the process of tucking the small packet of powder back into his jacket pocket. His grin never falters as he looks into your cup and then into your eyes. “Try it, my sweet lamb. I promise I’ve only made it even tastier than usual.” Noting the furrow of your brow, he traces his finger along your cheek. “Trust me, darling. I’d never deceive you.”

You soften at his words. He’d never do anything to hurt you…or make you ill. Ignoring the way your body wants to rebel at the noxious color, you bring the cup to your lips and drink. Flavor explodes across your taste buds. It’s the warmth of a hearthfire on a cold winter’s night. It’s the smokey-voiced whisper of a lover asking you to come to bed. It’s an explosion of amber rioting en masse on your tongue. It’s powerful and comforting and unlike anything you have ever tasted.

“Clavis,” you gasp, gripping his arm with your free hand. “This is amazing.” If he were a peacock, he’d be splaying his tail feathers right now. “I told you, my love.”  He links his arm through yours. “Come with me, let’s go watch the fire eater. I’ve heard amazing things.” You take another sip from your cup. “I drink more of this and I bet I can give them a run for their money.” He laughs as you walk together towards the grassy area where you can watch the display. “Perhaps I should be sure.” Pausing, he catches your chin and tilts your head up before leaning down to kiss you. You melt into the familiar feel of his lips, the comfort of his scent and touch. He takes a moment longer to open his eyes, savoring the taste. “No more flames here than the usual ones every kiss from you causes.” You shake your head, unable to keep from giggling. 

As you settle down onto the cool grass to watch the fire eater, Clavis sneaks a glance at your profile. Beloved, beautiful, the most dear sight in the entire world to him…..even if your lips have turned a most vivid shade of green.

Chevalier

There is so much to see! Acrobats tumbling across the grass, a bonfire right in the town’s center. Fairy lights are strung from building to building. Vendors ply their wares, selling everything from homemade jewelry and woven scarves to meat pies and whiskey. A lively band plays a jig and townspeople dance with glowing abandon, clasping hands and fluttering eyelashes. Young couples sneak off into the bordering forest while others take to the cover of the shadows between buildings. You finish your last bite of powdered pastry and turn to Chevalier who is watching the revelry with a neutral expression. “Do I have any sugar on my face?” He glances at you and the corner of his mouth lifts in an amused smile. “Naturally.” He reaches up, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away the dusting of white at the corner of your mouth. You’re contemplating playfully biting that thumb when you hear a wail from quite nearby.

A small child of about five years old is crying, clutching a red balloon in one hand. She has dark curls that spill down her back, the rest of her hair tied up and out of her face with an enormous yellow bow at the back of her head. Her white stockings are dirty as is the smock of her buttercup yellow dress. Oh dear. After exchanging glances with Chevalier, you approach the little girl, kneeling so you are at her level.

“What’s the matter, little one?” The child tries to speak through her sobbing, knuckling at her teary brown eyes with her free hand. “My b-b-balloon flew away and I w-went to catch it. I followed it d-down an alley but once I had it, I looked and my mum was gone! I’ve lost her!” She collapses into tears again. You reach out, placing a soothing hand on her narrow back. “Shh…it’s alright.” You glance over your shoulder at Chevalier. He’s watching you both, his blue eyes dark in the dim light. “We’ll help you find her.” The little girl considers your words as tears slide freely down her round cheeks. She sniffles. “You will?” Then she pauses, suddenly realizing her situation as she takes a step back. “I’m not s-supposed to talk to strangers.” She reminds you of a fawn, trembling right before it sprints into the cover of the forest.

You glance over your shoulder and then turn back to her. “It is a good thing that he is a Prince of Rhodolite.” Brown eyes widen as she looks at Chevalier with newfound awe. “You’re a prince?” He nods once, curtly. “Indeed he is,” you continue. “And it is a prince’s duty to help his subjects when they are in need. Isn’t that right?” You give him a very pointed look and he blinks before answering. “Correct.” The young girl’s crying is forgotten as she studies him. “So princes have to help their people.” He nods again. “It is one of their most important tasks,” you add. She considers this a moment and then mirrors Chevalier’s nod. “Alright.”

