#it's not overwhelming both for me and them

[madamechrissy]

Would you come with me?

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x F! reader

Summary: You have been Satoru's best friend for such a long time, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. What!?!? Well, Satoru has to take a wife as he's running the Gojo corporation, and what better way to get them off his back than 'marry'? In name only, just best friends living together for a year to calm them down, sounds so perfect and uncomplicated, right!!! Well, living with Satoru Gojo makes you both question everything, is this fake marriage feeling... real? and can you just be friends after this?

CW: NSFT-MDNI- So much mutual pining and longing, not sharing feelings. This chap- kissing, fingering, masturbation, lots of jealousyy, they're idiots in love lol, teasing, TENSION, oral (f recieving) Satoru is a lil sweetie and a lil freaky ass- falls hard, ya'll both down bad. Three parts- WC this Part- 7.6k

Songs for this - Birds of a Feather // Nonsense // Suffocate

Ty for all the love on part one!?!? I hope you all enjoy this part as well! We got one more after this <3 Comments and reblogs so appreciated always!

<<<Part One - Masterlist - Final Part (soon)

Part Two

One month of being ‘fake married’ to Satoru Gojo, your best friend.

“I’m nervous about this meeting, Satoru. Are you sure I’ll do alright?” You ask softly, as you both head to the elevator, a meeting that you know Satoru has been dreading himself, with the higher ups his dad usually deals with.

“You’ll do just fine, let me do the talking, you can just look all pretty.” He takes your hand as you all get into the elevator, squeezing it warmly, and you’re dying at how good that hand feels, and how good he feels, his strong arm brushing against you as you both watch the elevator doors shut.

“I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“You could never. You’ve been a perfect wife this month, I promise.” His sweet grin, just a little crooked melts you, as you exhale in relief. “I’m getting a lot done with this, I swear… I know you probably wanna get back to normal life.”

The hurt in his words immediately makes you pull back, and Satoru curses himself, taking your hand again, as you two ride up the floors, but you pull away, shaking your head. “Are you so eager for me to go?” Your voice is quiet, trying not to reveal what that makes you feel like fully.

“What!? No, not at all. I meant… if you wanted to.” Satoru’s heart breaks when he sees your dewy eyes. “I didn’t mean it that way, I meant it may not take a year, if you wanted to…”

“I’m glad it’s helping, really.” You give him a small little smile, and Satoru can barely concentrate on what he’s here for, when he wants to wrap you in his arms, to kiss you fully, not just pecks for appearances.

And god those kisses to prove you’re together make the lines blur, makes everything so confusing and jumbled for him. He’s having so much trouble remembering that it’s for show, when you all watch movies at night still, when you both have dinner together, when you’re washing dishes side by side. When you’re having coffee on his balcony in the morning.

The one thing that keeps it ‘fake’ is the separate rooms, but the amount of times Satoru has played with himself in the room next to yours has gotten insane, the number of showers he has to take so he hopes you won’t hear him. Lately, he’s backed off just a bit, for his own sanity, so it hurts less when this is over.

“Toru, wanna watch the show tonight?” You ask, wearing one of his big tee shirts, it swamps you completely, tempting him to no end, thinking of slipping it up just so…

Shit.

“Nah, sorry not tonight. I’ve got work to do.” He says, hating the little down turn of your lips.

“How late, I can wait!”

“Um… yeah I wouldn’t wait up.” You blink then, wondering have you gotten too comfortable with him? Have you been acting too much like a wife at home? You can’t help but enjoy him, enjoy your time together, are you overwhelming him with it all?

“Oh. Um, okay. Good night, then.” You smile sadly, aching to kiss him good night, knowing you shouldn’t want it, knowing you shouldn’t be desiring him right next to you, snuggling on that couch. God you’d love him in your bed even, holding you so close against him.

“Good night, sweets.” He murmurs, softly, not wanting you to think that you were the problem, no the problem is him.

He can’t stop picturing how every corner and nook in his huge home will be so very empty when you’re gone.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, not one thing, I swear you’re playing this perfectly. And I really appreciate you, yeah?” He says, but it’s not what you want to hear, because you’re not playing, not really, it’s just too fucking easy.

“Yeah, we got this.” You kiss his cheek softly, the friendly way you used to, as you all walk through the sliding doors where everyone is, all old men aside from a couple younger people scattered in seats in a row.

You tense, so he squeezes your hand, smiling at you, an upturn to pink lips as a room full of old money assesses you both, trying to reassure you. “Mr. and Mrs. Gojo, please have a seat.”

You nervously sit next to Satoru across from them now, your legs crossing as he casually leans back, one arm around the back of your seat, an ankle crossed over his knee, sunglasses right on his face. He’s so at ease, or so it seems, you are certainly learning more and more that Satoru tends to hide much of his anxiety with cracking jokes and sarcasm.

“Ah, the oldies, how goes it?”

“Ahem, oldies?” A blonde man raises a brow, and Satoru scoffs.

“You might as well be, Zenin. Old ass mentality.”

“Satoru, how is your father?” Asks an older man from another high company that works with the Gojos, Mr. Gakuganji.

“Ya really hoping he pulls through hmm? Even if so, he’s already appointed me, so don’t get too excited.” Satoru has an easy grin, fingertips brushing against your bare arm, leaning closer to you. “You’ve all met the wife?”

“Not all of us.” A pretty woman with long blue braids smiles at you. “Heard of her though, hello Mrs. Gojo. Mei Mei. Apparently so old.”

“Hello Mei Mei.” You greet with a small smile, looking at them all. “It’s going to be a pleasure to work with you all, I am sure.”

“Isn’t she just charming?” Mr. Naoya Zenin says, you feel Gojo’s fingers tighten in response.

“She is lovely.” Mei agrees, predatory smiles on both of their lips.

“Enough with the greetings, Gojo, you've made a lot of changes to this company in a quick manner.” Now Yaga, a tall imposing man that owns much of the shares of the company, speaks.

“Sure have, Yaga. Aw, mad you all got pay cuts? Poor things. Don’t worry, gave your extra to the employees.” Gojo says with a big white grin, earning the glares of everyone in the room.

“You’re not some Robin Hood.” An older man of the Kamo family says, raising a brow at Gojo, who chuckles.

“No, sure am not, I’m still rich and so are you all, just a little more evened out, wouldn’t you say, sweetheart?” He looks to you, tilting down his glasses, and you take a breath, putting a hand on his thigh, silently supporting him.

“Employees are going to work harder and stay longer with better pay and better conditions, and cutting just a bit off the top accomplishes that.” You say, voice strong and clear as a bell, making Satoru so proud he can’t stand it, smiling big at you as the room collectively grumbles.

“You’re not the only one with interest in this company. What does your father think of this?” One of the older men asks.

“It’s my company already, it’s about to be official soon. So don’t worry.” Satoru says with ease. “Also, my wife was talking.”

“Your wife is certainly… hmm, very pretty, but a commoner.” Naoya says, earning Gojo standing up, chair screeching back.

“The fuck you say!?”

“Satoru…” You lean forward, touching his arm, looking at his furious stance as the room shifts.

“How is she a commoner? You’d be lucky to lick the ground she fucking walks on ya know that?”

“She’s clearly not a commoner, but… she’s not “rich" is what he means. She has no concept of wealth.” Mei says, and Naoya stands now as well, glaring right over at Satoru.

 “She’s rich now, she’s my fucking wife.” The words feel so real from his infuriated voice that you can’t even separate it anymore, if this is some act you will just play right into it, even if it hurts. Him defending you is raw, you feel his fury next to him, trying to calm him and failing.

“It’s fine, baby.” You murmur, and hearing it, this little pet name from you? He immediately looks down, seeing your eyes wide with worry, he sighs now, sitting next to you, exhaling when you brush a hand up and down his back, then you look at the room. “I was not rich, no.”

“Your family was cut off for this sort of behavior. Is that what you want again, want for your children?” Mr. Gakuganji asks, a tired voice breaking through.

“I know better than anyone in this room what it’s like to live on a normal, even low income. Would you not welcome the insight, or are you so above caring about the people who line your pockets?” You demand softly, raising a brow, Satoru watches now as you proceed to wreck them.

He watches you debate them, raising each of them this point and that, and watches them all falter under a pretty little thing like you, usually soft spoken and sweet, but you have no problem decimating a room of them like it’s nothing. You smile so pretty at them all, bat your lashes and they land argument after argument, bouncing off what Gojo says.

Gojo is chuckling after about twenty minutes, as they seem to really think he couldn’t fuck them all if he felt like it. “What you’re forgetting, is I’m the highest up there is here.”

“Your father-”

“My father trusts me to take over. Plain and simple, are there going to be any problems? Millions not enough for you all, need golden toilets for your asses?” You barely hold in the snort of laughter, eyes bright as you watch him continue to disgruntle the room, until they finally let up.

Naoya walks up to you, eyeing you up and down as Satoru is talking to Yaga, who seems to be one of the more laid back of them all, his hands in his pockets, light brown eyes lit up. You tense at his gaze, feeling it like a slimy, disgusting touch, making you almost sick. You’re trembling as his eyes dissect you.

“Conveniently, he gets a bride the moment everyone pushes him.” He says with a nasty smirk, brushing a tendril of your hair back. “Don’t buy it.”

“Well, we’ve been in love forever, I assure you.” You say quietly, he hums to himself, when Mei walks over, and damn this woman just saunters, truly, hands on her curved hips.

“It’s so odd indeed, out of a list of so many eligible ladies. Was it true love, I wonder?” She taps her chin curiously, Satoru sees you then, coming by your side immediately, and arm around your waist.

Is he being a protective best friend or…

More.

Is this all just for show, as he pulls you to his side so possessively, making your pulse race, your body reacting as you look up at his face, and he’s scowling at the both of them. “Everything alright, sweets?”

“Yes, they were wishing us the best, weren’t you both?” You say, earning Naoya’s glare and Mei’s smirk.

“Indeed we were, we’ll see you at the auction I imagine?” Mei says, eyeing Satoru now.

“We’ll be there, of course. But for now, hmm…” He tilts your chin up, kissing you in a room full of people who want to hurt him, and hurt you, a protectiveness he’s always had for you becoming so intense it’s hard for him to function, he’d literally take down anyone and everyone that would dare say one thing to you even.

Your lips are sweet, so sweet, as you lean up and kiss him, wrapping an arm around his waist, and that same electricity sparks, even with all their seedy eyes on the two of you. He pulls back, looking at your lips, as you look into his eyes, already dilated and dark, when he clears his throat, smirking up at the shocked gazes.

“Are we all done here?” He asks, and then proceeds to take you out of that room, you finally catch a breath in the elevator, and Satoru grins at you, cupping your face with his big hands, bending down.

“Holy shit.” You murmur, earning his chuckle.

“You were amazing! How dumb am I telling you - look pretty and let me talk- shit I think it was the opposite?”

“No way…”

“Yes way. That was sexy.” He hums, you’re both giggling a bit, but you’re close, too close, and his thumb is brushing your lower lip, sending desire straight through to your tummy.

“I thought you were mad at me.” You whisper then, earning his smile turning down at the corners, his eyes a little distant and hazy.

“I could never be.”

The elevator doors open, the two of you walk out of the sliding glass doors of the enormous building, and you are trying not to touch the lips he just had, trying not to think of just how good they felt. The driver pulls up and you get into the car, Satoru slides in next to you, far too close, you inhale his cologne, you still taste him on your lips, like torture.

“I’m not mad at you.” He says again, you blink a bit, taking a breath, before looking up at him as the car drives onto the highway, gently moving underneath you both.

“You turned down movies for days. You won’t eat dinner with me. I get you’re busy, I really do, but I enjoy it, spending time. I’m… lonely without you? I know that sounds so silly, I’m sorry. Shit.” You cover your face, hating the pathetic words spilling from your lips. “You’re probably sick of all this time, even as a best friend.”

That’s not it.

God that’s not it.

It’s just when he’s next to you all he can think of is fucking you, or making you cum all over his mouth, his fingers. He can’t stand how good you smell, how good you feel, he melts over your pretty smiles and giggles, he can’t stand how deeply he is starting to feel. The three times you all have kissed for publicity it took everything in him not to drag you home.

How does he just shut it off, the ability to kiss you when he wants? And now you’re lonely, you’re hurting, not even able to look at him when he gently pulls down your hands by your wrists. “Look at me.” He murmurs softly.

You do then, and he sees it, tears swimming. “Sorry I’m too emotional.” You whisper then, embarrassed.

“No, I’m being an ass.”

You let out a little laugh. “No, Satoru just distant, and I didn’t know if I fucked something up, the day in your office?”

“No, no. Please, I swear it’s not that… I’ve been in my head.” He mutters, unable to express it truly.

“I get it, you have a lot going on. I want to be here for you.”

“You are.” He’s brushing your hair back softly, leaning down, resting his head against yours, it’s too intimate then, the words on the tip of your tongue, that you feel more than you should, but you try to swallow them. “You’re amazing, you made them all look so stupid.”

“No…”

“Yes. You surprised me, I never have seen you like that.”

“Sexy, you said hmm.” You tease, but he’s serious then, as your breaths mingle, and he’s leaning even closer, wreaking havoc on your every sense.

“God yes, you’re sexy like that.”

“Satoru… it’s too much.” You whisper, as his hand rests on your thigh, and he feels it, how hot you are, earning his eyes shutting, trying to not let it affect him and failing. “I haven’t… I’m really…”

“Been a while, sweetheart?”

“Oh fuck you.” You don’t move his hand when he slips it up higher, in fact your thighs spread just a bit, his little moan making more wetness start to drool from your aching pussy.

“I take up all your time, you can’t date, why not let me take care of you?” He acts as if he can handle anyone ever touching you, the thought alone makes him feral, want to fucking claim you as his own, to devour you senseless. He tries to be teasing, casual, watching your breath catch, your pupils dilate.

“Wh-what!?” Your lips part, and his desperate blue gaze is so intense it’s hard to look at.

“Let me make you cum, sweetheart, hmm? It’s the least I can do, I’m taking up all of you, I am sure it’s been a bit.” You gulp nervously. “You’re not a…”

“No, no, not a virgin Toru, just I didn’t like it.” You admit softly.

“At all?” He whispers, frowning just a bit, before he feels your inner thigh with his thumb, finding you hot and sticky, making you gasp. “Who sucked that bad?”

“You don’t know him. But I didn’t like getting…”

“Fingered?”

“That, not at all, um the times it happened were uncomfortable. So don’t try, it won't work.” Satoru laughs then softly, shaking his head.

“I’ve never had that problem. And I would never hurt you.” His words are serious then, you gulp nervously.

“I know you wouldn’t. But it’s intimate, and it’s not for show.” Your hand clutches his blazer now, thick material in your palm when he finally touches you over your panties, making you cry out at the contact, his cock throbs in response.

“Let me just take care of you, make you feel s’good, hmm? Don’t think too much about it, just feel.” He presses kisses down the side of your neck, your free hand wraps the back of his neck, brushing over his undercut, the soft hair under your fingers like silk, when he presses his fingers over your clothed clit. “You like that, pretty?”

“Y-yes.” You manage, his lips kiss and then suck at the base of your throat, when his finger slips under your panties, finding you bare, soaked, your cry is louder, when he finds your engorged little clit, feels you slippery against his long fingers.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He huffs, free hand slipping up the side of your breast while he rolls his finger in little circles, and your hips jerk, your head falling back. “She’s begging f’me to put one in.”

“You c-can try, but- ah!” Satoru sinks a long finger in you, pressing up, and you’re blinded when he finds your spot so effortlessly, leaning back to look down at your face, as it scrunches up in pleasure. “Ngh!”

“There it is, some loser couldn’t find it hmm? I’ve got you, don’t worry.” He’s pressing up again and again, the spongy spot in your gummy walls, gripping him so fucking tight. You hear it, the lewd sound of your squishing cunt, your eyes rolling back in your skull as he works you. “Let go, trust me.”

“It’s too much I… T-Toru…” You whisper his name, while moaning, your mouth open in this perfect O, it makes him leak precum, sticking to his boxers as your thighs spread for him, as you trust him, your eyes lidded. “More.”

“More?” He repeats, speechless for a moment as you’re leaning forward, your lips just a breath away.

“Please, it’s s’good Toru.” Your little plea destroys the last fighting brain cell he has, he’s slipping one more in you, making you pulse around the thick invasion, curling them up and sinking them inside you, to the knuckle, while you moan against his lips. “F-fuck… oh my god what…”

“That’s it, fuckin’ feel her, grippin’ me.” He’s fucking his fingers into you, wishing they were his cock, and you’re soaking his hand, your cunt drooling when he shoves them in deep, thumb pression on your clit, making you shatter. “There you go, sweetheart, that’s it, s’pretty like this.”

You’re cumming all over your best friend/fake husband’s talented fingers, nearly crying at how good the release feels, pulsing all around him, hands clinging to his jacket, hopelessly wrinkling the material, all while he watches you. Your mind goes blank, pleasure is the only thing you can focus on, as he eases his strokes, and you both are panting in the quiet car.

Satoru eases his fingers out, putting them to his lips and sucking now, moaning when he tastes you, and your mouth drops in shock. “T-Toru…”

“Fuck.” He’s kissing you then, your slick all over his lips as he presses your back against the seat, and your thighs shake, sensitive from cumming so hard, you can barely focus on anything but your throbbing pussy.

“Please.” You whisper again, as he yanks his cock out, right in the back of the car, and you reach down, stroking it, his eyes shut as he whimpers, Satoru Gojo whimpers, over you touching his pretty pink tip, swirling that precum.

“Wanna taste you first.” He huffs, kissing down your throat when the car comes to a halt, yanking at your dress, pressing hungry kisses on your breasts.

“What are we… Toru what’re we d-doing, fuck!” You’re whining out when he’s biting at your nipple over your bra, your hands yank on his hair, hips arching, feeling his length on your inner thigh.

“M’gonna-”

“Mr. Gojo, we’re here.” His driver infuriates him now, Satoru leans up, breaths heavy as he’s leaned over you, looking at your already fucked out eyes.

“We almost… we… y-you…” You are stuttering, suddenly so nervous, so overwhelmed. “Is this just you helping me out? Is it-”

“Mr. Gojo-”

“Ijichi, I’ll fucking kill you.” He mutters angrily, quieting his driver quickly, as he adjusts himself and then you, and you’re sitting up, blushing as he fixes your panties, fingers covered still in your slick. He sucks them again further making your tummy flutter, tighten, your heart pounding out of your chest. “God you taste yummy, the fuck, how does someone taste this good.”

“You tasted me? Twice!?” He smirks now, easing you to sit, tilting up your chin now.

“Not fully.”

“Fully!? Is this what friends do?”

“Well I sure don’t want you doing this with anyone else.” He glares now, jaw locking, making you gasp.

“What now?”

“No one else can do that to you.” His lips gently kiss yours, you taste yourself on them again, but you shove at him now, glaring.

“What do you even mean, no one else? You think you have some freakish claim on me now?”

“I know you came so hard you soaked my fucking backseats, hmm?” He whispers, you roll your eyes now, eagerly getting out of the car.

“You’re insane, Satoru.”

“You clearly like it.” You scoff, body shaking, legs literally wobbly, you try to ignore them as you stride up to the front of Satoru’s fancy doors, and walk in quickly, as he follows you with long strides, calling your name.

“That was fingering as a friend!?”

“No… it was…” He wants to say it then, you’re literally his fucking wife, even if it’s pretend, he can’t think of anything he wants more than you, to be inside you.

“Almost fucked me as a friend? Satoru, I can't do that.”

