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orchidseason · 8 days ago

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Too Clingy...?

ִ ࣪𖤐 loser!ellie w x fem!reader

After weeks of tension with your roommate, you turn to your girlfriend Ellie for comfort. But when a teasing comment makes you question your place in her life, you distance yourself, afraid of being "clingy."

warnings ִ ࣪𖤐 word count 1.5k, college!AU, established relationship, anxiety (r), overthinking, hurt/comfort, misunderstanding, emotional breakdown, mild language, kissing

It had been a rough few weeks. The tension with your roommate had reached a breaking point, and you were finding it hard to breathe, let alone function. Every day felt like a struggle. You’d been feeling emotionally drained, constantly walking on eggshells, and trying to avoid conflict in your own space. Your dorm room had become a place of silence, and it felt like you were suffocating.

One night, after another argument with your roommate that left you feeling small and unimportant, you packed a bag and went straight to Ellie’s. You didn’t even need to text her beforehand—Ellie always knew when you needed her. Her dorm had become your safe space, the place where you could let go of all the tension and just breathe.

Ellie opened the door, her face softening when she saw you. She immediately pulled you into a tight hug. “Hey! Woah...what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice gentle.

You sniffled and buried your face in her shoulder. “My roommates a fucking bitch. She argues with me about the stupidest things and leaves passive aggressive sticky notes everywhere and then she just keeps-I just cant do it. Im so done."

Ellie tightened her grip on you, her hands running through your hair soothingly. “Shh, babe. You’re always welcome here, you know that. You don’t need to explain it all to me."

In the weeks that followed, you found yourself at Ellie’s more often than not. Being with her was an escape. You’d spend your evenings wrapped in the warmth of her arms, playing games, watching movies, or simply lying together in a comfortable silence. For the first time in a long time, you truly felt like you could let go of all the stress that had built up.

You and Ellie were lying on her bed, curled up together. You had your head resting on her shoulder while she played Minecraft on her phone, tapping away at the screen as you both enjoyed the quiet of the room. It was one of those perfect moments where everything felt in place. You didn’t need to talk. You didn’t need to do anything except be there with her.

Ellie talked suddenly, breaking the silence. She glanced at you with a teasing grin. “You’re really here every night now, huh? I might start calling you my official roommate. Getting a little clingy, mm?"

The comment hung in the air, and your stomach sank. The word "clingy" hit you like a ton of bricks. She said it with that usual mischievous smile, but something about the way she said it made your chest tighten.

Clingy.

The word echoed in your mind as you lay there, still and frozen. Had you been too much? Was she annoyed with you? You’d been spending so much time at her place lately, leaning on her for comfort when you didn’t know where else to go. Maybe she was tired of it. Maybe she was tired of you.

Ellie went on, completely unaware of how her words had affected you. “I’m just messing with you,” she said, laughing lightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "you know my favorite you is clingy you."

Still, you couldn’t shake the doubt. It festered in the pit of your stomach. Clingy. You wanted to push it out of your mind, but it was all you could think about. Maybe she really was tired of you. Maybe her joke had truth lining in it and she was wanting some space from you.

You stayed quiet, too lost in your head to respond. When the moment passed, you quietly gathered your things, not looking at Ellie. “I should head out... I’ve got a lot of work to do,” you said, your voice soft and distant.

Ellie didn’t seem to notice your change in energy. She was already absorbed in her phone again, focused on the game, not on you. She didn’t look up when you left, but if she had-she would not have let you leave.

As you walked out, your heart felt heavy. Had you been too much? Too clingy? Ellie had always been understanding, but that comment, though playful, made you spiral.

You didn’t go back to your dorm. Instead, you found yourself at the library, hiding away from the world. You tried to focus on your schoolwork, but the thoughts wouldn’t stop swirling in your mind. Was she really tired of you? Had you made things awkward? You didn’t want to burden her anymore, but the more you thought about it, the more you questioned whether she really wanted you around.

Days passed, and you kept your distance. You couldn’t bring yourself to reach out to Ellie. Maybe she was right; maybe you had become clingy, and now you were giving her space to breathe.

You didn't respond to her texts and calls and you're sure that's what set her off to finally just track you down on your shared location one afternoon.

While you were hunched over a stack of textbooks in the library, you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey,” Ellie said softly, making you jump. You didn’t even need to look up to know it was her. “Haven’t seen you around in a while. Everything okay?”