You stand, turning to face the crowd of people. After a moment, he addresses the young girl. “You require a higher vantage point.” She nods as if she understands what he means and then lets out a whoop of delight when he lifts her up high onto his shoulders. Her red balloon still held firmly in one hand, she automatically scans the crowd. “There! I see her! By the popcorn stand!!” She thumps Chevalier excitedly on the head and you have to suppress your own laughter. Gruffly he lowers her and without hesitation, she grabs his hand, tugging him in the direction she saw her mother with you in tow.

When her mother spots her, she rushes forward, wrapping the little girl in her arms. “Oh, my love, you gave me such a fright.” A waterfall of gratitude falls from her lips as she thanks both you and Chevalier for your help. The little girl gently breaks free of her mother's relieved embrace and hurries towards Chevalier. She stops right in front of him and smiling brightly, holds out the balloon. “A present. For being a good prince and helping me.” He looks uncertain a moment until you press a gentle, unseen hand against his back. Clearing his throat, he takes the offering. “You’re welcome,” he answers solemnly. 

The little girl and her mother take their leave. As they depart, you can hear the mother’s voice as it fades. “A prince? Oh Lorei, do stop with your wild stories.” When they have disappeared from sight, you reach up, wrapping your arms around Chevalier’s waist and hug him tightly. He embraces you back with one arm, head tilted. “Yes?” 

You lean back to look at him, the red balloon bobbing above his head and smile. “I love you. That’s all.” He offers you one of his rare, open smiles in response before dropping a kiss on your forehead. “And I, you.”

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[lokiandbuckysdoll]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐻𝑜𝓁𝒹𝓈 𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒫𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇

Summary: Loki Holds all the power in his hand when he wants you.

Pairing: Loki x Plus-sized! Reader

Word count: 844

Warnings: 18+!! SMUT!, IMPACT PLAY KINK! ( well my attempt at it lmao) Spanking, DOM! Loki. Use of a flogger. Language, unprotected sex.

A/N: My first kinktober fic. I hope you enjoy this. As always let me know if I missed tagging something!. Kinktober23 list

From the minute you walked into the room, he had his eyes on you, and as you drew nearer to him, they followed every step you took. His desire for you increased as a result of the intoxicating scent of your perfume. Loki looks down at the garment that hugs your body and contours flawlessly.

His eyes lock onto yours as you raise your head to meet them. "Darling, you look delectable tonight, I just want to ruin you." He pulls off your dress with a flick of his fingers. He was naked from the waist up and stood tall. He stretched his stance, a perfect arc of long limbs from his heavy boots leading to the top of his huge cock. Signature leather tights rested snug to his firmly formed hips. His hands traced the contours of your figure, feeling each line for signs of resistance. He couldn't locate any.

"Take me, my prince," you said as he placed his palms on the curve of your ass, which had been peeking out from his favorite panties on you.  "Mhm, I think I just might have too," He said, as he became transfixed on your sallow eyes that were looking up at him.

When your palm was turned upward and cupped his rigid length through the cloth covering it, he tipped his head back and gasped in pleasure. He slowly backed away from you as his eyes tore through your body. He was aware of your previously existing wetness, slickness, and readiness for a full-on fuck.

A long flogger emerged within his right palm, which blazed. He wielded it like a weapon, the lashes enclosed in dark green leather and glinted in the firelight as it stretched towards you.

The rough leather caressed your face, delicately tapping you once. His eyes glinted as he slid the tool between your breasts, assessing your obedience. "Turn around, my dear, hands down…ass up." His rich voice, filled with sensual need,  shot a rush through you, leaving you wet and longing for his touch.

As he pulled his rapid attack through to completion, the flogger hurt vibrantly on the delicate flesh. As you prepared for the next wonderful stroke, you caught sight of the god's backhand out of the corner of your eye; Thwack

Each one pushed you farther into the bed. As he marked you again and again, his unrestrained hand found its way to the bottom of your back, cursing dirty insults that made you tighten. Your mind raced; Thwack

As he took his fill, you whimpered like a whore against the covers. He was lethargic. Purposeful. loving each flawlessly timed measure of his dominance's theatrics.

You wanted to be satisfied with the blistering heat inside you more than anything, for his magnificent cock to comfort you from within and out; Thwack

"Only a couple of more, my Love…you're performing so well," he said softly as he reached down to kiss your backside. He moved his long fingers along your curves and reached your yearning cunt, his name spilled from your lips, increasing to the origin of pleasure which he knew so well.