“I know, I didn’t… I just…” You’re turning away, if you look into those blue eyes too long you won’t be able to breathe, to exist, every inch of your body dying for more. “You loved it.”

You scowl as he smirks. “You’re a conceited little shit, just like when we met! Swear to god.”

“You’re still shaking.” He says, eyes raking over you, you gasp.

“You know what? Fuck you.”

“If you want to, say the word.” He murmurs, leaning against your doorway, and you roll your eyes.

“No way, I’m going to bed early. Good night.” You shut the door right in his face, sliding down it, head in your hands.

What the heck even was that.

Five weeks of being ‘fake married’ to your best friend, Satoru Gojo

Satoru and you were barely talking this entire week, you’re so furious with his cocky, conceited attitude, and the fact that he’s entirely right. Nothing felt that good, no one felt like just his fingers had, how he found you, how he looked at you. Now for the past week every night you’ve done the one thing you said you wouldn’t do.

Touch yourself to the memory.

You’re rolling your fingers on your clit, whining his name in a breathy whisper the morning of the charity auction, covering your mouth with your free hand as you realize that you’ve done it, that you’ve said his name, all while cumming all over your little fingers, which don’t even come close to his, lengthy and thick, the rough pads of his thumbs.

And you could fuck him, you know you could, but you also know what it will mean, there is no friends after that, kissing alone has made things impossible for you both. And Satoru is doing the most amazing things, you’re so proud of him already, and don’t ever want to lose him. But now he’s in your head, making you absolutely insane with want, with need, with desire.

Now you can’t even think of him without picturing his cheeks hollowing as he sucked your wetness off, picturing his head between your thighs, things you shouldn’t, and it’s like he knows. He smirks at you just so, lazy lidded eyes draping down your frame every morning, every night, making sure to constantly have a hand on you in public.

He was making you lose it, and he knew it.

Your stupid little fingers can’t do shit, in fact they frustrate you more, but it’d be a cold day in hell before you ask him for any help. In fact you realize the game he plays when he walks around in his boxers, when he does push ups in the middle of the living room with one arm, like he’s showing off, smirking when he catches you watching him, in your moments of weakness.

It would be so easy to fall into his bed, but to think of ruining your friendship terrified you, to think of the feelings you know would be unleashed like some fucking flood gate was too much. You never have been able to be casual, you’re not even interested in someone without feelings, and you’re slowly realizing that those feelings when you were younger never went away.

They’re just more intense now, living with him, with this unspoken tension in the air, every breath you take you can practically taste him, every time you watch his fingers slipping around the rim of his cup you remember them in you. As you see the clear bulge in his boxers you remember touching him, remember wanting to taste that precum on his tip.

The worst part is he looks so knowingly at you, so sure you’d probably beg for him, you’re sure many, many women do. But despite knowing Satoru to be a bit of a ladies man, you’ve not seen a single one here since you’ve lived here, not seen him go on a single date. You’re not sure if you could handle it, despite acting so very nonchalant about it.

But you have no claim over him, this was just convenience, every bit of the arrangement. Your new car, no more debt, helping Satoru do what he needed to, you all are a perfect team even with the added tension of your pussy constantly throbbing around said best friend. Surely it wasn’t worth ruining, complicating, just to feel that pleasure he brings.

As you’re putting the finishing touches on your makeup, you nervously step out of the room, into Gojo’s spacious foyer, where he’s turned around, a dark blue suit adorning his body like a glove. He hears your heels click on the marble floor below and turns, his lips parting as he studies you.

The red dress hugs every line and curve of your pretty body, the bold shade making your skin pop so pretty, it looks so smooth he aches to caress you, every bit of you. You are biting your lower lip nervously, looking up at him from across the room as you stand there, looking so beautiful his pulse races.

This week has been torture for Satoru, he wants to tell you then, that he feels so much more than he even knows how to convey, that it wasn’t just ‘getting a friend off’ it was such a joke, he can’t even understand how you believe that. He can’t get the sweetness of your pussy off his goddamn mind, he’d do just about anything to taste it again.

He’s even eyed your panties in the hamper. He's so pathetic and desperate for you, but he’s tried to keep some semblance of composure, to act unbothered, so scared to ruin your relationship. He knows how much you sacrificed just coming here, sure he’s helping you, but you uprooted everything, you acted perfect at every function, you stood up for him at every meeting.

You are the perfect wife.

Pretend wife.

Pretend, pretend, pretend.

He keeps repeating it like a mantra in his head, brushing off the moment in the back of the car as maybe you just needed to cum, maybe it was just that for you, but something about how your eyes met his, has him desperately pumping his cock, hearing your soft whimpers at night. He knows you’re touching yourself, he wishes he could see it, watch it, take over.

Instead he’s stuck endlessly jerking it to his best friend/fake wife, ignoring any girl that even texts him because they just aren’t you. They could care less he’s ‘married’ everyone just wants a piece of him, everyone but you. You just are there for him, with him, by his side, you’d have done this for nothing in return. You’re becoming everything to him so fast it’s terrifying.

The magnification of feelings he’s had for you over so many years is overwhelming, being near you, smelling your sweet scent, hearing you hum as you cook with your earbuds in, your nervous habits. How you twirl your hair, how you tilt your head, how you tremble just a bit when he holds you for the cameras, how you sigh sweetly as he kisses you for show.

You can’t fake that, he knows you’re affected too.

But he doesn’t know if it’s what he feels for you.

He’s stammering like a teenager at prom, but prom pales in comparison to seeing you now, how the diamonds glitter off your neck and delicate wrists, how he can picture fucking you with just that on. Your cheeks are decorated with that pretty color as you handle his wordless scrutiny, teeth releasing your lip when he comes closer, he brushes a thumb across the indentations left.

You gasp, eyes shooting up to his, as the electric current of his touch rocks through you. “You always bite it, stop. Gonna hurt it.” He says, voice husky, eyes hungry as he looms over you in the quiet, elegant room.

“Do I always?” You whisper, and he nods, brushing his thumb over it again, as if to soothe it.

“Mmhmm, gonna cut up such pretty lips.” His voice drops another octave as one of your hand grips his wrist, and you ache for him to kiss you, to press you against one of these cream colored walls and pound into you.

Stop that!?

You clear your throat, taking a breath and then plastering on a little smile. “You look handsome tonight, blue is your color.”

“Red is yours, clearly.” He brushes a bit of hair back off your bare shoulders, two fingers gently running down the strap, watching the network of goosebumps spread, your heart is racing at the contact. Your urge to yank him by his skinny black tie and slam his lips to yours tempts you to no end.

“Thank you for this dress, and the jewelry. Stop getting me more.” Your little glare just makes him grin.

“At the auction you can get whatever you want, so you know.”

“No way, it’ll all be overpriced.”

“It’s charity, baby. Hmm, should we practice kissing more?” He asks, and you smack his hand away, glaring as he chuckles.

“We’ve had lots of practice, let’s go.”

You all are arm in arm as the cameras flash so brightly later that night when you both step out of the car, so much so they hurt your head, but you hold onto Gojo’s arm, as he guides you through, grinning and answering every question effortlessly. “Why the shades at night, Mr. Gojo?”

“Your bright ass cameras hurt my pretty baby blues.” He teases with a pout, earning the laughter there.

“And what’s this talk of major changes in the Gojo corporation?” Another reporter asks, Satoru chuckles then.

“Ah, well these old geezers needed some revamping is all. Right, pookie?” He asks you, and you smile up at him, then at the cameras.

“Satoru knows what’s best for the company and his employees, his changes are going to only make everyone more profitable.” Satoru watches you answer their questions left and right, enamored more and more by you.

“Are you trying for a baby, Mrs. Gojo?” Someone asks then, and you heat up at the question, at the image that flashes in your head.

Gojo breeding you.

So vivid you feel like you’re there, him murmuring a ‘let me fill you, sweetheart, have you so full of my babies’ and pumping over you. You almost faint it’s so real, and you have no clue what has come over you. You don’t think like that!? You’ve never done shit like that… you…

“We’re enjoying each other a lot right now, but it’ll happen I’m sure, when we’re ready. We’re a little consumed with each other.” Satoru answers now, breaking through the pounding of your heart in your ears, you look up at him, lips parted, as he completely saves you, you’ve frozen on the spot. “Right sweetheart?”

“Right.” You clear your throat, shaking your head then. “We are very much in love, and enjoying our alone time, but we’d both love a baby.” You say, and you hate how real it is.

He hates how he can picture you now, full mating press, as he fucks one load of cum into your pussy, and then another, watching it all pool out. Fuck he’d watch your tummy get so full of him. The thoughts of getting you pregnant make him feral then, he can hardly stand there as he just stares at you, and you at him.

You don’t get your best friend/fake wife pregnant.

Do you?

The auction continues, fancy and expensive items for filthy rich people, Gojo detests it more than even you do, though you’d never know with how he plays the room. You see Mei and Naoya again, laughing about something in this creepy way that makes you shiver. When Gojo is mingling while you're having a seat, you see a pretty brunette girl talking to him closely.

Why does it make you feel so sick to see him, you don’t know. You’ve watched him date, and he’s watched you, but something about living with him, about this enormous glinting rock on your finger really messes with you. His grin glinting under glittering chandeliers of this enormous auction room, another woman coming up, surely he runs in their circles.

You try not to focus on that, it’s not as if you have given Gojo a hint that you want more, and do you? Do you want to cross that line? If something doesn’t work, it’s not a fight between friends, it’s the end of everything, and isn’t having Gojo with you somewhat better than not at all?

“You look like you hate this, huh doll?” You hear then, looking up to see a dark haired man, grinning down at you, he’s handsome in a rugged way, not pretty like Satoru, but something appealing. A scar on his lip as he chuckles, gesturing around you both. “Bunch of rich assholes, huh?”

“Shh!” You giggle though, looking around, nodding.

“Knew it.”

“So what’re you doing here?” You ask quietly, he grimaces, running a hand through inky locks.

“Got a fuckin job to do, what about you?” You gesture to Satoru then, who’s glaring right at you both.

“I’m married to Gojo.”

“Ah shit, I’m too late.” You blush a bit at the attention, Satoru has a girl who’s far too close, whispering in his ear, her hand on his shoulder, making you sick.

“Hmm.” Is all you manage, looking back up at the man. “What is your name?”

“Toji Zenin. Yeah, I know, the name… but fuck them.”

“You are different.” You murmur softly, tilting your head to the side, he brushes his fingers then across your thigh subtly, your jaw clenches a bit.

“If I was with you I sure wouldn’t be over there with snobby bitches.” He says, and you don’t like it then, the jealousy in your heart as Gojo walks up suddenly, clearing his throat.

“Zenin.” He mutters, and he grins up at Gojo.

“Talking to your wife, Gojo, keeping her company y’know? Shouldn’t leave such a pretty thing so lonely.”

“You’re. In. My. Seat.” Satoru mutters, teeth clenched together, and Toji laughs with ease, taking your hand, planting a kiss on the back of it with a wink.

“See ya around, doll.” He says, patting Gojo on the shoulder, and Satoru wants to rip his fucking arm off then, as he glares down at you, sitting in the seat, but you cross your arms, looking away.

“Did he touch you?” He demands quietly, you frown then.

“He was nice, I mean he-”

“Nice!? Looked like he wanted to eat you.”

“What do you care, looks like they were all over you. Oh look, they miss you, go say hi.” You say, as three girls giggle and point over at Satoru, his blue eyes narrow, leaning over you then, cupping your face with his hand.

“Think I wanted to be bombarded by flirty ass drunk women?”

“I don’t know!”

“Do you care if I do?”

“No! What do you care about me then?” You demand, whispering amongst the loud crowd of auctioneers, as they start lining pieces up for sale.

“Because he… you…” Satoru trails off, mouth opening and closing. “You are my wife right now, you know.”

“Fake wife.” You correct, seeing a vein throb in his temple.

“It doesn’t matter, how does it look when-”

“That’s what you care about, appearances? Don’t worry, I won’t ruin your precious appearance any.” You whisper, as the crowd settles, and a brilliant sapphire necklace is now on display.

“You act like you don’t care at all, I saw you.”

“So what!?”

“So why don’t you just tell me how -”

“Ten thousand, do I hear…”

“Shh.” You scowl at him, as he scowls back at you. “Maybe you should go sit with your girlfriends.”

He laughs softly, without humor. “You’re jealous.”

“Nope, you’ve always been that way. What’s surprising is not having seen a girl at the house.”

“You think I want-”

“Twenty Thousand, going once, going…”

“Want someone more your speed? Sure, I know this is just convenience, I'm not stupid.” You say, he scowls even deeper, his hand suddenly on your thigh in the darkened room, making your heart pound as it squeezes bruisingly.

“I’ll not have anyone touch you.” His words make no sense, they don’t even compute in your brain then.

“What do you care, hmm? If I did. If I was discrete. Remember?” You ask, bitingly and full of shit, and you watch the hurt in his eyes, hating yourself for a moment before his eyes turn insane, dilating until they’re almost black.

“You wanna fuck him, huh?” He demands, you scoff, shaking your head.

“You’re stupid, Satoru.”

“Me stupid!?”

“If you think that I want anyone but…” You pause then, gulping as people are starting to look, hearing your hushed arguments then, and you stand angrily, stomping off until you hit the bathroom, splashing water on your neck, trying to pull yourself together.

You almost said it.

You’ll never want anyone but Satoru, your best friend, and you never have, fuck you probably never will, and it’s terrifying you. When the door shuts and he’s there, chest heaving, you turn away, tears pricking your eyes. “Just go away, fuck it’s the ladies room.”

“You’re mad at me for talking to women at an event?”

“You’re mad at me for talking to someone at an event?”

Yes, fuck yes he’s furious that man got near you.

That maybe you’d want someone else, more than him.

He steps closer, hands on your shoulders now. ““You gonna be mad when I fuck someone in my room, huh?”

You freeze, turning and glaring up at him then. “I hear you jerk off every night, so what’s the difference?”

Satoru looms even closer, you feel his breath hit your lips, making your tummy clench at the thoughts of him. “And I hear you moan as you play with your little clit, ya frustrated your tiny fingers don’t hit?”

“Oh fuck you!” You turn now, shoving at him, chest heaving, but he pulls you to him, pressing you against the bathroom counter, glittering and ridiculously opulent, hands shaking when they’re on your waist.

“You should just ask for help, sounds like you can’t cum.” Satoru whispers, earning a smack on the face that makes him smirk.

“Maybe you should ask me, how many times do you need to jerk off a night, huh Toru?” Satoru’s laughing then, insanity, his cheek decorated with red from your little hand print.

“At least I make myself cum.”

“Fuck you, I’m over this. I’ll take the opposite side of the house, won’t have to hear your moans.”

“Good, won’t hear your pathetic whimpers.”

“Good!”

“Good!” You both stand there, him bent over, barring you with his arms. “Admit it, you’re jealous.”

“Nope, just annoyed with you. Over you, Mr. never has on a fucking shirt!”

“Good, I’m done, Miss walks around in slutty panties!”

“Ugh!” You shove at him again, until he’s slamming his lips on yours, and then you’re lifted like you’re nothing, when his tongue slips in your mouth, and you’re clinging to him eagerly, as he sits you on the sink, hungrily shoving up your red dress. “You’re gonna rip it, shit!”

“I’ll buy you twenty more, just shut up.” You go to retort when he’s kissing you again, deeper now, and you’re crying out right in a bathroom, knowing anyone could walk in, only serving to make your cunt dripping wet, when he finds it he moans, pulling back and staring at you. “Why are you so beautiful?”

You can’t speak then, you’re lost in him, in his blue eyes and his pink lips, in his big hands all over you, his whispering words crushing any resolve you try to have. You lose all reason then, as your head falls back as he kisses up your throat, and you’re gushing down his fingers, remembering their shape and feel as they tease your entrance.

“Please, Satoru…”

“Why are you so sweet now, huh? Where’s your attitude?” He murmurs, but you’re arching up, whining as he stares at you so hungry. “Should fuck that attitude out of you.”

“Please…” You whisper again, when Satoru bends down, his head between your thighs, and stares right at your glittering pussy.

“Oh my god, she’s s’fuckin pretty…” He murmurs then, licking a stripe up your slit that has you crying out into your hand, thighs shaking as he groans at finally being able to taste you. “S’yummy mmm…”

“Toru…what’re you-ah!” You’re covering your mouth again as he laps at your cunt, his nose bumping your sensitive clit, and you’re dripping down his face, hand finding purchase in his silken white hair, gripping it.

“Gonna lick this attitude out of you.” He whispers, as your sweet nectar pours down his mouth, his hands spreading your plump lips, fucking you with his tongue then, your head smacks the wall, nearly sobbing it feels so good. “No one’s licked it, have they, baby?” You shake your head. “Good, s’all mine, huh?”

“All… y-you… Toru what are- mnh!” He’s yanking you to him by your hips, devouring you now, unlike anything you’ve ever felt, having you close so fast it’s embarrassing, tongue dancing and delving between your folds, drinking you up loud and wanton in this bathroom.

“F-fuck….” He’s achingly hard now, cock throbbing, tip of his tongue circling your little clit as he spreads you wide, looking at your perfect pretty pussy.

“You’re just… looking at it…” You manage to whisper, and he’s chuckling now, leaning over you, sinking two fingers inside, making your eyes roll back, so sensitive you’re about to cum right then and there. “Imagining it dripping out cum, sweetheart, that’s all.”

Your brain short circuits. “With cum!?”

“Mmm.” He’s not using words anymore, not when he’s picking you up, planting your heeled feet back on the bathroom floor, turning you to face the mirror. He’s lifting that dress up higher and bending down, pressing against you, finally he’s lost it, so drunk off your pussy, he can’t take it anymore.

“Satoru, you’re insane, what are you…”His cock springs out, heavy and aching with need, as he bends you over, one hand on his cock, the other, wrapping your pretty little throat, as your eyes catch his in the mirror, glassy and dilated.

“Next time he or anyone talks to you, it’ll be with my cum dripping out of your pretty little pussy.”

Hehe last part coming soon, don't worrry <3 (I'm mean and leave ya'll on cliffhangers I KNOW)

Taglist: @plaggi @baepsays @victoria1676 @flwerie @luringfantasy @moncher-ire @allonyyourmom @kindablackenedsuperhero @evelynxxo @jkslaugh97 @sugurusfavemonkey @ninikrumbs @s4ikooo1 @bunheadusa @twinkling-moonlillie @chameleonsoul111 @nina-from-317 @naammiii @whippedbyikemen @alygator77 @uarmyhopeworldwide @1satoruu @theclassbookworm @jud3thedude @isleqt @mcromer2999-blog @silvarys @orikixx @jiejies-corner-store @assbutt-inlove-with-koreans @lordbugs @ari-sa @blue-musingss @minaa-06 @uhnosav @cvixmei @seeiin @indiewritesxoxo @loafteaw @moonlitwitchdaisy @beachaddict48 @miizuzu @honeybunnnnie @gojosukuna2268 @4acoffee @whoreapika @arabellasolstice

Rest in the reblog <3

[maidenvault]

Wow this is getting a lot of notes. And thinking about a lot of the comments/tags, I would add that I think this is one way it gets messy that fandom is a space for both media analysis and transformative works even though those two things don’t always co-exist comfortably or necessarily serve each other.

The overwhelming trend of fanfic as an art form is taking stories from any genre and basically flattening them into familiar conventions of romance with a pairing you like at the center, because you usually don’t get the explicit sex or total focus on romance in canon and it’s fun and interesting. Obviously that doesn’t describe all fanfic, or even all fics centered on ships, but it’s been a big part of fanfic culture for the many decades it’s been around. And obviously approaching the source material that way, or even just half-consciously always wearing your slash goggles, is not necessarily congruent with doing sound analysis of its themes and characterization.