"That's good news, isn't it?"

She looks confused, a little hurt, "what...?"

Your throat tightened, and before you could stop it, all the thoughts you’d been bottling up poured out. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you said, voice cracking. “It’s just... It's me. I’ve been overthinking everything since you called me clingy. I know it was a joke, but Ellie it's true. I spend so much time at your dorm, in your space. I didn't want to overwhelm you anymore so I just-"

Ellie knelt in front of you, her gaze softening. “No, hey stop that,” she said gently, taking your hands in hers. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just messing with you. I love having you in my dorm, I prefer it. You’re not clingy. You never could be. I’m sorry I made you feel like you were.”

You bit your lip, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders, but the hurt was still there, lingering. “I didn’t want to make things weird, and here I am making it weird."

Ellie smiled, brushing a hand over your cheek. “You could never make things weird, babe. I promise."

You blinked back tears, suddenly overwhelmed by how much you needed to hear those words. Ellie leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m always here for you, okay? Don’t shut me out.”

You smiled, finally feeling like you could breathe again. You nodded, feeling safe in her arms as she held you close.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you too,” Ellie replied, leaning in after to press a kiss to your lips.

taglist // @kaykeryyy

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knuiui · 11 days ago

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╮TWST Boys feat. "What's your perfume type? "

♡ HEARTSLABYUL ❣

the dorm based on the strict queen of hearts! since that 'certain' fiasco just a week after you and yuuken arrived the first friends you had is from this dorm! you still hangout with them from time to time especially during unbirthday parties! pictures of your outfits for the event always go viral.

╰ Riddle Rosehearts ♥

you and him got close after 'that' incident. you consider him as a smol hedgehog that needed to be protected 🥺 he almost dropped kicked your knee caps after you said that /j. but on serious note, riddle considers you as one of the most hard working person he's ever met aside from his mother. he'd been the witness of your grueling hours of practice just to get a character's accent right (yk cause you're not from here) and study what type of character you're playing as. he wished you'd take care of yourself more though. relaxing is good okay! he's been through the same road and he'd hate to see you suffer some sort of breakdown like he did, minus the homicidal tendencies.

he's seen that video. It practically went viral over at twistok the moment it was said to be you participating in the "What's your perfume type?" kind of questions.

acts cool but is actually panicking on the inside. really considered changing his perfume to match whatever you said was your type.

he didn't get to ofc. that perfume was practically sold out within 24 hours of the viral video being posted. you're fans really are very dedicated. instead he opted for a new fragrance that caught his eye while browsing the store.

════ “ What's his perfume? ”

Amouage, CRIMSON ROCKS

cater later did the whole trend as well for the members of heartslabyul dorm and asked him the question, he glared for a little bit before answering and hastily turning back to his books. if you squint you can see the tips of his ears almost color matched the shade of his hair.

he answered, "[your perfume]"

╰ Trey Clover ♣

this handsome mf almost had you groveling for him jk. you two has always been in good terms even before the whole heartslabyul fiasco, you darn nearly kneeled on one knee after he gave you a box of his divinely baked sweets. now he's the one that always supplies you snacks whenever you're at nrc campus for practice aside from jamil ofc. he admires how dedicated you are in getting all your scenes on one take. though, he wished you'd take time and eat properly, he can see how small the portion of the foods he brought you actually ate. you insists you'll eat it later but he's not having any of it. mom friend tbh.

of course he saw the video. he might not look like he uses social media daily but he does actually use it a lot more that an average person, his family's bakery has to advertise their products somehow yk?

when he came across it it didn't bother him that much. but now that he thinks about it, didn't his perfume ran out just a week ago? well maybe it's time for some replacement after all.

you'd think that trey is the kind of guy that prefers mild perfume or even something with vanilla on it, considering he always works with sweets. well he likes to subvert expectations sometimes.

════ “ What's his perfume? ”

Jo Malone, WOOD SAGE & SEA SALT

cater commented the same when it's trey's turn for the twistok trend. trey just smiled casually.

his answer to the question is, "[your perfume]" of course.