You felt like you were floating on air, engulfed in the pleasure and agony of his every touch. As he took his hand away from you, the angle altered dramatically. As he unfastened his pants and gripped both of his hands onto your hipbones, the flogger slipped to the floor. His breath caressed your face as he pressed his chest against your back. "Give in to me now, my little slut," he hissed as he slipped his cock into you from behind. "Come around your master's cock, envelope me in your devotion…" His voice got raspy as you gasped, finally feeling him inside of you.

Loki's speed quickened with each thrust, and he lifted his palm and placed a harsh slap on your redden ass as his sperm spurted into your urgently keening cunt as you longed for the pressure his pelvic thrusts offered. "Fuck.. Yes right there, darling!" he thrust one last time, and you fell over the edge with a strangled shout of your prince's name. You both dropped onto the bed, exhausted. As he wrapped you in his arms and kissed you tenderly, his moist hair fell into your eyes.

"Darling, this was phenomenal…" he breathed as you kissed him on the neck. His chest vibrated with heavy breaths, and the salt of his sweat that accumulated on his muscles clung to your lips as you kissed him again. "We certainly must do this again."

"I agree," you giggled, the comforting afterglow of your climax calming the stinging feeling on your lower body. "It felt amazing, but my ass is sore now" He chuckled darkly as he twisted over you, trapping you to the bed as his hair fell to your face and your waiting lips.

"I know a different thing that might be able to ease your mind of the soreness" He declared lustily over you, as he began to kiss his way down your abdomen.

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[riewritten]

「 MERE DROPLETS CAN STILL MAKE A GLASS FULL 」 • AO3

ERWIN X FEM!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N

˚ · .─ SYNOPSIS: Despite blatant awareness of how much you hold him with affection, he will rely entirely on subtleties because he believes it's the farthest he must go. He'll keep doing just that until it piles up, up and up and up, until it brings Erwin on the verge of exploding. After all, mere droplets of water can still make a glass full. | READ CHAPTER 1 HERE

˚ · .─ WORDS: 3.5k

˚ · . ─ TAGS: age gap, angst because of the age gap lol, erwin is a professor/researcher while reader is his research assistant, touch-starved idiots

It was as if your creator just built you to ponder on nothing but the hypothetical—never satisfied, never quenched. Even right now, as Erwin is on the other side of the chaotic welcome party for you and your fellow exchange students, you cannot—for the love of god—settle yourself. Amidst the energy these new people offer before you, you find nothing but exhaustion for fooling yourself. Seeing Erwin, not a country away from you, so reachable, and yet your greedy ego could still not be quenched, made you realize that coming here will never be enough. You need to hold him. You need to be at least an inch apart from his face. Only now did you realize that Levi could be right all along. Following Erwin would do nothing but make things harder.

“So, for the last part of our welcoming party…” 

He needs to know how aware you are of his occasional glances at your table.

“We present our new people to the faculty!

He needs to know your desperation to return the glances he’s been giving you since this damn party started. 

“First off, our exchange students and researchers!”

You think of going home but are unsure if the ‘home’ in question is your new unit in this country, or perhaps—much to Erwin's relief—your homeland.

“One of them still hadn’t adjusted to the new country air, I see!” 

Chortles fill the bar, only then do you realize that the host is talking about you. They’re calling for the newcomers to come up to the stage and introduce themselves. You're the only one who didn’t stand up, lost in the abyss of your repressed yearning. However, just as you’re about to apologize and indulge them, a newcomer whispers to the host.

“Oh! Uh-huh… I get that, I get that,” he nods, then turns to you. Mic on. “Adjusting might indeed take some time, so don’t you worry and just sit well!” 

You curl your eyebrows, unaware of the newcomer's name who whispered to him about your situation. How did he manage to explain it on your behalf when you two don't even know each other?

“Everyone here went through the same, after all! Isn’t that right, folks?" Then the crowd laughed along with him. The girl beside you pats your back in sympathy, then says something along the lines of, "We cried every night for the first three months. It’s okay! We’ll help you adjust.”

Just with that, the newcomers who came upstage were brought back to their seats.

How lovely, if one might say, but you couldn’t feel anything but confusion.

Not long after, the man who whispered walks to you. “Hi, Moblit here,” then reaches his hand, casual, poised, acting as though he's been a longtime friend. “And you are…?"

You certainly had never seen him before. Even way back in your country.

“Ah, apologies. I know you’re wondering what I said to the host who excused you from the newcomer spotlight. Is this seat taken?”