At some point fandom got a higher opinion of itself as being important because fanfic serves an under-served audience, because you can find basically any kind of representation you want in fanfiction by just filtering by a tag. But then when people’s problematic biases show and fandom so often isn’t this super progressive space it pretends to be, fans have the excuse that this isn’t serious, it’s just porn, I write what is hot to me and I’m not gonna write a ship I don’t feel drawn to that way, what do you want?

And generally, in theory, that’s totally fair. If you’re truly just here to have fun with your kinky readerfic and don’t care whether your way of writing a character is supported by any evidence in canon, whatever. But it’s also often a conversation stopper, and fandom (at least on places like tumblr) is also a space for discussing the meaning of things in the source material. I don’t know if I have a main point here or an answer. But it’s a dissonance I wish fan communities were more aware of.

With David Lynch having just passed, this feels like a good time to share this classic piece on Mulholland Drive for anyone who hasn’t read this analysis. Lynch was famously reluctant to explain the meaning of his more surreal films, which obviously lend themselves to wildly different interpretations, which makes this movie a great example for Film Crit Hulk to explain in this what is actually needed to build a strong argument for your take on a subjective work of art.

Not “Only my reading of canon is correct” or “Interpretations are subjective and all valid” but a secret third thing, “More than one interpretation can be valid but there’s a reason your English teacher had you cite quotes and examples in your papers, you have to have a strong argument that your interpretation is actually supported by the text or it is just wrong and I’m fine with telling you it’s wrong, actually.”

[wonderjanga]

Why’re You Friends With All These Psychopaths?!

Marvel is friends with a bunch of, well, to be quite honest, crazy, weird, or strange people.

Vicky Vale: “This just in, we have reports of Captain Marvel eating tacos with Man-Bat on the roof of Wayne Enterprises.”

Marvel and Man-Bat: *lowkey chilling*

Man-Bat: *getting a little jumpy every now and then when it hears more people coming*

Marvel: *patting it’s chrome dome to calm it down*

Later…

Batman: *appears out of nowhere* “Captain. What are you doing with, Langstrom?”

Marvel: “Langstrom? That’s his name?” *still patting Kirk’s head so he doesn’t fly off*

Batman: “Yes-” *does double take* “Are those blood bags?” *points to some nearby blood bags next to the two*

Marvel: “Huh? Oh yeah, they are.”

Batman: “…why do you have blood bags? More importantly, how did you get them?”

Marvel: “The vampires in Fawcett, just buy it from stores so I got some from there. And I brought it because I thought my friend here wouldn’t eat the tacos without it.”

*silence*

Batman: “Right… so let me just…” *walks over and injects Kirk with the serum*

Man-Bat: *changes back to his shriveled little old man form*

Marvel: “He’s a human?!”

After that, Bruce took Man-Bat back to the Asylum. Now, whenever Kirk would transform back into a bat he’d fly over to Fawcett so he could hang out with Marvel and every single time without fail, Bruce has to go over there and bring him back to Arkham.

or

Some Time When Jason was with the LoA…

Ra’s Al Ghul and Marvel: *sipping tea together*

Jason Todd: “Ra’s- Captain Marvel?”

Marvel: “Huh?” *stares for a solid second* “Robin #2?”

*silence*

Marvel: “It really is you! Come sit with us!” *pats the table and magics a chair and another teacup*

Jason Todd: *slowly walks over and sits down* “How do you both know each other?”

Marvel: “Well, I was investigating the Lazarus pits and we met each other. From there, we just clicked!”

Jason Todd: *looks to Talia*

Talia Al Ghul: *shrugs and pours Jason some tea before refilling her own cup*

Talia is just glad her father has someone to talk with that’s actually a decent human being and isn’t in the league.

or

Guy Gardner: *burst through saloon doors* “You’re all under arrest- Cap?!”

Marvel: *waving* “Hey, Guy!”

Alien Terrorist Group: *all see Cap wave so they think the Guy’s good* “Hey, Guy!” *also wave*

*silence*

Guy Gardner: “Cap, can we talk outside for a second?”

Marvel: “Sure!”

Outside…

Marvel: “So what’d you wanna talk about?”

Guy Gardner: “Dude…” *floats so he can put a hand on Marvel’s shoulder* “Why the FUCK ARE YOU HANGING OUT WITH TERRORISTS??”

Marvel: *confused* “Terrorists? Who are the terrorists??”

Guy Gardner: “Wha- THOSE ASSHOLES!”*points to the alien saloon*

As for how Marvel befriended all of these people/creatures. It’s his overwhelming niceness.

[xoxxbilliexoxx]

let go, for me

“You felt like you were made of stars, like the universe was inside of you and each time you felt Billies delicate touch a new galaxy was created.”

***********************************************************

You and Billie rushed through her bedroom door as clothes flew all around you. It was intense and fiery, just like the movies, as you both stripped eachother down till your hands were on bare skin.

You had met just hours prior at an event you were hired to take pictures for. You recognized her from across the room, in her baggy black jeans and a shockingly tight light blue baby tee with her long black shiny hair pin straight and kept out of her face with a black bandana. You tried to continue doing your job and minding your business but you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her. It’s Billie Eilish for fucks sake. your favorite artist and biggest crush of all time.

Just being in her presence was overwhelming enough but when you saw her crisp blue eyes land on yours, lined boldly with black eyeliner only making them pop more, you felt your heart stop. When you noticed she was walking directly towards you with a slightly playful smirk, you felt your air stiffen in your lungs. When you heard her sweet sexy voice say hello you felt your brain fill with a buzz.

Somehow though you managed to keep your cool, staying in a sweet conversation with her for quite a while before getting confident enough to send her obviously flirtatious energy right back at her. Soon enough the heat between you two was palpable and as if in a dream, she was inviting you back to her place when the event was over.

Now here you were, pinned under her in her bed, trying to ground yourself enough to convince yourself this was real. You’ve imagined this before, even read smut about her a few times if you were gunna be honest, but never did you think you’d be feeling her real hands drag across your stomach.

when her lips pulled yours in again you whined at the hunger she was showing you. Her lips moved between yours fast, and her hands grabbed all around your body even faster. You pulled away to look at her, still not able to fully believe this was real. Her big boobs spilled out of a lace black bra and her dragon tattoo hid under a matching thong. Your eyes drank her in as much as you could. you knew you were gunna think about this moment till the day you died.

But you couldn’t manage to keep your eyes open when her lips attached to the sensitive skin on the side of your neck. You couldn’t manage to keep your sweet cries in when her fingers attached to your clit. You couldn’t manage to keep your thoughts in order when she was kissing down your body.

But even with THE Billie Eilish your mind began to ruin the moment like it does with every girl you hook up with. The way she was devouring your sensitive pussy was insanely hot and the pleasure it was causing was almost overwhelming. But your mind, it wouldn’t shut up. wouldn’t stop thinking about how you weren’t gunna be able to cum and how Billie wouldn’t wanna be doing this forever. how you needed to hurry up so you didn’t make her eat you out for too long. How you bet ever other girl she fucks can probably cum so quick and how hot she must think that is. So, within a matter of minutes you were sitting up and pulling Billie away from you. With a confused look Billie questioned you, whiping your slick honey off her chin and sitting down next to you.

“I’m not gunna cum Billie it’s okay, let me make you feel good” Her eyes found yours as you looked back up at her, feigning a smile even though you felt extremely insecure. “Was I not good baby? Was I not making you feel good?” Her questions weren’t laced with insecurity about her skill but more so with genuine curiosity and desire to do better, wanting to get you there. You looked down at your hands in your lap, completely embarrassed about this moment you were in. Angry that you just ruined the once chance you were gunna have to fuck Billie. “No it’s not that, you were making me feel really good, trust me” you smiled when you looked up at her but immediately looked back down when the eye contact got too intense.

“So why’d you stop then? are you okay?” The moment felt so intimate, she made you feel so safe and cared for. It was not something you were used to feeling. “I just can never cum, it takes me too long so I just stop and make the other person feel good instead. It’s not a big deal, lemme make you feel good Billie” She shook her head and continued asking you questions, wanting to know why you thought you could never cum, what you were thinking about when you would decide to stop someone, if you could cum on my own. The questions never ended. But it never felt awkward or too personal, it felt like she was genuinely interested in figuring this out.

“Y/n, baby,” her nickname sent a shiver down your spine as she continued talking. “It sounds like you’re just really in your head about what the other person is thinking and you’re trying to rush yourself to finish cuz you think that’s what they’ll want. Does that sound right?” you nodded your head, somewhat stunned that you never even realized that’s what you were doing. “I mean yea, I feel bad that it takes me so long and I know at a certain point they definitely don’t wanna keep going, so I just stop them early so they don’t have to be the one to stop. I just don’t want it to be awkward ya know?” your voice was quiet at the admission.

“Mmmm I mean I hear you, but you gotta stop stressing about the other person so much. Trust me when I say I could go down on a girl for literally hours, and most of the time I’m sad when it does end” She laughed out her sentence before placing her index finger under your chin and pulling you up to find her eyes. “Do you think you can trust me Y/N?” you swallow at the intimacy, finding it so sweet that she was so determined to make you feel good.

It would have been so easy for her to let you go down on her and finish the night, but that wasn’t good enough for her. ‘Of course fucking Billie Eilish would care so much about her partners pleasure, even on a random hookup’ you thought to yourself.

Billie was thrilled she got to help you, got to make sure she was making you feel good when no one else cared enough to figure this out. She loved passion, she loved sensuality and erotic touch, she loved pleasure. She loved the world it leaves people in, the way the whole experience is like nothing else we do in this world. So, she knew that she wanted to pull you deeper into that world than anyone else had.

As she guided you to lay back down she put pillows behind your head and told you to get as comfortable as you could be. You took a deep breath, saying you were overwhelmed by the entire situation was quite an understatement, and all you could think about was the impossible demand to NOT let yourself catch any type of feelings for her. But you knew that couldn’t happen, cuz you already had feelings for her- you have for all the years you’ve been her fan.

So, naturally, those feelings were all you could think about as she began tracing her finger over your body. It was slow, starting at the base of your neck and traveling across all of you. Her fingertips hoovered so lightly over you that her skin continued to connect and disconnect, each time pulling a soft breath from your lips. Your eyes were closed, only making you all the more sensitive to each of her touches.

Billie sat on her feet by your side, continuing to trace small patterns on your lower stomach and admiring the way you reacted with a soft smile and blushed cheeks. Your breathing was uneven as she pulled you deeper and deeper into a world of nothing but pleasurable touch, of erotic sensations no matter where her contact landed. Her fingers made their way to your chest, drawing small circles around your hard nipples. The action pulled a small whimper from you, coming out with your deep breath. You felt like you were floating, like her touch was the only thing that existed, like there was no other world going on around you. Your worries were beginning to disappear, you weren’t able to think about anything else but the way your nerves lit up under the soft pads of her fingers.

Your eyes stayed closed, you knew it was only making the feeling of her touch more powerful. When Billie leaned down and planted a soft kiss on your collarbone, your gasp was sudden and strong. She laughed to herself, loving the way your perfect naked body became her new medium under her. With her hands planted on the bed next to you, she continued connecting her lips on your skin, scattering them around her canvas, catching you off guard and leaving you gasping each time you felt her land on you. She pushed her warm soft lips to your collarbone, then to your hip, back up to the skin just below your earlobe, then right under your boob, back to the other collarbone. Over and over again she decorated you with gentle kisses, and each time you whimpered and sucked in a tight breath under her.

You were completely hypnotized. Nothing else mattered but the way your sensory receptors lit up all throughout your body. You felt like you were made of stars, like the universe was inside of you and each time you felt her delicate touch a new galaxy was created. She had you exactly where she wanted you, so engulfed by the eroticism of the moment that you weren’t able to stress. So relaxed that you didn’t care to worry about anything else.

Her teeth pulled at your earlobe, causing a shock wave to run down your spine and into the very tips of your toes. The way she whispered out her words in a breath pulled your back off the mattress. “That’s it mama, you’re doing such a good job relaxing for me” She kissed your neck with an open mouth before moving over to your other ear, biting it then whispering just like before. “Need you to keep focusing on my touch Every time your mind begins to worry, need you to let my tongue, my fingers, my teeth, consume your thoughts. Doing so good for me” With each mention of her body she acted out her words- licking your neck after saying tongue, tracing her fingertips against your lower stomach after mentioning her fingers, and biting down on your sensitive nipple after talking about her teeth.

Your back continued arching off the bed, each breath in was a gasp and each breath out, a whimper. The throbbing between your legs was almost painful with the lack of touch where you wanted it most. Her praise and such clear desire to keep you relaxed sent you spiraling, you’d never felt your body so engulfed by pleasure. When you tried to open your eyes she shook her head, “need you to keep em closed for me baby” but once her words came out she corrected them, “As long as you're comfortable I want your eyes to stay closed” You sighed at the way she cared so much about what you wanted, you felt in control of the moment even as her touch consumed you so powerfully.

Your eyes softly closed again and she resumed her intoxicating junction of her skin on yours. As her fingers grazed against your boobs she repositioned herself to lay between your thighs. You hadn’t noticed, you were too focused on the way her fingerprints gilded against the goosebumps forming on your soft skin. She continued toying with you, more aggressively though. The sudden pinch of both of your nipples pulled out a loud cry and your back flew off the bed, your head still laying softly on the pillow. As soon as she had you reacting to the harshness of her actions against your sensitive buds, she laid her flat tongue right at your dripping hole and pulled it up towards your clit, slow enough to collect all your sweet nectar, but fast enough to give you all the pleasure all at once. You gasped louder than you had all night, but that wasn’t enough, “oh fuck Billie” It flew out of your lips with a powerful tone, shocked at the sudden direct pleasure after such an erotic softness of the foreplay.

Once she was attached she didn’t slow down. Her own brain was lit up with joy at your delicious taste and the sweet moans filling the room so beautifully. Her arms were snaked under your thighs but her hands didn’t stay in one place for too long, moving across your stomach, up to your nipples, high across your collarbone, everywhere and anywhere as she let her fingernails softly scratch your skin. She left a trail of electricity everywhere she touched.

Her mouth continued sloppily devouring you. It was messy but intentional, moving between your folds and up to your clit with skill. When your hands tangled into her hair she pulled away for just a brief moment, just to let you know how much she loved eating you out. “Mmmm fuck, I could do this forever, god you taste so good mama, dont ever wanna stop” As she spoke you opened your eyes, needing to see her between your thighs. You felt paralyzed as you watched her drop all her warm spit onto your sensitive pussy before moving down and licking it all back up, making a sloppy mess of you.

She kept her eyes open, watching you watch her. You couldn't look away, and neither could she, your eyes stayed locked together as she slurped up your arousal and spit it all back onto you again. It was slow, the way she let it fall off her lips and tongue, keeping her eyes on yours, wanting you to see her seductive acts on your body, wanting you to see the way she was playing with you, the way she loved playing with you.

You felt dizzy at the sight and the way her spit felt as it hit your clit. No longer able to stay propped up to watch, you moaned as you fell back down onto the bed. “That's it baby, just relax for me, let me enjoy this for as long as I can” Billie kept up her actions, dragging you deeper and deeper into an unknown realm. You no longer cared how long it would take to make you cum, you wanted this to last for hours if she’d keep going. Nothing has ever felt as good as this, nothing has ever caused all the stars to shine inside of you, all the sparks to ignite within you. You could feel the waves of pleasure from your sweaty strands of hair all the way down to the red polish on your toe nails.

Billie was moaning into you as she let her tongue twirl between your folds. She was in heaven between your legs, drunk of the way you taste and the joy that flooded her body from getting to play with your pretty pussy. She was becoming addicted, already thinking about the next time she’d get her fix, all the things she wanted to do to you if you’d let her.

The tingling started at your feet. You knew what it meant, you knew what was coming. The way Billie would trace a few circles around your clit with her tongue pointed, then flatten it out and lick you from your dripping hole up to your sensitive bud, only to push down and move her head side to side - it was causing the knot to tighten more and more each second. Your moans were loud, echoing off the four walls and traveling right down to her own throbbing core. She knew you were close, but she wanted to hear you say it, wanted to lock in her mind the sound of your voice announcing how close you were. “That feel good mama? Mmmmm fuck I love eating you out, wanna make you cum just to do it all again” Her words filled your mind like a tornado, knocking down anything in its way and only allowing you to focus on what was playing out in this very moment.

“Oh my god Billie, oh my god I’m about to cum, please baby, please don’t stop” She pushed her tongue down harder on your clit as she shook her head and hummed a somewhat incoherent “mh’mh” letting you know she wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. The vibrations of her lips trickled onto your own skin and traveled through each nerve you have. “Feels so good Billie, fuckk it feels so good” you were breathless, not sure how you managed to get out your words. Your chest was rising and falling dramatically, gasping as you got closer and closer.

She was consuming you like you were her lifeline, like your cum was the only source of her survival. You could feel Billie’s smile plastered on her face, a clear indication of how happy she was to have you like this. Getting to physically feel how pleased she was to be fucking you eased any last tension you were holding on to. It was the last thing you needed, that small sigh of relief.

Because as soon as you let it out you were shaking, screaming, squirming under her harsh grip on your thighs. “OOooohhhhh FUCK Im cumming billie, fuck baby i’m cumming, dont stop” the cries kept coming as she continued sucking on your clit. She didn’t want this to end and neither did you. Your body felt as if it was plugged into an outlet, filled with electricity and an intense buzz as your orgasm overpowered your entire being. You felt like your soul was shaking, never having had someone else in control of your high before; In control of when it started, how long it lasted, and when it ended. The slight suspense and lack of power only made the sensations all the more intense.

Her tongue ran up and down your cunt, spreading your cum all over your pussy and coating her mouth and chin. The pitch of your cries only got higher as she kept going, pushing you through your climax and still not stopping. Your legs couldn’t stop shaking, making her giggle as she kept going. Billie wasn’t going to stop until you stopped her. She didn’t ever want to stop, she’d make you cum over and over again if it was up to her.

But you weren’t used to the intensity of an orgasm caused by someone else, the overstimulation was getting to be too much. “Okay, okay, Fuck, I’m done, I’m done” Your hands reached down and pulled her hair, forcing her to separate from your fucked out core. She took a breath the moment you pulled her away, licking her lips and swallowing the rest of the cum left on her tongue.

“woah” you groaned out with a shocked smile, working hard to catch your breath. Billie smiled with you, watching you with hooded eyes as she planted sweet kisses all along your stomach as she traveled back up to you. Your body laid limp on the bed, except for the occasional aftershock that caused your whole body to twitch and shake. You both giggled when she was finally face to face with you again. Her lips found yours naturally and eagerly, like she still needed your taste in her mouth, like she couldn’t get enough of you. It was the truth though, she was just as enthralled by what just took place as you were, she got just as much pleasure out of it as you did.

Your lips danced between each other slowly for what felt like forever. It was like neither of you wanted to pull away, neither of you wanted this to end. You separated and merged back together so slowly, so intimately, over and over again. When she finally pulled away it was only to tell you how beautiful you were and ask if you were okay. You could only nod, still completely out of breath and exhausted underneath her.