“Indeed, I am surprised,” you chuckle and nod at the spare chair beside you, “and nope, not taken at all. Come here. That’s the least I could do for you after saving my ass back there.”

Moblit chuckles, then out of courtesy, offers a glass before starting. “You were Mr. Smith’s former research assistant, right?”

You almost drop the glass he just filled. Luckily, Moblit’s a bit tipsy to notice your change in demeanor. “M-mr. Smith, you say?”

Moblit hums, “He told me a lot about you, even before you came here.”

So that was the answer. Plain and simple.

“How did you know him?” Your own question immediately drenched you in cold regret. You don't want to talk about him anymore, not when you're yearning so much. Perhaps Jane Austen was right; if one loved the other less than they did, then maybe they'd be able to talk about it more.

“Let’s just say I became your replacement.” Replacement? You almost roll your eyes. “Mr. Smith often tells me he never had a research assistant as capable as you are until he hired me.” Go fuck yourself! “I must admit, reaching the standards you had set for him was quite a challenge.” Because I wasn't supposed to be replaced in the first place!

Suddenly, you feel like you’re five years old again, experiencing the first time you’ve ever felt betrayed by someone outside your family. It feels so petty. Disgustingly petty.

“He’s not very talkative back then,” you trailed, trying to conceal the reeking insecurity by stating a thing you just realized; “I wonder what made him tell you details about me, let alone my tendency to get overwhelmed in crowded, noisy, and new places.”

As if you're competing with Moblit right now and you vehemently deny that you're really replaceable—that the one man you couldn't even get to forget would easily find someone else if he needs to.

“Well, I remember most of his stories because he narrates them entertainingly. You can say we have the same level of homesickness, too, so we instantly clicked despite our age differences."

You hold onto your glass harder, thinking of ways to divert the conversation, because now your mind is flooding you with repeated screams of, ‘Alas, you’re actually not that special! Get over it!’ that it makes you want to bang your head on the wall. You’ve never been this immature before. You, for the longest time, have practiced the cadence and poise of people beyond your age.

Or, perhaps, it was just your mind taking its silly little revenge for suppressing the feelings you thought were unfitting of your character—for fooling everyone including yourself.

"You see,” Moblit calls your name, “the majority of the fellows here, newcomers or not, had Mr. Smith as their mentor while on their master's degree. That's how prime he is."

You’re actually not that special. Get over it. You’re actually not that special. Get over it. You’re actually not that special. Get over it.

"Did Mr. Smith also tell you how he discovered my tendency to get overwhelmed in crowded places?"

"Sort of…? Earlier, he tapped me for a favor. He said you're the former assistant he always talks about. Then he asked me to accompany you amidst the noisy room. He didn't expound," he chuckles then, “it makes me feel special! Seems like I’m entrusted to a task only I could do.”

Years ago, when you went on a fact-finding mission with Erwin and had a night out with the community members, no one but him sensed your tense demeanor. He excused both of you from the crew under the guise of getting some stuff from the van. Only then did he bring you to a much quieter place, place an ice-cold can of coffee on your cheeks, and instruct you to breathe.

The memory intensified the yearning. What if you just pretend nobody else is in the party-riddled room but you and him? In a circumstance where you could run and touch him in a way you'd like to, and no hint of bother would be plastered on his features? 

Your glance, after painstaking hours of holding it in, finally lands at Erwin this time around. And much to your surprise, he's actually staring at you just the same. He averts it quickly as if caught busted, then chugs down his glass before indulging in the professor beside him.

You chugged down your glass too, not minding the immediate woozy feeling it brought. Perhaps the alcohol would lessen the petty, petty yearning.

But in reality, this ‘petty, petty yearning’ you perceived was induced by your repressed childishness increased when you thought of things you could do to cope. This feeling has been making you lethargic since you came here (and worsened, in fact, after that confrontational night with Erwin). And thus, you ask yourself: if I were to sleep with someone, would my exhaustion be quenched?

You continue your conversation with Moblit while pondering so; this time the pressure in your nerves eased quite a bit. Moblit seems to be interested in you—you're not naive to think otherwise—and if that feeling would be of service to you, then you might as well grab it.

As childish as it sounds (and as much as you hate it, too), people of Erwin's age could also do it without being ridiculed, right? That's how Erwin did, after all. With his ex-wife, he did.

You bite your lip, suddenly on the edge again.