But you wanted to return the favor, needed to make her feel good too. So, you began to push yourself up and straddle her. As soon as your wet core landed on her lace thong her hands were on your thick ass, pulling and playing, enjoying making it jiggle in her hands. When you leaned forward and your lips landed on her neck, Billie let out a quiet moan. But within a matter of seconds she grabbed you and rolled you onto your back, laying on her side next to you. Her hands delicately played with your hair, pushing it out of your eyes and behind your ears as she leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Let tonight just be about you mama, I wanted to just take care of you, make you feel like you shoulda been feeling for a while now” You blushed at the way she was speaking to you, not at all feeling like this was a casual hookup. “But Billie, you deserve to feel good too, I wanna make you feel good” She giggled at the sweet seriousness in your voice, kissing you on the tip of your nose and blushing down at you from the intimacy of this all. “You can make me feel good next time, I know that was a lot for you, let yourself rest tonight, I’m just really glad I made you feel good pretty girl” The butterflies in your stomach twirled fiercely at all her pet names.

“Next time hmm?” You smugly teased her. “Girl, duh, have you seen you? I’ll take as many times as I can get with you” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing but you tried to keep cool, you wanted to match her playful energy. “Keep making me cum like you just did and I’ll let you have me forever” the words spilled from your mouth in a laugh as you began to get up and collect all your clothes, finding your dress on the floor after putting on your bra and panties.

Billie got out of her bed and stopped you, “Where are you going? It’s late and I wanna cuddle you, just stay here tonight, please?” She was making it impossible for you to ignore the feelings you had crushing your chest. But you weren’t going to say no, you wanted her in any way she’d let you have her.

[lotuswish]

what loving you feels like to them (pt 3 - heartslabyul)

featured character(s): riddle rosehearts, trey clover, cater diamond, ace trappola, deuce spade

summary: ever wondered what it feels like for each twisted wonderland boy to fall in love with you? this series uncovers their feelings, influenced by their personalities, experiences, and desires. follow me to catch the next part!

cw: none

a/n: heartslabyul boys! what loving you feels like to them might occasionally use the same words—like “grounding,” “growth,” or “freedom”—but those words mean something a little different for each of them. it might sound familiar, but it’s still their own! :)

riddle rosehearts

loving you feels like uncharted territory for riddle rosehearts—an unfamiliar but undeniable pull that challenges everything he thought he knew about himself and the world. it’s unsettling at first, like stepping out of a perfectly ordered garden into a wild, untamed forest. riddle has spent his life living by rules, adhering to structure, and keeping emotions tightly controlled. but loving you doesn’t follow the rules. it doesn’t fit neatly into the framework he’s built for himself. and yet, it feels right in a way that nothing else ever has.

loving you feels like freedom, though he’s reluctant to admit it. for so long, he’s been bound by expectations—those of his mother, his peers, and even his own rigid standards. but when he’s with you, he begins to realize there’s more to life than perfection and discipline. you show him the beauty in imperfection, the joy in spontaneity, and the strength in being vulnerable. it’s both petrifying and exciting to let his walls down, to trust you with the parts of himself he’s always kept hidden.

at first, loving you feels like a struggle—a battle between his need for control and the overwhelming feelings you bring out in him. he overthinks, questions himself, and tries to rationalize emotions that defy logic. but over time, he begins to see that love isn’t something to be mastered or contained; it’s something to be experienced. you teach him that it’s okay to let go, to make mistakes, and to be human. and in doing so, you give him a kind of peace he didn’t know he was missing.

loving you also feels like growth. you challenge him, not by opposing him outright, but by simply being yourself—kind, patient, and unafraid to push back when needed. you help him see the world beyond the rules he’s lived by for so long, showing him that kindness and understanding are just as important as discipline and structure. with you, he feels like he’s becoming the person he was always meant to be—not the perfect son or the flawless student, but riddle, someone who can love and be loved in return.

for riddle, it goes beyond breaking free from his past or discovering joy in the present; it’s the chance to create a future where he can fully embrace his true self, with you by his side. you are his first taste of a world without restrictions, a world filled with warmth, understanding, and connection. loving you feels like learning how to live, truly live, and it’s a lesson he’ll cherish forever.

trey clover

loving you feels like the calm after a summer rain to trey clover—refreshing, soothing, and full of a quiet kind of peace that feels like it was always meant to be. for someone who’s always been the dependable one, the quiet supporter in the background, love feels like finding someone who sees him for more than his reliability. with you, it’s not about what he can give or do for others; it’s about being appreciated for who he is, without the weight of expectations. it’s a gentle, comforting feeling, like coming home after a long day and knowing he’s exactly where he belongs.

to trey, loving you feels natural, like something that was meant to be. he’s not one for dramatic declarations or grand gestures, but his love for you is woven into every little thing he does—remembering how you like your tea, baking your favorite treats when he notices you’ve had a hard day, or simply listening when you need to talk. it’s the small, everyday moments that make up the fabric of his love, each one a reflection of the deep care he feels for you.

at the same time, loving you feels like balance. trey is used to being the caretaker, the one who looks out for others, but with you, it’s different. you remind him that it’s okay to lean on someone else, to let himself be cared for too. your presence in his life is a gentle reminder that he doesn’t always have to be the responsible one, that he can let his guard down and simply be himself. that kind of mutual support is something he’s never experienced before, and it makes his love for you all the more profound.

loving you also feels like discovery. trey is grounded and practical, but you bring out a lighter, more adventurous side of him, encouraging him to step out of his comfort zone and try new things. whether it’s exploring a hobby he never considered or sharing in your own passions, you make him feel like life is full of possibilities he hadn’t thought to explore. it’s not a drastic change, but a gentle shift, like sunlight filtering through the trees, casting everything in a new light.

for trey, loving you feels like the slow, steady rise of dough—something patient, deliberate, and fulfilling. it’s about embracing the small moments, treasuring the quiet joys, and allowing the connection to deepen naturally over time. with you, he feels like he’s found a partner who understands the beauty in simplicity, someone who makes his life sweeter just by being in it. loving you isn’t a whirlwind or a spark—it’s a constant flame, warm and enduring.

cater diamond

loving you feels like contradiction to cater diamond—thrilling and unnerving, freeing and suffocating, all at once. for someone who’s built his life around facades, hiding his true feelings behind smiles and filters, love feels raw and vulnerable in a way he’s never let himself experience before. it’s like standing in front of an open window, the breeze exposing everything he’s tried so hard to keep hidden. it’s exciting, but it’s also a little terrifying, because loving you means letting you see the parts of him he’s not sure are good enough.

to cater, loving you feels like being seen for the first time. he’s used to being everyone’s friend, the guy who’s always fun to be around, but you don’t just see the version of him he presents to the world—you see the cater who gets tired, who feels lonely even in a crowd, who wonders if he’ll ever truly belong. and instead of turning away, you stay. you remind him that he doesn’t have to perform to earn your love, that he’s enough just as he is. it’s a kind of acceptance he’s never dared to hope for, and it makes him love you all the more fiercely.

loving you also feels like a risk, like holding something precious in hands that don’t quite feel steady. cater is so used to keeping people at arm’s length, afraid of the pain that comes when they leave, but with you, he can’t help but pull you closer. it’s scary, how much he cares, because the more he lets you in, the more he fears losing you. but even that fear is worth it, because the time he spends with you makes him feel more alive than he ever thought possible.

at the same time, loving you feels like joy. it’s the kind of happiness that comes from the little things—a shared laugh, a stolen glance, the way you say his name like it’s something special. you bring light to the corners of his heart he didn’t even know were dark, and for someone who’s always chasing fun and excitement, you’re the first person who makes him want to slow down and savor every moment. with you, love isn’t a distraction or a game; it’s real, and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

for cater, loving you feels like taking off the mask he’s worn for so long and finally breathing freely. it’s messy and imperfect, but it’s also beautiful and real, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. you are his anchor in a world that often feels fleeting, the one thing that makes him believe in something lasting. loving you is the most frightening and wonderful thing he’s ever known, and it’s a risk he’ll gladly take every single day.

ace trappola

loving you feels like a challenge to ace trappola—one he didn’t realize he wanted to win until he was in the middle of it. love wasn’t something he thought about seriously; to him, it always seemed like one of those cheesy fairytale things other people made a fuss about. but with you, it feels real, and that terrifies him as much as it thrills him. loving you feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into the unknown, yet grinning because he knows he’ll jump anyway.

to ace, loving you feels like being thrown off balance. he’s so used to keeping things lighthearted, dodging vulnerability with jokes and playful teasing, but you manage to see past all of that. you call him out when he’s being difficult, and instead of pushing you away, it makes him want to try harder. you don’t let him get away with his usual antics, and that’s part of what makes him love you—you’re not afraid to challenge him, to hold your ground, and that earns his respect in a way nothing else can.

loving you also feels like growth. ace is confident, but he’s not used to thinking about someone else’s feelings as much as his own. being with you teaches him to slow down, to consider your perspective, and to realize that love isn’t about winning or being right—it’s about compromise, patience, and effort. it’s not always easy for him, but he finds himself wanting to be better, not because he feels like he has to, but because you make him want to be someone worthy of your love.

at the same time, loving you feels like fun. ace has always had a knack for turning even the most mundane moments into something exciting, and with you, every day feels like an adventure. he loves the way you can banter with him, match his energy, and keep him on his toes. your relationship is full of laughter and lighthearted moments, but beneath it all is a deep connection that he doesn’t take lightly. with you, he feels like he can be himself—flaws, quirks, and all—and that kind of acceptance means more to him than he’ll ever admit out loud.

for ace, loving you feels like drawing a wild card in a hand he thought he’d already figured out, completely changing the game in the best way. it’s a mix of excitement, vulnerability, and the occasional frustration, but it’s also the most rewarding thing he’s ever experienced. you’re his equal, his partner, and his favorite person to annoy in the best possible way. loving you is unpredictable, exhilarating, and a little scary—but to him, it’s absolutely worth it.

deuce spade

loving you feels like redemption to deuce spade—raw, humbling, and deeply transformative. for someone who has spent so much of his life trying to leave his troubled past behind, love feels like proof that he’s on the right path. he feels something deeper than just affection for you—it’s how you make him see himself differently, like he’s capable of more than he ever thought. with you, he feels like he’s becoming the person he’s always wanted to be, someone strong, kind, and worthy of the life he’s trying to build.

to deuce, loving you feels like hope. he’s always been determined to prove himself, but with you, it’s not about proving anything. you don’t judge him for the mistakes he’s made or the parts of himself he’s still working on. instead, you see the potential in him, the good that he’s trying so hard to nurture, and that belief means more to him than he can put into words. you remind him that he’s more than his past, that he’s capable of being someone who deserves love and happiness.

loving you also feels like responsibility, but not in a burdensome way. deuce is fiercely protective by nature, and with you, that instinct is amplified tenfold. he wants to be your support, your rock, the one you can depend on no matter what. it’s not just about protecting you physically—it’s about being there for you emotionally, about making sure you always feel safe, valued, and cared for. it’s a role he takes seriously, and one he’s proud to fulfill.

at the same time, loving you feels like peace. deuce’s life has always been full of energy and turbulence, but with you, he finds a kind of calm he didn’t know he needed. you’re his anchor, the steady presence that keeps him grounded when his emotions threaten to get the better of him. with you, he doesn’t have to constantly push himself to be better—he can just be, and that’s enough. it’s a rare and precious feeling, one he holds onto with everything he has.

for deuce, loving you feels like a second chance. it’s the opportunity to rewrite his story, to be the kind of person who can give and receive love wholeheartedly. it’s not always easy—he’s still learning how to navigate his feelings and express them—but the thought of losing you is what drives him to keep trying. loving you is his greatest motivator and his greatest reward, and he knows he’s lucky to have you in his life. you’re not just his love—you’re his future, his hope, and his reason to keep striving for something better.

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[chrisstvrns]

𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐜.𝐬.

warnings: REUNION REUNION REUNION! kinda angsty but calm reunion, accepting parenthood/coparenting, one mention of pregnancy stretch marks, please let me know if i missed anything! 

word count: 4,198

part one | part two | part three | part four

it had been six months since you last saw chris. you hadnt seen him since the day he broke up with you. that night, when you got home, you tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. he blocked you. 

eventually, you got yourself together again. you scheduled a doctors appointment to further confirm your pregnancy, you got a nursery set up, and started telling your family and close friends. now? you were sitting up in your bedroom of your childhood home, your living room filled with your family and your mothers friends, all there to see your child. 

two weeks ago, you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, with big, blue eyes that looked identical to her fathers. everytime you looked down at the little bundle in your arms, all you saw was chris looking back at you. 

there were little things in your pregnancy that constantly reminded you of chris. you were emotional, and you brushed it off as hormones, but everywhere you went, you saw him. the biggest thing being that one of the most obvious stretch marks on your stomach was in the shape of the letter ‘c’. 

the biggest help in your pregnancy, besides your parents, was nick and matt. at least once a week, anytime they were in boston, they came to your house to check up on you, and they kept their promise to not tell chris. 

it hadn’t been easy, but nick and matt had stepped up in ways you never expected. despite their complicated feelings about keeping the truth from chris, they’d thrown themselves into being there for you and the baby. they showed up with groceries, helped you assemble furniture for the nursery, and even accompanied you to a few doctor’s appointments when your mom or dad couldn’t.  

it was almost surreal having them around so much- two pieces of chris in your life, while the biggest piece stayed missing. sometimes, when nick made a certain joke or matt gave you one of his signature serious-but-caring looks, it felt like chris was in the room, just out of reach. and every time, it brought that familiar ache back to your chest.  

but now, as you sat in your childhood bedroom, rocking your baby girl in your arms, the ache was dulled by the overwhelming love you felt for her. her soft coos and the way her tiny fingers wrapped around yours were enough to make the world feel okay again, even if just for a moment.  

there was a knock at your door, pulling you from your thoughts. “hey, can i come in?” nick’s voice was quiet, careful not to wake the baby.  

“yeah,” you said softly, adjusting your grip on her as the door opened. nick stepped inside, holding a cup of tea in one hand and a soft blanket in the other.  

“thought you might need this,” he said, placing the tea on your bedside table before draping the blanket over your lap.  

“thanks,” you murmured, smiling up at him. nick sat down on the edge of your bed, his eyes immediately falling to the baby in your arms.  

“she’s so perfect,” he said, his voice full of awe. “looks just like...” he trailed off, and you both knew what he was going to say.  

“just like chris,” you finished for him, your voice barely above a whisper. nick nodded, his jaw tightening.  

“yeah,” he said. “but she’s got your nose.”  

you let out a soft laugh, the sound surprising even yourself. “maybe a little,” you admitted, brushing a finger gently across her tiny button nose.  

nick hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “matt and i were talking earlier,” he began, his tone careful. “and... we just want to make sure you’re okay. really okay.”  

you looked up at him, your smile fading slightly. “i’m managing,” you said honestly. “some days are harder than others, but... madi makes it worth it.”  

he nodded, but there was something else in his eyes—something he wasn’t saying. “you know,” he started, “you don’t have to do this alone forever. when you’re ready… if you’re ever ready… we could talk to chris. you don’t have to, but-”  

“nick,” you interrupted gently, shaking your head. “we’ve been through this. i don’t want him to know. not now. maybe not ever. he made it clear where we stand, and i’m not going to force him into something he doesn’t want. if he finds out, sure. he deserves to know about his daughter. but i dont know if im ready for him to know.”  

nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i know. i just… i see the way she looks at you, and i can’t help but think about how much he’s missing out on. but it’s your call. it always has been.”  

“and it always will be,” you said firmly, though your voice softened as you glanced back down at your daughter. “she’s my priority now. no one else.”  

nick reached over, resting a hand on your shoulder. “we’re here for you. whatever you need, whenever you need it.”  

“i know,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “and i’m so grateful for you and matt. i don’t know what i would’ve done without you both.”  

nick gave you a small smile before leaning down to brush a finger gently against the baby’s cheek. “she’s gonna grow up surrounded by so much love, you know that? even if chris isn’t in the picture, she’s got you, your parents, and me and matt. and that’s more than enough.”  

you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “yeah,” you whispered, holding your baby a little closer. “it’s more than enough.”  

“is he.. is he here?” you mutter, your heart clenching. 

nick lets out a deep breath, about to speak when theres another knock on the door. matt pokes his head in, looking at you and nick as he gently speak. “can i come in?” 

you nod, shifting on the bed. he takes a seat next to you, eyes locked on your baby as he smiles, gently whispering 

“gimme my niece” he jokingly mutters, reaching for her

you pass her to him with ease, her little, soft coos filling the room. 

nick looks at you sympathetically, like he knew something you didnt. 

“hes downstairs” nick mutters, awkwardly fiddling with his thumbs 

you take a deep breath, your heart about to jump out of your chest as you nod. “okay.. does he know about her? like, this is a party for her, so how much does he know?” 

“i dont think he knows. theres nothing down there that indicates that theres a baby, unless someone says something.” 

nick and matt exchange a quick, meaningful glance before nick finally says, “we didn’t tell him. he thinks this is just some get together, barbecue thing your parents are throwing. theres so many other people down there, and your parents technically invited our parents, we just tagged along. and, we figured it wasn’t our place to say anything... but he’s bound to find out now that he’s here.”  

your heart pounds harder at his words. chris is downstairs. chris, who you haven’t seen in six months. chris, who left without looking back. chris, who slammed the door in your face. chris, who doesn’t know he has a daughter upstairs.  

you glance at your daughter in matt’s arms, her little hands waving in the air as she coos softly. she has no idea what’s happening, no idea that her father is in the same house.  

nick leans forward, his voice quiet but firm. “we can handle this however you want. if you don’t want to see him, matt and i can say we need to refilm something for the channel to get him to leave. but if you’re ready to talk to him… we’ll be right here.”  

you take a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. part of you wants to hide, to keep the walls you’ve built around yourself firmly in place. but another part of you knows this moment was inevitable.  

“he deserves to know,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.  

nick raises an eyebrow. “you sure?”  

you nod, even though you’re not sure at all. “yeah. i think so. but, i need a minute. can you keep him down there for now?”  

matt stands up, cradling madison gently in his arms. “we’ve got you,” he says, his voice steady and reassuring. “take as long as you need.”  

nick gets up as well, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze before the two of them leave the room.  

as soon as the door clicks shut, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. you stand up and pace the room, your thoughts racing. how are you supposed to face him? what are you supposed to say?  

a few moments later, a knock at the door startles you, but it’s just matt again. “she’s asleep,” he says softly, holding up the baby monitor. “we put her in the crib in your moms office downstairs, away from everyone. nick’s keeping an eye on chris.”  

you nod, your chest tightening. “thanks.”  

“you okay?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe.  

“no,” you admit, your voice cracking. “but i don’t think i ever will be.”  

matt gives you a small, sad smile. “you don’t have to do this alone, you know. you’ve got us.”  

“i know,” you whisper. “but this? this is something i have to do on my own.”  

matt hesitates but nods, stepping aside as you make your way to the door. you pause for a moment, your hand on the doorknob, before opening it and stepping into the hallway.  

the sound of voices and laughter drifts up from downstairs, but all you can focus on is the fact that chris is down there. you walk slowly, your heart pounding with every step, until you reach the top of the stairs.  

there he is. standing by the kitchen, a drink in his hand, looking as effortlessly handsome as ever. your breath catches in your throat. he hasn’t seen you yet, but the sight of him brings back a flood of memories- both good and bad.  

nick spots you first, his eyes widening slightly as he gives you a subtle nod. matt, standing nearby, follows nick’s gaze and tenses slightly, as if preparing for the worst.  

and then chris looks up. his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, everything else fades away.  

the room goes silent, or at least it feels that way. chris sets his drink down, his expression shifting from confusion to something unreadable. he takes a few steps toward the stairs, and suddenly, you’re face-to-face with the man who broke your heart.  

“hey,” he says softly, his voice carrying that familiar warmth that once felt like home.  

you swallow hard, your fingers gripping the railing of the staircase. “hey.”  

for a moment, neither of you says anything. then chris glances around, his brow furrowing slightly. “what’s going on? nick and matt wouldn’t really tell me. is this some kind of surprise party?”  

you take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “not exactly,” you say, your voice trembling.  

chris looks at you, his blue eyes searching yours. “then what is it?”  

before you can answer, a soft cry comes from the monitor in matt’s hand, who was standing a few feet away. chris glances at it, then back at you, his confusion deepening.  

“whose baby is that?” he asks, his voice cautious.  

you take another deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage you have. “she’s mine,” you say quietly.  

chris stares at you, his jaw tightening. “yours?”  

you nod, your throat tightening. “and... yours.”  

you refuse to look up at him, as his breath hitches, and for a moment, he just stands there, frozen, as if trying to process what you just said. his face pales, and his hand grips the back of a nearby chair as if he needs something to hold onto.  

“wait... are you saying...?” he trails off, his voice wavering, eyes flickering between you and the baby monitor.  

you nod, barely able to meet his gaze. “yes. she’s yours.”  

the silence between you both stretches, thick and suffocating. chris’s face changes from shock to disbelief, his lips parting as if he’s trying to find the right words but nothing comes out.  

finally, he finds his voice, though it’s barely above a whisper. “why didn’t you tell me?”  

the question feels like a punch to the gut, and you instinctively glance at the room where your baby is, with nick. you want to say something, anything, to make this feel less like a bombshell, but all that comes out is a shaky breath.  

“can we go somewhere else? theres alot of people here..” you mutter, glancing around at your parents friends 

he nods, motioning for you to lead the way to wherever. the only place you can think to go is your moms office, not feeling comfortable enough to give him the privilege of being in your bedroom again. not yet, anyways. 

you creak open the office door, your eyes landing on nick watching your daughter in her bassinet. you hear his breath hitch in his throat at the sight, and you sit in a chair next to chris as nick takes it as a sign to leave the two of you alone, going out in the hallway with matt. 

you see him wipe his face, taking a seat on the couch. 

“so.. why didnt you-” he starts

“you left,” you say softly, your voice cracking. “you made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with me. you slammed the door in my face.”  

chris’s face softens, his brow furrowing in regret. “i never wanted that. i didn’t mean to hurt you... i thought i was doing the right thing. i didn’t want to see you continuously getting hurt because of my fans.”  

you take a deep breath, finally looking him in the eyes, the weight of the months of silence between you both heavy in the air. “you didn’t know because you didn’t want to know. i tried to reach out, chris. but you cut me off. you blocked my phone number, and on social media. you left me with no choice.”  

chris’s face falls, and he runs a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping. "i... i messed up, didn’t i?" his voice is shaky, the anger and frustration that used to define him replaced with a quiet vulnerability that you hadn’t expected. "i never wanted to hurt you. i just... i didn’t know how to deal with everything. i thought i was protecting you by walking away, but now... now i see how much i fucked up."

you stare at him, the pain in your chest still raw, but there’s something else there too—a flicker of relief. you were angry. you were hurt. but hearing him admit his mistakes, finally, felt like a sliver of justice, even if it couldn’t undo the past.

"i never wanted you to walk away," you whisper, your voice trembling. "i never wanted to go through this alone. you didn’t have to protect me from your fans or from anything. we could’ve figured it out together. but you left. and now, we’re here. and you missed so much."

chris swallows hard, his eyes darting to the baby in the bassinet, his brother still sitting next to it as he takes in the weight of your words. "i... i didn’t think you’d ever forgive me," he admits, looking down at his hands, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. "i didn’t think i deserved it."

you shake your head slowly, the tears still stinging your eyes. "it’s not about forgiveness right now," you whisper. "it’s about her. she deserves to know her father, whether you think you deserve it or not."

he looks up at you, his eyes brimming with emotion. "i don’t even know where to start. i’m so sorry. i... i can’t believe this is real. i can’t believe i have a daughter."

you nod slowly, fighting the urge to cry. "i didn’t want this for her," you say, your voice small. "i didn’t want her to grow up with one parent and never knowing the other. i wanted to protect her from the pain of not having you in her life. but i can't do that anymore. she deserves better."

chris stands up abruptly, pacing across the room, his hand gripping the back of a chair. "im so sorry.. i.. shouldve let you explain, but i just shut you out. i just left you, i slammed the door in your face. god, im so sorry.. she’s... she’s my daughter."

you watch him, your heart heavy with the weight of the past few months. it’s hard to accept that the man who walked away so easily is the same person standing here now, remorse in his eyes.

"but it’s not just about you anymore, chris," you say, your voice gaining strength. "it’s about her. and i need to know you’re ready for that responsibility. i need to know you’re ready to be her father, whether that means stepping up now or stepping aside. but if you’re going to be a part of her life, you can’t just show up when it’s convenient for you."

his face tightens, and he turns to face you, his eyes serious. "i don’t want to step aside. i want to be there for her, for you. i want to be the man i should’ve been six months ago. i know i don’t deserve your trust, but i’ll spend the rest of my life earning it, if that’s what it takes."

you nod slowly, your breath catching as the reality of the situation settles in. "we’ll see. one step at a time, okay?"

he gives a small, shaky nod in response. and as you both stand there, the tension between you is palpable, but there’s also a flicker of hope—however small it may be—that maybe, just maybe, things can start to heal. for you, for chris, and most of all, for your daughter.

after a moment of silence, he speaks up again, his voice soft and caring. “whats her name?” 

“madison. madison nicolette sturniolo.” you mutter, glancing at your sleeping baby in the bassinet 

“madison...” he repeats to himself, staring at the baby ““can i hold her?” chris asks hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.

you pause, your protective instincts kicking in. it feels monumental—this moment where he meets his daughter for the first time. but you nod, your voice steady despite the nerves swirling in your chest. "yeah. just be gentle."

matt stands, giving you a supportive nod as he steps aside, watching as you lift her from the bassinet, cradling the baby carefully before transferring her into chris’s waiting arms. chris’s hands tremble slightly as he holds his daughter for the first time.

his breath catches as he looks down at her peaceful face, her tiny features soft and perfect. "she’s beautiful," he murmurs, awe and disbelief coating his voice.

"she is," you agree softly, watching his expression shift as the weight of it all sinks in.

chris’s lips part as he whispers, "hi, madison," his voice cracking. "i’m your.. im your dad."

your throat tightens at the tenderness in his tone. the man who had once shut you out now stood before you, humbled by the reality of what he’d lost and what he now had the chance to gain.

madison stirs slightly in his arms, letting out a soft coo, and chris lets out a breathless laugh, blinking back tears. "she looks so much like you," he says hoarsely, though his eyes flicker back to hers. "but those eyes... god, they’re mine."

you let out a faint laugh despite yourself. "yeah. she makes it hard to forget." there’s a long, quiet pause before chris speaks again. "thank you... for keeping her safe. for doing everything i should’ve been there to help with."

"you weren’t there," you admit honestly, but your voice is softer now. "but nick and matt were. they stepped up when i needed someone."

chris flinches at the truth but nods. "i’m glad they did." he looks at you, sincerity etched across his face. "but i’m here now. and i want to be here- for you and her. no more running. i promise."

there’s doubt lingering in your chest, but for the first time in months, there’s also the faintest glimmer of hope.

"one step at a time," you remind him firmly, needing to protect not just yourself, but madison too. "we’ll figure it out."

chris nods, holding madison a little closer as if silently vowing never to let go again. "yeah," he agrees. "we will." 

in that small, cluttered office, surrounded by lingering pain and tentative hope, the first step toward healing is taken. for madison. for you. and maybe, just maybe, for chris too.

“chris?” you whisper, a tear spilling from your eye

without taking his eyes off of madi, he hums in response. 

“we need to talk. about.. us..” 

before you can get another word out, he cuts you off as he mutters, yet its clear enough for you to hear “i still love you.” 

your breath hitches in your throat, staring at him. 

“and i know, before you say anything, i know i left you. but i thought that would be best. i couldnt stand watching you get hurt by the fans everyday. i wanted to call you, and i wanted to explain. i just couldnt. i didnt know if youd believe me, if youd want to talk to me.. nick and matt told me to just keep giving you space.. and now i know why..” he glances up at you, a tear falling from his eyes as you stare at him, your lips slightly parted, your eyes watering with tears 

“i wanted you to come back.” you whisper, honestly. “i wouldve taken nick or matts phone and called you and begged you to come back. i just.. i didnt want you know about madi. i didnt want to force you to stick around if you didnt want to. i didnt.. i didnt want trap you.” 

“god, baby dont say that. dont say you didnt want to trap me. you wouldnt have. i wouldve- i shouldve- never broken up with you. i wouldve stayed, been there through the pregnancy, been there to hold your hand when you were giving birth, i..” he trails off, tears falling from his eyes. “i love you. i always have. and i always will. nothing is ever going to change that.” 

you clench your jaw as tears fall from your eyes, chris gently taking a few steps closer to you. he carefully holds madi in one arm, his other reaching down to cup your cheek. 

“come back to me. please. let me be a dad to madi. let me.. let me be your boyfriend again. and maybe.. maybe eventually youll let me be your husband. we can raise madi. together. be our own little family. because i love you, and now i love madi. please, baby.” 

you nearly sob at his words as he wipes tears from your face, eyes locked on yours. 

“let me come back.” he whispers yet again, followed by you gently nodding, a soft smile appearing on your face

“i love you.” you whisper

“i love you too.” he responds, his eyes locked on yours 

“always have...” you trail off, waiting for him to finish the promise you made to each other when you were younger

“always will.” he finishes, resting his forehead against yours as the both of you close your eyes, finally okay again. 

you let out a soft laugh, placing a hand on his neck, opening your eyes to see your daughter, being held in her fathers arms for the first time. he softly pulls away, carefully placing madison in the bassinet, his arms immediately wrapping around your waist. you stare up at him, smiling. you wrap your arms around his neck, looking into the eyes of the love of your life. 

he gently tilts his head down, tilting it as he connects his lips to yours, passionately kissing you for the first time in six months. 

you melt into the kiss, tightening your grip around his neck as tears stream down your face. after a few more seconds, you pull away from the kiss as the two of you tightly hug each other. 

“i love you. so much. and im not going anywhere. i promise you that.” you mutters, placing a kiss to your temple. 

“i love you too, chris. i know youll be a great dad to madi.” you whisper, burying your face in the crook of his neck 

he places one final kiss to your temple, taking your hand in his, glancing down at your sleeping daughter. 

“come on,” he whispers, reaching down to lift madison. “lets go back out to the party.” 

and you knew that this was it. chris was back. for you, and for madi. you were going to be a family. 

────────────୨ৎ────────────

a/n: IM GONNA CRY i had so much fun writing this series there MIGHT be a part 5 but idk yet???

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

find other parts of this series here

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

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⋆˙⟡ tags: @lvrsturniolo @marrykisskilled @mattscoquette @emely9274 @wh0remikasas @mattsstarlet @pvssychicken @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @jvngle18 @sturns-mermaid @mattslolita @lolastrniolo @55sturn @oliviasthatgirl @hannahsturns @dykes4chris @y3sterdaysproblem @bernardsbendystraws @courta13  @colorthecosmos444 @delilahsturniolo  @colorthecosmos444  @chriss-slutt  @cvnntagious  @conspiracy-ash  @bluetalia  @chris-hallelujah @15vogue  @chrispleasure  @idkwhatthisis2009  @sturniologirlzz  @sturniolo101  @leeeeree  @nicksorange @tylerstacobell  @simpforeveryman @sofieeeeex  @espressqe  @yesterdaysproblemm  @skye-44  @kikirasweatsweathoho @shadowthesim @chrepsi @st4rcs @mattswifeyx @sturnslux3 @iheartmattsbeard @sophiaxsblog @slutforchrissturniolo2 @pair-of-pantaloons

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION: Boomer Drow, Scratch, Mouthwashing, Cats and musical opinions.

A more casual compilation this time as I desperately try to make some room in my inbox. I went back so far I found lore questions and art prompts that I really liked but had completely forgotten about... That's why it's a mess in there LOL I will hopefully get to those soon!

Hi! Thank you! I still dream about smoking almost every night and had a couple during the new year but I'm hanging in there :')

Very loose and mostly as a bit. It might be something that I explore more in the future, but as of right now their "canon" setting is far, far more interesting to me!

...That's brutal and highly accurate 😭

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

I'm not gonna lie, when I started posting I got, uh, a lot of responses like this to my art. About how I drew people "ugly" and frightening and even though it MOSTLY was meant as a compliment, it got kinda... Overwhelming 😅 It definitely led me to do a 180 for a while and re-access how I wanted to draw people. I love drawing flaws but I think that comes from not really seeing them as flaws, so the amount of folks AGGRESSIVELY harping on it did eventually get to me a little bit.

I think I've since found a pretty good balance between simple, pretty and "flawed" that I enjoy, though. So, thank you! I do take your message as a compliment and I'm glad you enjoy him.

DU drow was my first run! I have since played with a different character called Izzantar who was my first non-urge campaign though.

...

...

... I didn't find scratch in the DU drow run. Sorry anon LOL

Now you see, this is the legacy I want to leave behind.

(thanks for making Astarion feel included)

I was the one who recommended it to him and I really liked it! I've always DREAMED of a game that actually and unapologetically put you in the shoes of a shitty person and took you through the complex reasons why they are the way that they are without justifying their actions. And I adore the way the secondary character undeniably had a hand in the tragedy that unfolded despite his good intentions. The game sincerely explored the types of flawed characters I rarely ever see explored and I can only give it my sincerest kudos to it.

I've been considering playing Origins on stream after MANY recommendations, actually!

I would suggest examining and referencing off athletes and gymnasts videos for practice while trying to garner a more in-depth understanding of musculature by crossreferencing that stuff with dry, medical anatomy diagrams. I have a few more in-depth examples and advice in my #tutorial and #advice tags!

DU drow would really like Frida. Jarboe would constantly disappoint him by being the very dumb animal that she is.

I think Astarion would like both of them but complain endlessly about how much attention they demand and how up in his business they'd want to be - I have a feeling he likes street cats, which none of my cats are (Frida has a little street-smarts remaining but has been thoroughly spoiled by now. Jarboe was a hoarder cat before I adopted her and is extremely sociable and un-cat-like because of it.)

I DM'd a single Call of Cthulhu session in my teens and only recently participated in my first ever DnD game in a discord event! That's about it.

This is for the over-attentive ANE readers but Brutus is a Dalyria song for me ☺️

He'd like Jazz A LOT.

But I think he'd be more of a root-punk/post-rock guy, not really into synth. And then a lot of the classics like Elvis, Nina Simone, Marley, etc.

Also Foetus and GG allin for whatever reason.

3 for Astarion, 5 for Shadowheart. Jaheira would never but she could get away with 8.

[sp0o0kylights]

Knight Commander Stephan Harrington, Champion of Light, right hand to the newly crowned (and very young) Queen Elaine, was tied up on the floor. 

Unfortunately, so was Eddie.

Which wasn’t intentional--it certainly had not been the plan (not that kidnapping two royal knights had been the plan either)--but it was the outcome that had happened and so, Eddie had to deal. 

Now if only he could get the damn bespelled ropes from entangling him…

“You are incredibly bad at this.” The knight informed him in an amused tone. “Like, insanely bad. You should be ashamed levels of bad.” 

…which would be a lot easier if he wasn’t being heckled. 

“I am not!” Eddie defended, as he finally managed to free himself, throwing the offending, wiggling ropes across the room. Never again would he buy from the cheap spell stall in the market. 

“This is a clear and obvious ploy to get you to feel like I am in over my head and you--both of you!--are falling for it!” 

He leapt to his feet, spinning around and staring down at his captives with a look he hoped was threatening.

(It wasn’t.) 

“We've been kidnapped a handful of times, you know.” Knight First Class Robin Buckley spoke up from her position tied next to her commander. “People tend to put way more thought into it than this.” 

She’d adjusted her position sometime between her initial capture (a spell he'd purchased that Eddie had intended to hit the royal carriage and not the knights escorting it) to sit cross legged, hands bound behind her back.

“At least one thought, anyway. You gotta admit this feels pretty desperate.” Stephan piled on. He’d been more entertained than pissed ever since Eddie had taken himself down with his own tools, and the wisecracks were getting worse. 

“Thank you, Sir Stephan--”

“You can just call me Steve, man.” 

“—but some of us are on a tight deadline here. And for your information,” He brought himself to his full height, trying to loom over them menacingly, “nobody goes around kidnapping royalty unless they’re absolutely desperate.”

Not that he’d succeeded in the “royalty” department, but he’d gotten close enough. 

“Oh that reeks of a tragic backstory.” Robin said, like she was seated at a dinner party and not on the floor. “Did you get cursed?” 

“He looks like the type of guy to get cursed.” Steve agreed, head tilting like a faithful dogs as he examined his captor. 

Frustration overwhelmed him in a wave and Eddie went to angrily yank on his hair before catching himself in the act. As good as it would feel in the moment, it would not help him convince the idiots before him that this was serious, dammit! 

The result was that he flung his hands around wildly for a moment, before storming off across the room of the little abandoned cabin he’d found, face burning a brilliant, obvious red. 

“I didn’t get cursed, I got accused of--oh. Oh, no, I will not be caught monologuing, fuck you!”

He whirled on his heels, pointing a finger at their stupid faces. “Why I did it doesn’t even matter!” 

(Or rather, it did matter—a lot, actually—but not right now. Not to them.

Stupid fucking royal employees and their stupid fucking charmed lives.) 

He wasn’t shrieking, he wasn’t--except he was, and both knights traded a look behind his back as he paced wildly about. “I caught you, and I am going to use you to get what I want!” 

“Right, sure.” Steve said, nonplussed. “Say, did you maybe touch a weird looking, possibly magical item by chance? Or gave your name to a weirdly attractive looking lady who seems to love yapping about royal court band practices and who definitely wasn't one of the Fae?” 

He cast a sly look at his companion with that last line, and was rewarded when her mouth popped open in instant offense. 

“You swore you’d stop bringing that up!” Robin said, snapping a leg out in a kick, nailing her companion in the thigh with one thick boot. 

“I swore I’d stop bringing up the incident with Nancy.” Steve fired back, taking her kicks with ease. “And all those archery lessons you swore you needed, because you apparently hit your head in battle and forgot how a bow worked--”

“Shut up, Dingus!” Robin growled, in tandem with Eddie’s mounting panic. 

This was not, at all, going how this was supposed to. Not that anything had as it was supposed to, since shit went sideways, but the knights were at least could have the decency to be somewhat afraid of him! 

Or angry.

Eddie could work with angry!

This two bit comedy routine he was being subjected to instead of any rational reaction was just the icing on top of the weird cake of his life and he was this close to having a full blown mental breakdown about it. 

Which, of course, was exactly when they had to go and make things worse.

Robin stopped kicking her commander and turned back to Eddie, eyes narrowing with the sharpness of someone who had just put something big together. “Hey, hold on—aren’t you that bard half the kingdom won’t shut up about? Eddie the Balladeer?”

Because naturally, the first time anyone recognized him since his life went to hell, it had to be the people he’d just kidnapped.

(He should have listened to his uncle and become a woodworker.) 

“I was.” Eddie grumped. “More like fuckin’ Eddie the Banished now. But again,” He stressed the word with a harsh flick of both hands, “that doesn’t matter.” 

“Why not?” Steve pressed him. “Pretty sure Dustin is planning on you playing at his birthday party. He’s obsessed with that weird song you do. The one with the bed spring noises.” 