“Moblit,” you languidly place your hand on his shoulder, willing to shoot your shot. “Don't you think we should take it someplace—”

“Excuse me,” a familiar voice interrupts you two. Your inebriated mind suddenly sobers up. “They were asking if you guys would like to join the seniors in their car. They're willing to drive you home.”

“Mr. Smith!” Moblit perks up, albeit his posture is slurry. “T-the party's done, eh? Hehe, I got too caught up talking, it seems.”

“Thank you for accompanying her nicely, Moblit.”

“My pleasure,” Moblit, much to your surprise, looks at you quite endearingly. Your flustered face brought his shyness back, though. With a weaker voice, he asks, “So… would you like to…”

“Keep contact?” you smile. “We will! We'll be seeing each other more often at the faculty, after all.”

“O-oh, yes, of course.” Moblit shrinks further. “I meant… uh…”

Of course, you know what he means. It's just that you realized how Moblit, this seemingly pure-hearted boy, deserves to be treated better than being a temporary coping mechanism—something you just realized after having Erwin's presence near you again.

If someone's going to be hurt by you tonight, it should be Erwin alone.

You don't think he completely understands what he has done to you, but he would, surely so, the moment you're done with him.

Or so your drunk self claims.

As if brought by instinct, Erwin's presence finally let you drop your guard, letting the tipsiness take over. You slouch your dizzy head down the table, not bothering to bid Moblit goodbye anymore. It doesn't take long for them to construe that you've finally lost it.

“I'm taking her home,” Erwin offers.

“O-oh, okay then. Good night, Mr. Smith.”

Only the two of you are left now. What a waste, this is the only moment your wish came true, and yet you're already too inebriated to comprehend what's happening.

Erwin gently taps your shoulder and softly nudges it, “Come on. You have to go home.”

“Mhm.”

An immovable heap, that's what you are. Erwin shakes his head in dismay, “You should've been more mindful of your drinking. You're not someplace near home.”

“Should've been more mindful, too…” you hiccup. 

“Come again?”

“Should've been more mindful of confessing that badly to me.”

Oh dear. So you're finally talking about that. “I asked if you wanted to know how I feel, and you said yes.”

“You're a fucking bastard.”

A moment of silence before he finally admits, “Indeed, I am.”

“You'd rather die than try it out with me?” you scoff. “If I'm that unappealing to you, then you should've just—”

“You know that is not what I mean at all,” he sternly interjects. Much to your surprise, Erwin seems to be less tolerant of anyone talking down to you, including yourself if need be.

However, your inebriety has much greater concerns.

“Then what! What do you mean then?!”

One of them includes a scream as loud as that.

The crew looking at Erwin was enough of a signal; get that drunk lass out of here.

“Come on, let's get you air outside—”

“Is it because I'm a child in your eyes?! But I'm not!” your wailing proved otherwise, though. You sobbed so loud one might think Erwin just slapped you. “I've tried too hard to act beyond my age, just so you would see me beyond that! I'm willing to do more, even! And you'd ‘rather die’?! I can't even—” you huff a sob (embarrassingly so, but admittedly a needed one as well). The next words that come out of your mouth are beyond comprehension. 

How thankful the staff were when Erwin grabbed you by the waist and carried you like a sack of rice out of the venue.

Your shouts were short-lived when Erwin gently hoisted you down to the ground. At least you're quite far from the bar now. “Goodness, you've never been this drunk before,” he laments.

“That was the worst rejection I've ever received in my life.”

“It's okay, you're young and—”

“Another of that and I'll slap you!” you exclaim, silencing everyone on the road for a solid ten seconds, it is until Erwin starts laughing, boisterously so.

That laugh was so genuine and divine that it almost sobered you up.

The word is almost.

“What's funny?!”

Erwin is still wiping the tears from his eyes due to too much laughing when he replies, “Nothing. Sorry.” Only when he saw you puffed and about to cry did he finally retract, “Really. Nothing's funny. Don't mind me.”

You don't remember much of what happened afterward aside from walking, talking while walking, zigzag walking, holding his arm while walking, and throwing up on the sidewalk before walking again.

Slowly but surely, the tons of walking has been slowly sobering you up—just enough to comprehend the things you are saying to him again.

You talk about your desire to own things that you never had and how you wanted to walk on paths you had never crossed since childhood. You tell Erwin that had you pursued a degree in hard sciences, you'd wonder what it's like to push an art-related career instead. If you did otherwise, you’d wonder how good life would've been had your decision been different. 

Erwin replies that he knows it—all of it. 

“How? You have not been with me since childhood.”

“Only I would know more than anyone else here. Surely so.”

“I'm asking you why!”

“Because of all the tasks I had taken all my life—” A moment of silence before he continued, as hesitance etched quite loudly in his features. But you resolutely glare at him. And honestly, he's exhausted. You've made him, of all people, spent and exhausted just in a span of a night. “Out of all the tasks I had taken in my life, watching you shine was my most favorite.”

You stop in your tracks, befuddled. Suddenly the cold night is warm. And suddenly the alcohol isn't enough to spike your bravado.

"I know that despite shifting your playlist a generation behind, you still have a relatively newer song on repeat."

And just this usual, usual occurrence of you and Erwin not needing to expound because you already know each other too much for such pleasantries. You know the song he talks about too well. Thus, before you could blatantly gush at his very observant and poignant take, your drunk self immediately starts humming.

"I don't want your pity, concern or your scorn," you start with a humming glare, Erwin chuckles. "I'm calm by my lonesome, I feel right at home!" 

"Indeed you are."

"And when the wind blows, I get to dancing," then you sway your body into the cold night air. You almost stumble to the ground, but Erwin catches you just in time. You don't know if it was just your illusion, but he seems to be smiling and laughing a lot tonight.

If you're not for the alcohol, you'd already be utterly flustered. But you are, in fact, drunk beyond repair, even to the point of starting to sing right after he blurted out such a confession—"My fun is the rhythm of air, when it's prancing! I play with the moon, my only friend!"—and to continue singing even after he's hovering above you, holding your waist so you wouldn't stumble down the ground. "It pushes, it pulls me, I don't pay rent! Fuck! The rent here is so fucking expensive!"

He hums, then brings your body back to its usual standing position, quickly so, as if he owed his whole life to do that instead of doing something he'll regret. "It's much cheaper in our homeland. Told you."

"Fuck you!"

Erwin laughs again.

"No convincing tonight. God, why don't you let me rest from this shitty talk? This night's goal is to make the newcomers happy! To make me happy! And now you're ruining it!"

"Sorry, dear madam. Won't happen again."

Erwin holds onto both of your shoulders to guide you down the pavement, a tinge of grip present to prevent you from zigzagging again.

You nod, then hum the song: “I don't need your company to feel saved. I don't need the sunlight, my curtains don't draw. I don't need objects, to keep or to pawn. I don't want your pity, concern, or your scorn. I'm calm by my lonesome, I feel right at home. You repeat this interlude again and again, as if every line is a dialogue in itself, something to be said to the man guiding you down the pavement. You repeat it again and again until Erwin does the humming alongside your imploring croons.

"I can see now why you couldn't let go of that song despite your preference in generation."

"You see it now?"

He hums.

"Really?"

He nods again, then looks you in the eye. It's not as bright as earlier. If anything, there's a tinge of poignancy present in his hues.

"Then why are you still looking at me in pity?"

The sudden question surprised him. "I'm not…?"

"You are. You still think it's such a pity that I like someone like you, that I'm wasting my youthfulness in this shitshow."

Erwin stops.

“I like you, Erwin. I think I'll hold onto this feeling for the rest of my life.”

This time, you don't sound that drunk anymore. The only indicator Erwin could have was your fluttering eyes—one he couldn't stare at for too long due to the suddenness of your statement.

“I think I'll hold onto this feeling, but it's okay. I will be responsible for my feelings—” and you walk to him until you're inches apart. You point to his heart. Three times. “—the same way you'll be responsible for yours.”

And for the first time in his life, Erwin is too lost for words. He couldn't even pretend he still had the upper hand right this very moment.

“You love me and I love you. I want to be with you, but you don't want to be with me. But it's good. It's okay. It's alright! In fact, I'm glad we were able to clear things up!”

Your face is saying otherwise.

“And—I mean it when I say this so please—you must let go of your messianic complex and let me take charge of my own feelings as I should. Worry about yours. I don't care however you would. Your feelings only start being my business once you want to be with me. Understood?”

Erwin calls your name, seemingly wanting to negate your proposition. 

“Say you understand!”

But Erwin must know it by now, this tone of voice of yours isn't something you use when you want counterarguments. He could only smile and nod, “I understand.”