Eddie did not know who Dustin was, but after the chaos of the past two weeks, it was only a matter of time before word of his so-called crimes reached the capitol and shredded whatever remained of his reputation.

“Considering I’ve been accused of murder and my entire damn hometown thinks I’m leading satanic rituals, I seriously doubt that,” he sneered, aiming for something haughty and menacing—anything that would make them start taking this whole thing seriously. 

Steve and Robin exchanged another look, the kind only two people sharing a single brain cell could, the unspoken agreement loud and clear on their faces: ‘Do Not Laugh Right Now.

Which was, frankly, insulting, given the sheer level of trauma that came with being branded a murderer.

“Who accused you of satanic worship?” Steve managed to ask, clearly struggling to keep his words giggle free. “You look like one of those wobbly baby deer. You know, with the big, cute eyes.”

Eddie glowered at him. “Are you deaf? I just said it was the entire town!” 

(He determinedly ignored the fact that Steve had just compared him to a damn woodland creature—and called him cute, on top of it.)

“Is this one of those things wrong place wrong time things?” Robin tacked on, like this was a fun puzzle and not Eddie’s life spiraling wildly out of control. “Like, ‘there’s a dead body on the floor and I’m holding a knife but I swear I just walked in here right before the constable did’ type of situations?” 

“I bet the person he apparently murdered isn’t even dead.” Steve fake-whispered to Robin conspiratorially, eyes never leaving Eddie’s. They were crinkled at the edges in a smile, like this entire thing was getting better by the second. “Money says he helped a fair maiden get out of an awful marriage and the shitty fiancé accused him of killing her.” 

Which is exactly what happened, the fucking dick. 

Jaw swimming with his attempts to get out too many words at once, Eddie sputtered. “Of course she isn’t dea--I mean, I, no!” 

“Ha! Steve you totally nailed it.” Robin said, leaning back in triumph. “Which means Dongus here was trying to kidnap one of the Princes to get someone to listen to you. God that’s so cliche.” 

“It’s not like I asked for it to happen!” Eddie shrilled, tone hitting notes he hadn’t been aware his throat could make. 

“Man, I'm good.” Steve said, ignoring Eddie entirely. "I should've been a detective."

“Please, you’re much better at looking intimidating than actually being intimidating. Why do you think Hopper made you Champion, Mr. Model?” 

Eddie’s hands were in his hair again, and this time, he gave up all pretenses of looking cool and evil and let himself tear at it. 

“Why I’m doing this doesn’t matter because it’s not like you two can fucking help me!” 

That, at least, cut through the good cheer, succeeding in finally getting both knights to shut up. 

“I’m dead if I don’t fix this, but worse is if they go on and target Wayne, or Gareth or the rest of the band, or--” He wasn’t exactly hyperventilating, but he was breathing awfully fast. “I can’t let that fucknut Carver go on a whole rampage and hurt everyone who ever associated with me!” 

Wayne was fairly talented at talking the village down, but that had always been when Eddie had been accused of selling fake potions or replacing the town flag with Jason’s undergarments. 

He was not going to be able to fight off an angry mob, should they decide to make the trek to him. 

“Hey.” Steve said, his voice losing all the humor it had before. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!”

“We can help make it okay.” Robin said gently and it become abruptly clear that his kidnapping victims were now trying to comfort him, because life just had to kick him while he was down. “We’re Knights of the Kingdom, after all.” 

“Oh and I suppose I’m just supposed to untie you and you’ll--what?” Eddie glared at them, hands pulling hard at his hair. “Just let the whole kidnapping thing go? Help me out of the goodness of your hearts instead of arresting me and throwing me in the stockades?” 

Steve shrugged. “I mean, yeah.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Eddie said flatly. 

“Does it help if we tell you this isn’t a contender for the top ten weirdest situations we’ve been in?” Robin asked. “Like, it’s not even close.” 

“No. No it does not.”

“Okay.” Steve said, in a ‘thinking aloud’ sort of voice. “How about this? We give you our words as knights that we’ll help clear your name, and you can stick with us so no one else tries anything until we do.” 

Like Eddie was dumb enough to fall for that bullshit. 

“And why would you do that? What's in it for you to help clear my name?” He challenged them. “We both know the second I untie either of you, you’re going to overwhelm me and take me in. I’m not taking that chance.”

Not with Wayne on the line. 

“Has anyone ever told you you have trust issues?” Steve asked, pushing Eddie right over the edge. 

“I was convicted!” He dropped his hands in a crazed movement, only to smack the back of one against the other's palm in time with his shrieking. “Of! Murder!” 

He must have hit another shrill note, because Steve and Robin both winced. 

“Easy.” Steve soothed. “You know who I am, right?”

Eddie snorted. Sir Stephan’s face was plastered across a shitload of banners all over the kingdom. You couldn’t go anywhere without knowing who the Queen’s Champion was, and Robin was nearly just as famous.

“Yes.” He grit out. 

“Then you know that while I myself don’t have any kind of magic or power, I am tied directly into the Kingdom’s power.” 

In an impressive display of athleticism, Steve maneuvered himself up into a proper kneel, hands still tied behind his back with softly glowing ropes. 

He looked up at Eddie through thick lashes, expression earnest. “If you want, I will tap into it to make you an unbreakable oath. That way I can’t betray you.” 

Stunned into stillness, Eddie stared at him, before his eyes swept to his companion, trying to check if this was some kind of trick or trap or--something else he was too stupid to catch.

Instead of an answer, Robin looked just as shocked as Eddie, her jaw dropping.

“Dingus, you can’t be serious,” She protested, while Eddie finally found his voice to choke out;

“Why would you do that?”

“Because we’re the good guys,” Steve replied, with a smile so bright it could probably power the sun. “and the good guys help people.” 

That was said a little oddly--like he was quoting someone who’d said it many, many times before. 

Eddie opened his mouth, struggling to form the words. 

“How,” he started, his voice cracking on the word. He paused, biting his lip before finally gathering the strength to ask, “How do you know I’m not just lying to you?”

“You?” Steve echoed, the word practically a challenge, but he was still looking up at Eddie through those damn eyelashes, his expression calm, like they'd known each other for a hundred years and would know each other for a hundred more. “No way.” 

They stared at each other for a long, drawn out moment. Eddie didn’t know what Robin was doing, didn’t have room in his brain to even recall her presence in the room. It felt like he and Steve were connected, his entire life was teetering and this moment would decide the outcome. 

Steve had been right. Eddie did have trust issues. Big ones, and this entire situation had only made them worse, but somehow, in that moment, he felt like he could do the impossible.

He could trust Steve.

“Okay.” He said quietly, all his bluster and wild hand movements gone. 

Steve beamed at him.

“Kneel down in front of me.” The knight instructed, and as if drawn by an invisible thread, Eddie did so, dropping down so his face was level with Steve’s. 

“Come closer.” Steve ordered, and waited as Eddie shuffled, closer and closer, until they were barely a breaths width apart, so close he could see the streaks of gold in Steve’s warm, brown eyes. 

“I,” Steve started, in a voice that was both powerful and intimate, “Sir Stephan, Knight Commander of the Kingdom of Light, Queen’s Champion and head of House Harrington, call upon the bonds that make me and that I have made in turn, to hereby swear to you,”

He paused, waiting, and it took Eddie a moment to realize he had never given the man his name.

“Edward Munson, of Town Hawkins.” He muttered, bespelled entirely by the warmth in Steve's eyes. 

“Edward Munson, Bard of Town Hawkins,” Steve said, and oh, what the addition of the word ‘bard.’ did to Eddie’s stomach. The flips it made when he realized just how well Steve was continuing to read him, better than anyone else in his life ever had.

(It made him feel insane.)

“that I will aid in clearing your name, restoring your reputation, and ensuring your safe return to the life you were meant to live.” 

Something built up between them, humming with the buzz of magic. The weight felt tangible, the threads growing thick tying Eddie and Steve together.

“By the powers that be.” Steve whispered, leaning ever so slightly forward, eyelashes lowering. 

Eddie repeated the last line back to Steve, guided by the nudging insistence of the magic that circled them. 

For a second the oath become visible, strings of bright yellow magic surging about, and Eddie was almost drawn to look at it, had he not been distracted by Steve closing the distance between them.

“Wha--” Eddie started to ask, only for Steve to draw the word into his own mouth, sealing their oath with a kiss. 

In the songs Eddie sung, the world exploded when one experienced true love's kiss. Birds sang, and people cheered, fireworks rose to explode in the air. 

This kiss was nothing like that.

This kiss felt like coming home. 

Steve ended it as chastly as he started it, pulling back to smile at him. “And there you have it. One sworn Knight Commander, duty bound to clear your good name.” 

“Uh huh.” Eddie said, blinking rapidly, trying to come back into himself, trying not to look as dazed as he felt. “Right. My uh, name.” 

Steve beamed at him. Tentatively, Eddie smiled back, and if a moment could be warm then this one was the warmest thing Eddie had ever experienced, like a gentle blanket being draped across them both.

It was ruined entirely by the forced coughing that started up next to them. 

“If you two are done now, my arms are going numb.” Robin announced, making Eddie jerk back and Steve roll his eyes. 

“Sorry.” Eddie said automatically, face going red for the third time that day. “I’ll uh. I’ll do that now.”

In his mad scramble to get to his feet and hide how aroused he was, Eddie missed the smug look Steve gave Robin.

In his attempts at removing the spelled ropes from her wrists, he equally missed the sarcastically mouthed ‘Slut.’ Robin aimed back at him. 

He did, however, somehow understand that Robin came with Steve, and that he had just damned himself to their bantering.

Weirdly, it made him feel better instead of worse.

xXx

 “So out of curiosity, what name did you give yourself?” Steve asked a handful of hours later, as the three of them began their trek to Castle Hoosier.

Eddie frowned at him. “Name?”

“You know.” Steve nudged his shoulder against Eddie’s playfully, like they were buddies. “Your evil wizard name, or whatever.”

“I never said I was a wizard, Steve.” 

“You cannot tell me someone as dramatic as yourself didn’t immediately decide to change your name to something ridiculous.” The knight challenged, and Eddie hated how easily the guy had clocked him. “I bet it has evil in the title. Or Mean. Or--” 

“It was Dread Lord Munson.”  Robin interrupted. 

With a grin so wide it overtook her entire face, she turned a little leatherbound notebook to face Steve. There, in Eddie’s spidery scrawl, was the offending name taking up half the page. 

“Where did you get that!?” Eddie squawked, lunging for the book. Robin, in a show of skill he wouldn’t have thought her capable of, tossed it right over his head, into the waiting hands of Steve. 

Eddie spun, cursing wildly as Steve took a look at his personal (!) writings. 

(He hadn't even seen her grab it, dammit!)

He ducked out of the way once, then twice, laughing the entire time, before closing the book with a snap and holding it out to Eddie. 

“Come on, Dork Lord, let’s go get your name cleared.” He said, a fond grin on his face. 

“I hate you. Both of you.” Eddie whined, a blush dusting his cheeks as he snatched his book back, but followed Steve anyway. 

He had the worst feeling he was going to be doing that for a while, now. Even if his name got cleared.

Fucking knights.

Bonus:

“We both know that binding ritual does not involve a kiss, Steve.” Robin said, some time later, quiet enough for only her friend to hear. 

“Ah, shut up Robs. Let me have my fun.” Steve said. “Besides, it sets the tone. Now that he knows what kissing me is like, it's all he’s gonna be thinking about.” 

“Pretty sure all he’s thinking about is clearing his name, Dingus.”

“Okay, yeah.” Steve stressed the word, “but after we clear it? That little scatterbrained bard is gonna be fully focused on me.” He flicked a finger at his own chest, and gave what he thought was his best winning smile. 

Robin made gagging noises.

In retaliation. Steve tried to push her off her horse. 

[mrsarnold]

kk angst where reader keeps getting told kk is cheating on her by a bunch of people and she starts to believe it and she confronts kk about it and kk is obviously denying it and they somehow make up and it ends in fluff or smut or both idk

that my heart stops beating when your leaving . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

syn : in the req

pair : kk arnold x fem!reader

warn : mentions of cheating, fluff to smut, one ususage of Y/n

note : yea

All you could hear were murmurs in your ears as you woke up and notifications coming from your phone. The only voices you could recognize were your roommates, Gabby and Maggie. You slowly woke up, feeling groggy as your roommates jumped at your sudden awakening.

“Finally,” Gabby said, exasperation clear in her voice. “We’ve been trying to wake you up for like, forever.”

Maggie, perched on the edge of your bed with a worried expression, gave you a small frown. “You need to check your phone. It’s… about KK.”

The mention of her name made your heart skip a beat. Still groggy, you sat up and reached for your phone, which wouldn’t stop buzzing with notifications. The screen lit up with an overwhelming amount of missed calls, texts, and Instagram DMs.

“What the hell is going on?” you mumbled, unlocking it. Gabby and Maggie exchanged an uneasy glance as you scrolled through your notifications.

Your stomach sank as you opened your texts and saw messages from friends asking if you were okay or saying they were sorry. Confused, you tapped on a link one of them had sent. It took you to a trending post on Twitter, a grainy photo of KK sitting way too close to another girl at what looked like a party. The caption read, “KK Arnold out here cheating on her girl? Guess being loyal’s not her thing.”

“What… what is this?” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly.

Gabby reached out to touch your arm gently. “We don’t think it’s true. It could be photoshopped or taken out of context.”

“But everyone’s talking about it,” Maggie added reluctantly, showing you her own feed filled with people speculating and commenting on the photo.

Your throat tightened, your thoughts spiraling as you stared at the picture. KK hadn’t mentioned going to a party last night—or being with anyone, for that matter. The doubt and hurt clawed at your chest, but deep down, a small voice reminded you that this wasn’t like her.

“I need to talk to her,” you muttered, standing up.

Gabby frowned. “You sure you want to call her right now? Maybe wait until you’re calmer?”

You shook your head, already dialing her number. The phone rang once, twice, and then she picked up.

“Hey, mama",KK’s familiar voice greeted you, though it sounded groggy—like she’d just woken up, too. “What’s up? You okay?”

Your grip tightened on the phone. “KK, what the hell is going on? There’s a picture of you all over the internet with some girl, and everyone’s saying you cheated on me.”

There was a pause on her end, and for a split second, your chest constricted with fear. Then KK’s voice came through, steady but firm.

“Wait, what? What picture? I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I swear I didn’t cheat on you. Where are you seeing this?”

You hesitated, the emotion in her voice throwing you off. “It’s all over Twitter. It looks like you’re at a party, sitting really close to some girl.”

KK sighed heavily. “That’s probably from last week at Tre’s party. I was talking to this girl about basketball—she wanted tips for her little sister. I swear, mama, that’s all it was. I didn’t even think twice about it.”

Your heart ached, torn between believing her and the doubts planted by the rumors. “KK, this is everywhere. People are saying things about you, about us…”

“Ma, look at me.” Her voice softened, and you could hear the desperation in her tone. “Well, I mean, if I were there, I’d tell you to look at me. But you know me. I wouldn’t do that to you—ever. You’re my everything.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you sat back on the bed, your voice shaking. “I want to believe you, but this is so overwhelming.”

“I get it,” KK said, her voice steady but full of emotion. “It’s crazy and unfair, but I’ll come over right now. We’ll talk, okay? I’ll explain everything, face-to-face. Just… please don’t believe this crap. I love you, Y/N. Only you.”

You took a shaky breath, nodding even though she couldn’t see you. “Okay. Come over.”

“Come over in ten,” KK said before hanging up.

Gabby and Maggie watched you silently as you set the phone down, tears slipping down your cheeks. Maggie handed you a tissue, offering a small smile. “She sounded sincere.”

“She did,” you murmured, clutching the tissue tightly. Deep down, you wanted to believe her, to trust her. You just hoped that when she got here, she’d make it all make sense.

And that your heart could handle it.

"mm- mhmmph", You moaned out as KK's tongue continued it's assault on your clit. You didn't understand how you got here. One minute y'all were apologizing to eachother then it turned into toecurling, mouth drowling sex.

"you taste so good baby", She said humming against your cunt making vibrations float through your body.

Childish Gambino softly played in the background, aligning with your moans. KK added 2 fingers to give you more pleasure making you buck your hips up. When she felt your hips buck up she lifted her free hand up to hold your hips down making you whine.

"mm KK i'm s'close", You practically whined out trying you get your hips out of her grasp. She giggled against your cunt when you tried to wiggle out of her grasp.

"Mhm cum f'me baby", she slurred out, pussy drunked out of her mind. Those words alone made you moan out before cumming on your fingers and face. KK removed herself from you after you rode out your high and got up, grabbing a towel.

she started to clean you up before putting the towel to the side.

"you accept my apology now?"

[itsnesss]

could you possibly write a jun hi x reader with like angst and fluff but mostly fluff?? The plot can be up to you :))

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | you struggle with self-doubt and fear of losing jun-ho, but as he reassures you of his feelings and commitment, you begin to find solace in his presence. under the stars, you both face your fears together, growing closer despite the uncertainties

warnings | fluff, angst, emotional distress, light references to past trauma

word count | 1.8 k

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

The city lights flicker in the distance while the cold wind brushes against your face. Everything feels strange, as if the world has lost its color. You wonder, for the umpteenth time, if you made the right choice trusting him.

Jun-ho is by your side, but he seems to be in another place. His face, illuminated by the full moon, is marked by a sadness you can't decipher. He, too, is broken. You know it because you are, too.

"Are you okay?" he suddenly asks, his voice low and cautious.

"Because I don't think this is going to work." The words leave your lips before you can stop them.

Jun-ho looks at you, surprised, as if your words have physically struck him. His expression hardens for a moment before softening.

"Why would you say that?"

You look away, unable to face the intensity in his gaze. Your chest feels heavy, as if something is crushing you from within.

"Because I'm not strong like you, Jun-ho. I'm not someone who can move on after everything we've been through."

He falls silent, but you can feel his eyes fixed on you. Finally, he steps toward you.

"Don't say that." His voice is firm now, though still gentle. "You’re stronger than you think."

"I’m not." Your voice trembles, and the tears you’ve been holding back begin to fall. "I’ve been thinking of giving up, of just... disappearing."

Jun-ho looks like the wind has been knocked out of him. His hand reaches out toward you but stops halfway, as if afraid to break you with his touch.

"Don’t say that." His voice cracks this time, and for the first time, you see tears in his eyes. "I can’t lose you. Not after everything we've been through."

Your knees threaten to give out under the weight of his words. How can someone like him see something valuable in someone like you?

"Jun-ho... this isn’t fair to you. I dragged you into something that was never meant to be your problem."

"No, don’t say that." His voice rises, unusual for him. He steps closer to you, grabbing your shoulders gently but urgently. "Being with you has never been a problem."

You can’t breathe properly, the intensity of his words taking all the air from your lungs. You’re drowning in the weight of his feelings, yet you can't help but feel small beneath them.

"You’re the only reason I keep fighting."

Your heart aches seeing the fear in his eyes. The same fear that you're feeling. He, who always seems so confident, now looks just as vulnerable as you.

"I don’t deserve this... I don’t deserve you."

"Of course you do!" His voice is louder, breaking with emotion. "Don’t ever say that again, okay?"

His proximity overwhelms you, but it’s also comforting. You can feel the desperation in his grip, the urgency in his words.

"You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. And I don’t care what we have to face, I want to do it with you."

Tears fall freely down your cheeks as you try to process his words. You hate yourself for doubting him, for doubting yourself.

"I’m sorry," you whisper, your voice broken. "It’s just that... I’m scared."