“Good,” you turn your back and start walking again, albeit swaying. “See you around, Erwin.”

Erwin knows you're not far from here, but he's also aware you're not capable of bringing yourself home without the possibility of falling into a manhole.

Moreover, there is a problem on his end…

“Then, may I—” he tries to stop himself, only to no avail. “Right now, I feel like doing something that would act upon my feelings but I'm worried it'll rattle you further.”

There.

There it goes.

“All this time, you’ve been acting upon your feelings for me without asking me—all for the sake of not rattling me. However, most of the time it just ends up frustrating me in every way possible.”

“Oh,” Erwin is only starting to see it now. “I apologize.”

“I'm not asking for apologies,” you flatly respond. When you turn to him again, your face looks like you've sobered up all at once. “What do you want to do, Erwin?”

“I want to usher you inside, have you drink something that’d lessen tomorrow's hangover, tuck you to your bed nicely, and ensure you're asleep before I leave.”

“That's all?”

“And more,” he chuckles defeatedly. Perhaps the fact that you're drunk is also giving him the needed bravado to be blunt. “But if I were to list the things I'm most desperate to do right now, I think what I said is enough.”

“Don't you think it would've helped us both if you started doing this years ago?” And now, Erwin could say your cries are genuinely in your character this time around, unlike your wailing earlier at the bar. “God, you're very unbearable. All this effort to be mature enough only for you to handle your feelings like a cowardly dick.” However, your language is still steered by the drinks you've had.

“Loving you made me fear a lot of things I never thought I'd fear before.”

“Have you ever feared hurting me, Erwin?”

“Still do. Always would.”

“And yet that's all you've ever done. Keep being ruled by fear and all you're gonna do is hurt me until the day I die.” When you turned your back to him again, he knew you could finally bring yourself home without his help. “Good night, Mr. Smith.”

<<< PREV CHAPTER

can't believe i took ALMOST two years before publishing the needed continuation when I've been wanting to write it so bad. my god. My God.

happy with how it turned out tho. sorry guys my erwin needs to be The Pathetic Old Man for a bit for the drama. he will reclaim his future in the epilogue (aka next chapter) :)

JOIN or LEAVE THE TAG LIST☆ @watyousayin @collinnmckinley (I LOVE YOU TY FOR WAITING) @aeanya @xiaotopia @cadenza-damour @grimistheangerinmystares @suntizme @rinamars @inkofteyvat @onasvigo @s0m4-sh4rk @xeiin-n @chxrry-writes

[issa-wasteland]

Lisa Frankenstein 🧟‍♂️💖

I truly love Lisa Frankenstein for many reasons. From Taffy actually making the effort to include Lisa in the their family and her social group despite being the popular cheerleader. We don't see that much in movies as it is refreshing to see that in a character who wants to be more than what social role she fits into and caring for her step-sister. As for the step-mom, Janet was the one who needed help and took every opportunity to blame Lisa for anything. She most definitely projected the "wanting attention" onto Lisa cause she brings it up almost every conversation as you can see she does her little theatrics in front of Dale and Dale gives her that attention and less for Lisa.

*I found it ironic how the creature was wearing a shirt that says "Violent Femmes" on it as they chuck out a worm in Janet's bowl then murdered Janet with a sewing machine, and stole her ear.

*Most of the boys and men in this movie suck and perverted. From Dale being a negligent father to Lisa but supportive of Taffy, Lisa's boss is a weird perv who commented on her "flat chest," Doug being the "Nice guy" who's downright terrible and could've SA'd Lisa, That bigot old man who started a fight with the creature, and Michael Trent who is a loser.

*The outfits in this movie was so fitting for the time that it takes place in. It doesn't feel forced (?) If that makes sense whenever a movie or tv show takes place in the 80s.

*I wonder if Lisa ever re-drew that lighting on her hand cause she has it on her hand throughout the movie. And, if Lisa continues to raid Taffy's closet for clothes then it's correct to assume she also lends Taffy's clothes to the creature?? The pj's Lisa wore were cute especially the cowboy one.

*Lisa gets on the creature for murder and how the car they were in is probably tracked yet hardly cover up the blood stain on the carpet?? Plus she's so aware of knowing the things they did is wrong but not entirely sorry for it.

*Her speech to Michael totally made sense cause I'm sure people knew a guy who is exactly what Lisa was talkin about and that does make them a loser.

*I love how the creature wasted no time to cut off some peen as they turned up the music, slashed, and collected what was needed before going on their merry way.

* Also the creature is most definitely trans and Lisa was very understanding to tell them that pretty much peen is not the only way to feel satisfied during sex 🏳️‍⚧️

*Cole sprouse really nails on showing the creature yearning for Lisa especially when they're back at the cemetery.

*Hand kisses 💋 💖💖👌 as the sex scene  surprisingly doesn't feel cringe or uncomfortable to watch like some intimate scenes in movies.

*Using a tanning bed as a way to bring life into the creature is an interesting concept as does a reverse and "kills" Lisa. Plus she just has bad luck with electricity, the girl gets shocked using the "back massager."

This movie was just overall fun to watch 💋

[lifenconcepts]

HEY! Want to help my research?

I won’t go too much into why I need this information but presuming you’re on tumblr I assume you’ll be happy to share - please answer some basic questions about your identity and existence! If you do, you’ll get a very big thanks from me :3 like a question game !!

Feel free to write it as detailed as you want but I deeply appreciate if you would be precise!

It goes as follows:

What sort of animal would you be and why?

What’s your stance on society/humanity? Have you ever had people bring you down, wether it be directly or indirectly?

We’re you ever ostracised as a child from communities or gatherings?

What’s your preferred way to spend some time to recharge, and when do you usually do it. (Bonus, does it actually leave you happy and content?)

Do you have trouble understanding your thoughts?

What are your core beliefs/principles to live by?

Do you consider yourself a good person?

How often do you think on mortality/the future and what it holds? Does it leave you scared or worried?

Are you currently content with your living situation.

Do you have a steady flow of finances / are you satisfied with how much you currently have and/or your job?

What’s your favourite food and why?

Would you like a pet? Any pet. Explain.

What’s your stance on anything sexual?

Do you find relationships necessary (personally to you)?

Have you ever thought that there may be some sort of other force or creature, wether it be something tangible or something divine, watching you? Does it leave you feeling uncomfortable?

Where do you feel safe?

Do you think other people are you the way you want to be seen? How do you want to be seen?

Have you come to terms with what you physically look and sound like? (Mirror, pictures, video, audio) Does it in any way comply with what you like?

What’s your preferable way to dress?

In a store, what aisle do you go to?

How would you respond to a crying child in your care?

How would you deal with a misbehaving dog in your care?

What differences are there, in your eyes, between human and animals?

If you could live in an isolated forest, far from any city, and surrounded by animals and nature but with no way to return - would you?

Would you be willing to transform into some sort of animal or creature, permenantly, and are there any preferences or worries you have regarding it?

Where would you like to live?

Do you yearn for something unobtainable?

Have you met the person you consider to be “the one”? This can be platonic (like a good friend), romantic, or anything else. Can even be an animal.

Do you hold any strange emotions or feelings or even memories that don’t seem to be yours? Do you know any place you could have seen it (online or real life) or why they may have formed?

How has being in school affected you?

How has work affected you? (if you don’t work, feel free to skip) mentally, physically, any way.

Do you have any hobbies and what do they mean to you?

Have you ever had some unexplainable pull to do something?

Are you supportive of people with different ideologies or opinions as you?

Do you think it’s possible to get every single person to have the same level of freedom and education and understanding?

What does the universe/world/‘god’ mean to you?

How often do you exist in nature and truly get a hold on it?

What things does existing invoke in you, how do you feel when consciousness, are there any primary functions that are more prominent than others? Do you have any specific thoughts about life? Do you feel aware of a certain taste your life has?

Do you believe in fate/destiny, do you have any experiences which prove that fate, and do you think it has good plans for you?

How do you respond to being hurt by another person? (Verbally or physically)

How do you deal with an accident?

Do you think there’s any ulterior purpose for us being alive, and do you have any idea of what you are meant to do? (Specifically you)

Have you had any paranormal experiences, and do you share them with others?

Do you believe yourself? What sort of personality would you say you have?

Did your parents treat you well?

What are your primary skills and how well do you know them?

Can you plan, and do you stick to those plans?

Do you dream in colour?

Do you think in images, words, audio, or energy? Or a mixture?

Do you remember dreams and how detailed are they?

What sort of activities do you and your family do together?

Do you have intuition/gut feeling and has it ever been scarily right?

What commonly known or said things do you hate or stand against?