Jun-ho pulls you toward him in a firm but tender embrace. You bury your face in his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"I’m scared too," he admits, his voice barely audible. "But I’d rather face that fear with you than lose you."

His words wrap around you like a warm blanket in the middle of the cold. For the first time in weeks, you feel that the weight in your chest is starting to ease, even if just a little.

You lift your gaze to meet his eyes. There’s something in his expression— a mix of love and pain—that takes your breath away.

"I don’t know how to do this, Jun-ho. I don’t know how to stop feeling this way."

"You don’t have to do it alone." His hand gently caresses your cheek, wiping away a lingering tear. "I’ll be with you every step of the way."

His lips curl into a small smile, and that simple expression gives you more strength than you thought possible.

"Promise me you won’t leave," you whisper, almost without realizing it.

"I promise." His voice is low but firm, like he’s making an unbreakable vow.

And in that moment, you decide that maybe, just maybe, you can believe in him. That you can believe in the two of you.

The kiss that follows is gentle, full of silent promises. It’s not a happy ending, but it’s a beginning. A small spark of hope in the darkness.

When you finally pull away, his eyes are still fixed on yours.

"I think we can make it, together," he says with confidence.

You nod, because for the first time in a long time, you think that might actually be true.

And as you rest your head on his shoulder, staring up at the stars in the night sky, you let hope bloom inside of you, even if tentatively. Because, after all, you have Jun-ho. And that’s enough for now.

[allisluv]

Could you write about reader x Finnick where they both met from being victors and were both sold by the Capitol and reader is having nightmares about it so he comforts her

bluffs.

pairing: finnick o'dair x fem!victor!reader

content warnings: pre-established relationship, reader is sold into prostitution, brief mentions of dissociation, shame, brief mention of burning hot showers, nightmares, anxiety attacks. kind of a backstory before we get into the actual nightmare. kind of ptsd. this one is very angsty y'all. if there's anything else you think should be added please let me know!

word count: 0.8k

Once that final canon went off and you were announced as the winner of the Hunger Games, you thought it was finally over— until President Snow called you into his office the next morning and gave you the ultimatum that he had given many tributes before you; be sold into sex-work, or watch everyone you loved be led like animals to the slaughter.

You may have been many things, but you were not stupid.

You prided yourself on being able to tell when someone was bluffing.

And President Snow was as serious as they came.

Your first client was the worst; the pain when you shifted the wrong way, the overwhelming feeling of shame, the ache in your tired bones from being propped in the one position for too long. You had spent three hours in the shower that night in an effort to get the feeling of their hands off your body.

It didn’t work.

It never did— a lesson your red raw skin had had to learn the hard way.

Still, by the time your sixth ‘session’ rolled around, you had found a way to distance yourself from it. A way to almost pull yourself out of your body until it was all over.

Was it the healthiest coping mechanism? Absoloutely not. But it worked. And that was all you had the mental capacity to care about in that moment of time.

Finnick, your boyfriend, found out around client number ten, when you came home with hickeys so large that even your highest turtleneck struggled to conceal them.

His first thought, as selfish as it sounded, was that you were cheating on him. But then you winced when he touched your shoulder, both in pain and in fear, and it clicked into place for him.

You didn’t say anything.

He didn’t ask.

He simply lead you to the bathroom, assisted you in stripping out of your clothes, and ran you a bath. He assessed the damage to your body before helping you into the tub and holding your hand as you sank back into the soapy water. You sobbed and he climbed into the bathtub, still clad in his vest top and his boxers.

He held you as he cried and when you had no more tears left, he wrapped you in a warm, soft towel and tenderly dried you off. He applied the best creams to the bruises, hickeys and scrapes on your body, before coaxing you to lie down hso he could spoon you from behind.

Neither of you talk for a while. He simply holds you as you stare ahead, a distant look in your eyes that he knows far too well. Eventually, you drift off as he runs his fingers through your locks of hair.

You don’t know how long you sleep for, but you eventually wake with a scream lodged in the back of your throat and tears streaming freely down your face. You sit up, holding your chest with one hand and clutching onto Finnick’s vest top with your other.

Your skin is slick with a sheen of sweat as Finnick looks at you with an understanding crease in his brows. Your eyes dart around, wide and doe-like as you attempt to take in as much of your surroundings as possible.

“It’s just me, angel,” Finnick reassures. “It’s just me. You’re not there, okay? It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real.” He smooths the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone. “You’re okay,” he repeats, voice soothing and sugary sweet. “Do you know who I am?”

You nod and he coaxes you into answering with a small smile. “Finn.” You answer, but your voice sounds foreign and cracked, even to your own ears.

“Good. That’s good, angel. Do you know where you are?”

You chance a look around the room just to make sure you’re right. “Home,” you croak out.

Finnick smiles gently. “Good job. You’re doing so well. Why don’t you lie back down for a minute, angel?” He suggests.

You’re hesitant. Bad things tend to happen when you lie down. “I’m not sleepy.”

“I know, angel. I know you’re not sleepy anymore. You don’t have to be. We can just lie here and cuddle for a while until you come back to me fully, okay? Are you comfortable with that, or do you not want to be touched?”

You hesitate. The truth is, you don’t know, but you decide to give it a shot, anyway. What’s the harm in trying? “Can we cuddle?”

Finnick nods, and gentle pulls you closer so that your head is resting above his chest, where you can hear the steady thump, thump, thump, of his heart beating. He makes sure to keep his grip loose enough so that it doesn’t feel constricting and you can pull away if you need to. He waits for a minute or two before asking, “Do you want to talk about it?” You shake your head quickly and he can feel your chest starting to heave with shallow breaths again. Hes quick to soothe you with soft caresses and gentle words. “That’s okay, angel. We don’t have to. We can just lie here, alright? It’s okay. I’m right here.” He presses his lips to your forehead in a feather-light kiss. “I’m right here.”

[hansmic]

𝓬𝓪𝓯é 𝓬𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱

felix x gn! reader

summary: Every morning, they both grab coffee at the same café. One day, the line is longer than usual, and a conversation sparks over their shared impatience. Turns out, they’ve been each other’s “coffee shop crush” for weeks but never dared to speak up until now.

genre: fluff romance

warnings: none

word count: 661

————————————————————————-

In the dimly lit café, Felix stood in line, his eyes casually scanning the familiar faces. He hadn’t noticed until now that the same captivating person had been catching his attention for weeks. The way they smiled at the barista while ordering his coffee was simply adorable.

As fate would have it, today was the day of an unusually long line, and Felix found himself standing right behind them. He was dying to start a conversation.

After a few moments of silence, Felix mustered up the courage to speak. “I guess everyone needed their caffeine fix this morning,” he said with a lighthearted tone. “It seems like we’re all in the same boat of needing that extra boost.”

you turned around, revealing a warm smile that made Felix’s heart skip a beat. “Absolutely! I can’t start my day without a good cup of coffee,” you replied.

The words flowed effortlessly as you both stood in line, sharing stories and laughter. Felix couldn’t help but feel a connection growing between the two of you. The chemistry was undeniable, and the way you talked about your passions made his heart race.

As the barista called out the orders, they both reached for their cups at the same time, resulting in an awkward but endearing touch. Felix turned red but chuckled nervously

As the conversation came to a brief pause, Felix took a deep breath and gathered his courage.

“So, ,” he began, “I hope this isn’t too forward, but I’ve been seeing you here every morning, and well…. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to grab a coffee with me sometime… Not just in line, I mean, on a date."

Felix’s heart raced as he awaited response, hoping he hadn’t misread the signs.

A wide smile spread across your face as you responded, feeling the same fluttering in your chest. “I’d love that, Felix,” you said, a hint of excitement in your voice. “I’ve had my eye on you too, and today was the perfect chance to talk to you.”

Felix felt an overwhelming sense of joy, knowing that this serendipitous moment had led to something more. The two of you continued to chat, making plans for your upcoming coffee date and eagerly exchanging phone numbers.

A few days later, you both met up at the same café. Over warm cups of coffee, Felix and you sat across from each other in a cozy corner booth. The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, and gentle teasing.

As the sun began to set, you decided to take a stroll through the nearby park, basking in the golden rays. Your hands brushed together, igniting sparks of desire. With each step, the closeness between the two of you grew, and soon, you couldn’t resist the magnetic pull any longer.

You reached out, twining your fingers with Felix’s. His warm hand enveloped yours, sending shivers down your spine. As you continued walking, your steps slowed, eventually stopping in a quiet spot beneath a grand oak tree.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves above you as you turned to face each other. With a smile, Felix leaned in, his eyes locked onto yours. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

His touch was soft, causing your heart to race. The atmosphere crackled with desire, and neither of you could resist the pull any longer. With a shared breath, you closed the distance between your lips, capturing each other in a tender kiss. Your bodies pressed together as the world around you faded into insignificance.

Lost in the moment, the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate by the second. Your bodies molded together, seeking closeness and warmth in each other’s arms.

As you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you both burst into laughter, realizing the incredible chemistry that had ignited between you. The walk home was filled with stolen glances and secretive touches, both of you eager to explore this newfound connection further.

————————————————————————-

hope you enjoyed feel free to request more!

masterlist is here if you wanna check out my other stories :)

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 16 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: Buck’s hands trail down to your hands. He takes his in yours. “Do you love him?” “Buck.” “I know you love me,” Buck continues, playing with your fingers. “You know I love you. But I’m asking if you love him.” The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14 | Ch 15

Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: *Are spoilers, listed at the bottom*

Finding a last-minute flight to Seattle was hard — finding four tickets on said flight was even harder. When you explained the circumstances to the boys, they insisted on joining you. Once Chris heard about it, he wasn’t about to take no for an answer either. He’s never seen snow, and when Eddie mentioned that Seattle probably has snow on the ground right now, his eyes lit up. You couldn’t take that joy away from him.

So, the four of you are on a plane. Chris is asleep in his window seat, his head on Buck’s shoulder. Buck is resting his head on top of Chris’s. His eyes are closed, but you don’t think he’s fully asleep yet since he isn't snoring.

You and Eddie took the aisle seats. He’s in the middle while you’re seated on the end. The flight won’t be long, so you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep even if you wanted to.

You bob your knee up and down anxiously as you gnaw on your index finger’s nail. Eddie sets a hand on your knee, making it still.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks softly.

You move your hand from your mouth as you look over, forcing a small smile. “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.”

“When’s the last time you talked to him?”

You consider this. “Eight years? No, nine. It was a few weeks after I turned eighteen.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I was moving to LA for paramedic school,” you say. “He hasn’t reached out since before yesterday. Well, technically he didn’t even reach out then; it was a doctor who called me. Whatever.”

Eddie squeezes your knee. “What are you gonna say when you see him?”

You thought about that question for the rest of the flight. You thought about it as you walked through the airport, Buck holding your hand and Eddie keeping his arm around your shoulders. You thought about it for the entire car ride, up until Eddie turned onto South King Street.

As Eddie parks the car, your mind goes quiet — so quiet that you can hear a ringing sound. You wonder where the sound is coming from and if everyone else can hear it, too. You wonder if silence doesn’t actually exist; maybe this is what your head sounds like when it’s empty.

The sound of your door opening replaces the ringing.

Buck leans his head down, resting one hand on the car door and the other on the frame. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

You step into the night air, and the sudden chill makes you breathe a little deeper. It’s been almost a decade since you spent the winter in Seattle, and it’s as cold as you remember. It’s nice to know that some things never change.

As you walk up the stairs to your childhood home, you think maybe nothing has changed since you were last here. The handrails are still rotting, and the third step still creaks when anyone uses it. When you look to your left, you still see the Vietnamese Buddhist temple painted such bright yellow that it glows, even at night. You put the key in the lock, and you still have to jiggle it back and forth before the door opens.

Of course your father hasn’t changed the locks.

You open the door, flip on the light, and are almost overwhelmed by the sameness. You step onto familiar white kitchen tiles that have been stained creme by dirt and time. You drop your bag onto the foldable table in the center — it isn’t the one you grew up sitting at, but it’s close enough. There are still only two chairs surrounding it; you never needed any more.

“It’s… nice,” Buck eventually says. “Very homey,” Eddie agrees.

You snort out a laugh. “Yeah, something like that.”

The nice thing about South King Street is that it’s a stone-throw away from the Chinatown-International District, which is home to some of the best Chinese restaurants you’ve ever been to. You send the boys to get some takeout, and you tell them it doesn’t matter which one they pick because any restaurant open this late is bound to be good. They come back half an hour later with enough dim sum to feed a small army.

The three of you eat at the table wordlessly. You and Eddie occupy the two chairs while Buck stands, rocking back and forth a little as he eats.

Someone knocks at the door. The boys’ eyes go from the door, then to you. You shrug.

Buck frowns as he sets his plate down, cautiously approaching the door. He opens the sliding peephole, then the door. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, you aren’t… sorry, I thought I saw someone who… Who are you? You don’t live here, do you?”

You’d know that voice anywhere. Your heart starts to dance at the sound. Still, your brain is hesitant to believe it’s really her.

You push away from the table, approaching Buck. Your heart stops dancing and instead marches in painful succession.

She doesn’t look much older. Her hair is longer but still black in color. Her hips jut out a little more, but her frame is still small. Most of her, like all of your surroundings, stayed the same. Her face is still perfectly smooth, and her monolid eyes are as big and full of life as ever.

“Linh?” you breathe out.

“Oh my god, it is you!”

You pull her into one of the tightest hugs of your life.

“I wasn’t sure it was you,” She laughs wetly into your shoulder. “God, you look so different.”

You squeeze her a little tighter. “Yeah, you too.”

The four of you move to the living room, mostly because it has a more appropriate seating arrangement. You and Linh are on the couch while Eddie sits in the armchair. Buck took one of the chairs from the kitchen and placed it next to Eddie’s.

“You know, Buck, when you opened the door, I really thought you might be the owner,” Linh explains with a chuckle. “I thought we might finally be getting new neighbors.”

“So you never moved out?” you ask.

The Lais were your next-door neighbors growing up. Tho and Chi Lai had two children, Nhat and Linh. Nhat is a few years older than you, and Linh is the same age. You attended Leschi Elementary School, then Washington Middle School, and eventually Garfield High School together, often in the same classes. It’s like everywhere you went, Linh followed, and vice versa.

Looking back, it’s kind of incredible the two of you were friends. On the surface, the two of you have nothing in common. You’re an only child, and she isn’t. She has a pair of loving parents, and you have a singular absent one. Her family always ate dinner together, and you were lucky if your dad remembered to cook.

Tho and Chi picked up on your living situation quickly. When you were five, you once braved the cold in two sweatshirts since you no longer had a winter jacket that fit. They talked to Linh about it in Vietnamese, so you had no idea what they were asking; all you knew was that you started spending a lot more time at the Lai house after that.

The Lais weren’t rich by any means: Tho worked whatever blue-collar job he could find, and Chi was a teacher at the elementary school. They also took care of Tho’s father, who was a refugee from the Vietnam War. He lived with them in Seattle from 1975 until he died in the early 2010s when you and Linh were in high school. Still, they made you feel welcomed and loved. Eventually, they became your family.

“No, I never moved out,” Linh confirms. “I got my bachelor’s in Early Childhood Education from the UW. I work at Leschi, actually.”

You smile. “You became a teacher. Just like your mom.”

Linh smiles back as she nods.

“How is she doing, by the way? How are both your parents?”

Linh’s smile falters. “My, uh… my dad died two years ago. He had a stroke.”

“Oh, Linh,” you say sadly, taking her hand, “I’m so sorry.”

You almost say something about wishing she had called. You stop yourself when you remember that you could have called, too.

“You said you thought you were getting new neighbors,” Buck interjects softly.

“Yeah,” Linh nods, wiping her eyes. “I haven’t seen Roy in a few months; I thought he was finally selling the house.”

You swallow, pursing your lips together. Linh squeezes your hand, which makes you look at her.

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Linh asks. “You’re here for him.”

You sigh, pinching the skin between your eyebrows. “He’s been inpatient at Stillwater for the past seven weeks. Last night, they transferred him to the ICU. Liver Failure. I’m visiting tomorrow.”

Linh moves her hand to your back. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh a little. “He’s encephalopathic, but he keeps saying my name, apparently. He asks anyone who enters the room where his daughter is. I’m not even sure how, but they finally got my phone number. He doesn’t have advanced directives, and Washington is a next of kin state, so… here I am.”

“How long?”

Linh doesn’t have to be specific: you know exactly what she’s asking.

“I haven’t talked to the doctors yet, but… months, if that.”

The room goes quiet. You start to hear that ringing sound again. It stops when Linh slaps her hands on her thighs.

“Well, you know what this means,” She says.

You watch Linh walk through the kitchen and out the front door. Buck and Eddie look to you, dumbfounded.

“Will she be back?” Eddie asks, pointing towards the door.

You chuckle. “Oh, she’ll be back.”

Linh returns with four bottles of Sake. They’re the 2 gō size, meaning each one is two servings. She lines up the bottles on the kitchen table.

“I had just enough for everyone to get their own bottle,” Linh says, cracking open the first bottle. “We’re keeping the tradition alive.”

Buck raises his eyebrows. “Tradition?”

You smile, standing up and approaching the island. “When a major life event is about to happen, Linh and I get drunk on Sake. It started when we were 16, and her grandfather took a turn for the worse; we guilted her brother into buying us Sake at the Chinese supermarket. Because we were kids and alcohol naive, we didn’t realize we each drank a two-serving bottle until we were already drunk.”

“We did it again when you were rejected by Tacoma’s paramedic academy,” Linh points out, “and when I got into UW.”

“The last time we did it was before I left for LA,” you tell the boys. You look back at your friend. “I can’t get drunk off Sake tonight.”

“Oh, of course you can,” Linh counters. “Who cares if you show up to the hospital hungover? I mean, it would be a little ironic, considering your father’s condition and all, but…”

“No, I mean I can’t drink anything right now,” you continue.

Linh’s eyes widen. “You’re not…”

“I am.”

“Shut up!”

You laugh.

“Well… Fuck!” She laughs, scooting two bottles towards Eddie and Buck. “I guess we’ll have to pick up the slack tonight, boys.”

It’s weird being the only sober person in this situation.

Everyone is at least a drink and a half in, and it’s definitely showing. The boys can handle their alcohol, so the signs of their intoxication are subtle. Buck always gets super chatty when he’s drunk; he’ll talk about whatever topic springs to his mind. Meanwhile, Eddie gets handsy, so some part of him is touching Buck at all times,.

Buck is sitting on the floor in front of Eddie, who’s still in the chair. He and Linh are in the middle of a lively discussion about Buddhism. Meanwhile, Eddie’s hands aimlessly trace Buck's shoulders up and down.

“So you two are a thing, right?” Linh asks out of nowhere.

That’s how you know Linh is drunk: she has no filter.

Eddie’s hands stop moving, but they don’t retreat. Meanwhile, Buck stares at you.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie eventually answers after clearing his throat. “We’re together.”

The three of you came up with a deal awhile back — in social settings, if someone asked if any two of you were a couple, the answer would always be ‘yes.’ It didn’t matter if the configuration was you and Buck or you and Eddie or Eddie and Buck. Overall, it’s a good plan. You just never anticipated using it in a setting like this.

“Sweet,” Linh says with a nod. She cocks her head towards you. “Then who’s your baby daddy?”

You choke on your glass of water.

“What?! It’s a fair question!”

Your cough turns into a laugh as you set down your glass of water. “Yeah, it’s fair.”

You look at Buck, then Eddie, then at Linh. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like you’re even friends anymore, not really: she’s a part of your past that’s come to life. The second you leave, she’ll go back to being nothing more than a picture in a frame. It’s sad, but it’s just the way it is. She’s one of the two things keeping you connected to Seattle. The other thing is dying in a hospital bed. You’ve enjoyed seeing her again, but you’ve gone almost a decade without her. When she becomes your only tie to this city, it won’t be enough to pull you back.

So, you should probably just tell her the truth.

“Actually, um, I don’t know,” you say. “It’s one of two people.”

She raises her eyebrows. “How’d you narrow it down?”

You jerk your chin towards the other two people in the room. “It’s one of them.”

Linh looks at them, then at you, her mouth agape. “No shit! LA must’ve rubbed off on you.” She takes another sip of Sake, her face wincing before softening. “Are you happy?”

An involuntary smile crosses your face. “For probably the first time in my life.”

Linh went home around midnight, and the boys passed out somewhere around 2:30 in the morning. The three of you are crammed onto the pull-out sofa; you refused to sleep in your father’s bed, as did both Eddie and Buck. You tried to get some sleep, but between the uncomfortable mattress and your racing thoughts, it was impossible.

You left before everyone woke up. Buck and Eddie were going to come with you, but you thought it would be easier to do this on your own. Well, it won’t be easier , but you thought it would be for the best.

You’re standing outside of the room. The sliding glass door is slightly open, so you can hear some random beeping from inside. You can see your father’s feet at the edge of the bed, covered by a sheet.

You take a deep breath and step inside.

The first thing you notice is the smell. It’s sour and acidic and completely overwhelming. You’re used to offensive smells as a paramedic, but between the change of setting and your pregnancy hormones, it takes everything in you not to gag. Your eyes meet the offender — a fecal containment device hanging on the end of the bed. A literal bag of shit.

How fitting.

Your eyes trail up. He’s tucked under the sheet up until his abdomen, which is so rounded that it almost looks fake. His arms are out, propped up under pillows. You notice how yellow they are; his skin looks like a fucking highlighter.

You finally look at his face. He looks… old. Older than he’s supposed to. His face is the same hue of jaundice as his arms and probably the rest of his body. There’s a massive tube taped into one of his nostrils while a massive nasal cannula sits in both. His eyes are closed, but his chest heaves like he’s struggling to breathe.

“Hey dad,” you say quietly.

He doesn’t respond. He probably doesn’t even realize you’re in the room. Still, you pull up a chair.

“I became a paramedic,” you continue. “I’ve been one for… shit, 5 years now? Oh, and I’m in nursing school. I can take the boards in a year. I’m still not sure what I want to do with it. I always wanted to be a flight nurse, but… my friend was in the ICU last year, and I thought maybe I could do it. Now that I’m back in one, though… I don’t know.”

Your father still doesn’t say anything. He keeps breathing heavily, his head occasionally shaking from side to side. You notice that his hands occasionally flap up and down — asterixis, or ‘liver flap.’ You remember hearing about it in a lecture recently. It’s a sign of liver failure. And, based on his neurological status, you’re guessing it’s pretty advanced.

“You ruined me,” you whisper. “For a long time, you ruined me. I felt like I didn’t know how to be a person. I’m one now, though. I became a person. I became something . I’m someone’s girlfriend, and I’m… going to be someone’s mother. And being a parent scares the shit out of me because I never had a good one. All I know is how to be a daughter. A daughter without parents. I don’t know if I was always a good daughter, but… I’m gonna be one now.”

You hear a knock on the door. A woman in scrubs smiles. “Hi, I’m Amanda, his nurse for the day. I’m guessing you're the daughter?”

You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt a teardrop land on your hand. You reach up, wiping the tracks away. “Yeah, I am.”

Amanda turns around, gesturing for someone. A group of three doctors enters the room. Amanda stands by the glass door.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Baltek,” the oldest of the three extends his hand. I’m the Intensive Care Physician covering your father’s care. These are my residents, Dr. Khan and Dr. Dawson.”

You nod, shaking Dr. Baltek’s hand. You offer a small wave to his residents.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, your father’s condition is worsening,” Dr. Baltek explains. “His medical history makes him ineligible for a liver transplant, and despite the high doses of lactulose he’s receiving daily, his ammonia levels are climbing. Our next option is Liver Dialysis, which involves-”

“We’re not doing that,” you interrupt.

Dr. Baltek blinks. “Ma’am, you understand that if we don’t proceed with this-”

“He’ll die,” you say you bluntly. “Yeah, I know. My father’s been dying ever since my mom did. He just found a slower, more painful way to do it, I guess.”

“...So you are no longer interested in restorative care?”

You can’t help but snort. “There’s no recovering from this. He’s gonna die, and he might as well do it as comfortably as he can. So… no chest compressions, no intubation, no tube feeds… I don’t want any of it, because he wouldn’t want any of it.”

You sign the DNR/DNI paperwork. In a way, it feels like you’re signing your father’s death warrant. That should probably unsettle you more than it does.

The social worker gives you a sad look before leaving the room. You look back at your father, who has yet to acknowledge your presence. Mentally, he’s so far gone he probably doesn’t even know who he is.

You take his hand. Until now, you can’t remember the last time you touched him. You didn’t hug him goodbye when you left for LA; you just packed your bags and disappeared.

“Goodbye, dad.”

You get back to the house a little after 10 AM. Eddie and Buck are in the kitchen. Eddie’s leaning against the counter, and Buck, pacing, stalls the second he lays eyes on you.

You smile softly as your eyes water. “Let’s go home.”

~~~

Trigger warnings: implied alcoholism, semi-graphic description of liver failure, talks of death/withdrawing care

[lotuswish]

what loving you feels like to them (pt 4 - ignihyde)

featured character(s): idia shroud (no ortho).

summary: ever wondered what it feels like for each twisted wonderland boy to fall in love with you? this series uncovers their feelings, influenced by their personalities, experiences, and desires. follow me to catch the next part!

cw: none

a/n: no ortho here—he’s baby, and that’s final. what loving you feels like to them might occasionally use the same words-like “grounding," "growth," or "freedom"-but those words mean something a little different for each of them. it might sound familiar, but it's still their own! :)

idia shroud

loving you feels like stumbling into a storyline idia shroud never thought he’d get to be part of. love was something he dismissed as a fantasy, the kind of thing that belonged in fairy tales or cheesy RPGs—dramatic, improbable, and definitely not meant for someone like him. but then you appeared, and it was like an unexpected cutscene he didn’t see coming, pulling him out of his predictable, carefully controlled world and into something that felt both heart-pounding and deeply, unmistakably real.

idia has always lived in the safety of the familiar. his world is a perfectly crafted routine, a place where he knows the rules and controls the outcomes. but loving you throws all of that into disarray. you’re the unscripted event, the glitch in his carefully coded reality, the variable that changes everything. it’s overwhelming, like trying to navigate an intricate maze with no clear path, but he finds himself drawn deeper, unable to pull away, even when it feels like he’s completely lost.

loving you is a paradox he can’t quite figure out. it’s frightening—letting you see the parts of himself he’s spent years hiding, the awkwardness, the insecurities, the crippling fear of rejection. but at the same time, it’s the safest he’s ever felt. with you, he finds a kind of security he’s only ever known with ortho, a sense of belonging in a world that’s always felt too loud, too chaotic, too much. you don’t try to change him or push him out of his comfort zone before he’s ready. instead, you meet him exactly where he is, offering patience and understanding he never thought he deserved.

being with you feels like logging into the ultimate co-op campaign. every challenge becomes less daunting when you’re by his side, every obstacle a little less intimidating. you make things fun in a way he didn’t think was possible—turning the toughest battles into adventures and making him actually want to keep playing, no matter how hard the level gets. it’s the kind of bond he’s spent his whole life wishing for but never thought he could actually have.

what catches him off guard is how much you make him want to change—not because he feels he has to, but because he genuinely wants to. for the first time, he feels like stepping out of his comfort zone might be worth it, even if it means facing things that scare him. being with you gives him a sense of hope, a belief that he can be someone stronger, braver, and better than the person he’s always seen himself as.

for idia, loving you feels like uncovering a hidden level he never expected—something challenging and unpredictable but offering a reward far beyond anything he ever imagined. the world is still overwhelming, but now there’s something in it that makes the struggle worthwhile. with you, he starts to see possibilities he never thought were meant for him, and that alone changes everything.

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[db0xtae]

Winning the Breakup | Chapter 3

- Minho (Xo Kitty) X Reader

⋆˚࿔ Summary : Y/N, a talented and athletic after an intense breakup, Y/N reluctantly agrees to fake date Minho, to make their exes jealous. What begins as a mutual arrangement soon turns complicated when their fake relationship starts to feel all too real. With humor, bickering, and tender moments, Minho and Y/N's journey proves that sometimes the best way to heal from heartbreak is to allow yourself to fall in love.

⋆˚࿔ Warnings : None

⋆˚࿔ WC : 975

⋆˚࿔ Previous Chapter : 2

⋆˚࿔ A/N : Hope you enjoy!!!

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Chapter 3: The First Date

Sunday arrived far too quickly for Y/N’s liking. She’d spent the better part of the morning pacing around her dorm room, second-guessing her outfit for what Minho had so helpfully dubbed their “first date.”

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Y/N muttered, staring at herself in the mirror. She’d settled on a simple yet cute outfit: a cream cardigan over a fitted tank top, high-waisted jeans, and white sneakers. It was casual enough not to scream “I’m trying too hard,” but still flattering enough to fit the fake girlfriend image.

Her roommate, Hana, raised an eyebrow from her bed. “You’re talking to yourself again. What’s the big deal? It’s just Minho.”

“Exactly,” Y/N said, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s Minho! The most insufferable guy at KISS. And now I have to spend the entire afternoon pretending I don’t want to strangle him.”

Hana smirked. “You’ll survive. Besides, isn’t he, like, ridiculously hot?”

“Hotness doesn’t make up for his personality,” Y/N retorted, grabbing her bag. “Wish me luck. Or don’t. I’m doomed either way.”

Minho was already waiting for her at the park, leaning casually against a bench like he’d just stepped out of a photoshoot. He was wearing a black turtleneck, tailored jeans, and a designer jacket, his hair perfectly styled.

Y/N approached him with a sigh. “You’re overdressed. This isn’t a K-drama.”

“And you’re underdressed,” he shot back, smirking. “This is supposed to be a date, Y/N. Put some effort in.”

“I look fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Wow, your enthusiasm is overwhelming,” Minho said, rolling his eyes. “Come on, we’re going for a walk.”

The two of them strolled through the park, trying to look like a couple while keeping as much distance between them as possible. Minho, apparently noticing the gap, grabbed her hand without warning.

“What are you doing?” Y/N hissed, yanking her hand back.

“People are watching,” he said simply, nodding toward a group of students from KISS sitting nearby. “You want them to believe us, right?”

Reluctantly, Y/N let him take her hand again. “This is the worst idea ever.”

Minho grinned. “You say that now, but by the end of the day, you’ll be thanking me.”

After walking for a while, Minho led her to an ice cream stand.

“I’ll take vanilla,” he told the vendor, then glanced at Y/N. “What about you?”

“Chocolate,” she said.

Minho paid for both, handing her the chocolate cone. “See? I’m a great fake boyfriend. Generous and thoughtful.”

“You’re literally just doing the bare minimum,” Y/N replied, taking a bite of her ice cream.

“Details,” he said with a shrug.

As they sat down on a nearby bench, a little girl walked up to them, staring at Minho with wide eyes.

“Are you a model?” she asked shyly.

Minho beamed. “Why, yes, I am.”

Y/N burst out laughing. “Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.”

“What?” Minho said defensively. “She asked!”

The girl giggled, then ran back to her parents, leaving Minho looking oddly pleased with himself.

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” Y/N said, shaking her head.

“I’m just giving the people what they want,” he replied, flashing her a wink.

As they continued their “date,” Y/N couldn’t help but notice how many KISS students they kept running into. It was almost suspicious.

“Did you tell the entire school to hang out here today?” she asked as another group of students waved at them.

“Of course not,” Minho said innocently. “But if people happen to see us together, who am I to stop them?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming,” he corrected.

She ignored him, but when they passed Alex and his new girlfriend, her heart skipped a beat. Alex froze when he saw them, his expression shifting from surprise to something that looked suspiciously like jealousy.

“Y/N?” Alex said, his tone laced with disbelief.

“Alex,” she replied coolly, tightening her grip on Minho’s hand.

Minho, ever the opportunist, pulled her closer, slipping an arm around her waist. “Hey, man,” he said casually. “You doing okay?”

Alex’s jaw tightened. “Fine. You two are…together?”

“Yep,” Minho said, smirking. “Crazy, right? Guess we were meant to be.”

Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Well, we should get going. See you around.”

As they walked away, she glanced back to see Alex watching them, his expression unreadable.

“You’re welcome,” Minho whispered, clearly pleased with himself.

“For what?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“For making your ex jealous, obviously,” he said. “Did you see his face? Priceless.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Y/N muttered, but she couldn’t deny that it felt oddly satisfying.

Later that evening, after their “date” was officially over, Y/N found herself sitting on the steps of her dorm, reflecting on the day.

To her surprise, Minho appeared, holding two cans of soda.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Thought you might want a drink,” he said, handing her a can.

She took it, eyeing him suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said, sitting down beside her. “I’m just being nice. Shocking, I know.”

Y/N snorted. “You, nice? That’s a first.”

“Hey, I can be nice when I want to be,” he said, opening his can.

They sat in silence for a moment, the awkwardness of the day fading into something almost comfortable.

“Do you think this is actually going to work?” Y/N asked finally.

Minho glanced at her, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah, I do. But only if we’re both all in.”

“All in,” she repeated, nodding slowly. “Okay.”

He smirked, his usual cockiness returning. “Just don’t fall for me, darling.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t worry. That’s not going to happen.”

But as she looked at him, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just made a promise she couldn’t keep.

[thatfrailsoul]

– A wish come true

new year's tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )

pictures from pinterest → one, two, three

At the midnight of the new year... There are a lot of whishes that cross our mind. And even more of them stay hidden, silently, somewhere in our heart... But which one of them will be granted to you this year? Which is the one that your soul wanted or needed more, enough to allow it to manifest into this world?

This is our third and last message for the beginning of this new year… A somewhat magical ending, with a glimpse of what we will be able to create and gift ourselves, through the connection of our subconscious and conscious mind. Because it is true that when wish for something', we whisper it out, into this world, hoping that someone will hear and help us... But we are the first ones to listen to ourselves. We are the ones that start to create and guide us through our reality, right to that dream that we expressed.

So take a moment. Breathe. And follow your gaze to the pile that attracts you more. The one that hides a message for you, about something that will be soon and finally yours.

{P.s. What pile did you choose? ♡ Let me know ~}

– Pile One,

the book: the eight and the nine of cups

This year… will be the one of transformation. Of pure and powerful growth of your persona, and of the world around you that will rush to keep up with you and all the possibilities you will discover for you.

One little thing, one little detail… And it’s like you open your eyes for the first time. Seeing your reality so differently. Almost like your perception of it, just a mere second ago, was only your imagination. The limits, the obstacles… all gone. Just like that. Just because you found that right spot from which to look at it, discovering all at once the alternative paths that were always there, so hidden and never used.

Changing place, career or studies… it will not be a scary and silent desire anymore. It won’t be a fantasy to lull you at night. It will be overwhelmingly real, but beautiful. And possible. All thanks to your patience and hard work. All thanks to your dedication and tender grip you had on this dream, never letting it go, no matter how difficult it seemed to bring it into this world.

You will make it out of this cage of circumstances. But without any rush or guilt for leaving everything and running away, hearing the disappointing or judgemental voices of others behind your back. No, you will do it the right way. The one that will satisfy both them and your mind. You will do it so no one ever doubts it, your decisions… You will do it by taking care first of what you have now, so you won't ever have regret about your choice.

It will take some time indeed, to finish up this journey first, to conclude at least one of its phases, to keep under control that impatience and at times frustration of wanting to move on… But it will not seem so long once you will do it. Once you will focus on it, this time knowing clearly why you are doing it, and without feeling pressured and forced for the first time in so long.

You will just do it. Achieve what you can, what is enough for you, and then you'll move forward, but on a different path.

It will be quite an adventure, the one you will live this year. But it won't be rushed or difficult. It will be clear and flexible. An adventure that will seem to be already so well written, leaving to you only the most fun and easy part of enjoying it, following the flow and plot of it.

{ ♡ }

– Pile Two,

the ship: the eight of wands and the knight of cups

So much movement… So many things to plan, to check and to control. So many stuff to consider and to take care of as you go further… It really is overwhelming. Even if this change and progress was something that you wanted and worked on for so long. It still doesn’t really prepare you, desiring it or thinking about it, to the reality of what change is. The fast pace, the little time to breathe, the way things become completely different from one night to another, needing much more attention from you, than when they only were in the dreams you visited when you wanted. It is demanding, consuming, and it is not linear at all. It is so fast one moment, and then the other everything stops. Making you wait days, months, sometimes even years… Not giving you time to react and adapt, and once you somehow do it, not allowing you to put in practice what you prepared.

It was happening already for quite some time. Becoming the manifestation of your frustration, rather than a dream come true, the thing you wanted and hoped for so long… But finally things seem to calm down a little, as there is less and less to do and organise. And more free moments for you to just stop, look around, and see that you are finally here, exactly where you pictured yourself so many times. Where you can realise that it wasn't a mistake after all, like you started to think amids all that confusion and movement that you didn't expect in your dreams. And that it indeed was just a phase, just the beginning of a journey for which this year you will be ready for finally.

You will have more time and space, in the end. Exactly like you imagined it. That freedom, that peace, that space to grow and experience new things. Learning again to enjoy this journey, to remember why you wanted it so much, and letting go of the stress and confusion that this preparation overwhelmed you with.

You will make out of it, victorious. Holding in your hands the reality that you created all by yourself. Complete, real, exactly like you wanted it to be.

{ ♡ }

– Pile Three,

the stork: the six of cups and the ace of coins

They are so heavy… those things, people, situations from the past. The ones that became pure burden, slowing you down so much, distracting you, calling your mind and heart every single time you try to start anew. They are so persistent, even when they are only a memory, that is ridiculous, just how much power something can have over you… So much that in this desperation and frustration you started to think that it was you, who was still holding onto it, who was bringing it back alive from the past.

But it wasn't really you, at least not only. It was simply all that reminded of it to you, triggered you, in such a painfully familiar way. And there wasn't anything wrong in the fact that you couldn't just ignore it like so many suggested.

You needed your time, and you took it for yourself. Even if it wasn't always so easy or exactly like you wanted… you still gave yourself that space needed to heal and fully process all that happened. Enough to clear things out, find answers, context and explanations, even if you are the only one aware of them, even if they will never listen or express their perspective on what happened. It was still enough for you. For that you of the past that felt like things never really ended, because of how many things remained untold and so strange. You helped yourself. You ended things, concluded them, even the ones that should've been taken care of by those who walked away. But you freed yourself.

And with this new peace, new understanding and acceptance, you will start to welcome in all those things that you wanted but couldn't reach. They will come to you on their own, naturally, seeing that now you are truly ready to live a new phase of your journey.

It will be simply easier this year. Taking the opportunities, making choices, trying things, working on them and achieving. Because there won't be nothing heavy on your heart, nothing overwhelming your mind. Not the past. Not the regret or silent and contained rage. There will be just you, who left it all behind. Being now able to fully open your wings and take flight.

One seemingly little thing will influence and change so much. In all areas of your life. That will start to evolve and bloom into something more, in those desires that for so long you were forced to keep just in your heart, daydreaming about a chance to live a different life.

{ ♡ }