╰ Cater Diamond ♦

your bff. besties for life. he's the first one you actually really got along with, because his personality resembles a past friend of yours. you two have weekly meet ups at cute cafes or at the mall to chat and gossip about stuff. Oh sevens, mostly gossip actually. you two are the most knowledgeable with gossips and rumors that are floating around NRC and the entire internet in general. if people think their secret is safe with you, no honey, their secret is safe with you AND cater <3. you've definitely used a picture of his side profile or his back, in one of your stories and the internet almost bursted into flames at the prospect of you, the goddess amongst men dating someone. cater later dropped a short behind the scene video of you using instructing him to pose very non-celeb lover like style. the internet almost collapsed for the second time that day.

that original video has tens of millions of views on twistok, you'd have to be living in a rock or a house with bad wi-fi to have not been aware of its existence.

he's kinda chill with it on the outside, but the background of his latest magicam pictures that includes bottles of perfume and a few boxes of a certain women's perfume says otherwise.

if it's his perfume that you answered with he'd be all smug about it, even posting a story holding a full ass brand new bottle of it. but if it's not it's fine ig not, he'd feel indifferent of the matter because his own perfume is actually picked and gifted to him by you <3.

════ “ What's his perfume? ”

Chanel, PLATINUM EGOISTE

immediately did the trend a day after the video of you doing it was uploaded. he's bummed that he didn't get to do the trend with you first though.

he'd mysteriously winked at the camera after answering, "[your perfume] girls are goddesses, y'all are drop dead gorgeous <3."

╰ Deuce Spade ♠

this doofus is a part of yuu's gang of idiots of course you two are close! you treat him like your little brother at times ouch. deuce often tags along yuu when he visits your sets, he'd only ever seen your neat and crisp appearance when you're in NRC uniform so imagine his gobsmacked face when he saw your disheveled appearance on set (you have to play a captured hostage). he almost called crewel because he knows that his professor would definitely fly into a rage if he saw his precious daughter covered in dirt and soot, ... yuu had to explain to him while you died laughing in the corner. he definitely teared up when he finally saw you acting out a gut wrenching scene for your character. deuce has always believed that you're special beyond your lack of magical prowess and finally he has been proven right.

ace showed him a video, it has clips of the viral one of you doing the twistok trend but the poster added screenshots of the perfumes you mentioned.

if it's not his perfume that you mentioned he definitely deflated a little bit, it's fine though, his mother bought a bunch of perfumes and she gave him his perfume because it's a bundle freebie with hers.

considered changing his perfume to the one you mentioned but he took one look at his wallet and that idea was shut down immediately.

but, if you chose the perfume carolina herrera good girl, he'll definitely malfunction on the spot. because his mom told him that perfume specifically is the partner of his own.

════ “ What's his perfume? ”

Carolina Herrera, BAD BOY

when cater came up to him asking what his perfume is, he innocently answered. this poor oblivious boy..

he only realized that it's the twistok trend when he saw the video cater posted, he sulked a little bit but did not regret his answer.

he'd blink then say, "Oh, Carolina herrera I think? the pink shoe one. " quite proudly, it's his mom's perfume.

╰ Ace Trappola 🂡

both of you hated each other's guts. considering the fact that you saw him fighting grim and insulting yuu, adding that his brash personality is very much exaggerated to you by the said cat. ace is definitely the least favorite of yours in yuu's band of idiots. this mf also doesn't know how to watch his tone so when he joked about something it sounded more like an insult. but long story short you two get along the second best now. disregarding the fact that you two almost became enemies to lovers got off the wrong foot, you two usually hang out in this quiet spot near the gym whenever he has basketball practice and you need a quiet place to do script readings the tranquility of the area are only ever broken when a loud screeching from floyd would ring from inside the gym.

yeah, yeah, he's seen it. heck! practically everyone has. he'd always be enchanted by your smell but now he knows what perfume to gift you once you ran out of a bottle <3

he'd act so nonchalant about it you wouldn't notice he'd subtly try to change his perfume however like deuce, he took a look at his savings and it said 'nope'!

he'll be a smug fucker if you said his perfume's name tho

════ “ What's his perfume? ”

Killian, BLACK PHANTOM

he'd blinked whe cater said the question while simultaneously shoving his phone to his face, then he smirks smugly and say,

"[your perfume], of course" while looking straight to the camera, as if talking to someone.

you're very loved by Heartslabyul, darling! Make sure to not forget to drop by sometimes very soon! they just miss you so much, your busy schedule be damned there will be an unbirthday party next week make sure to wear your best dress, beloved Alice! ~

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the-daily-dreamer · 5 months ago

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The thing about the breakdown of the Rhaenicent relationship that is talked about but I think is still severely overlooked is the key role that both girls/women (specifically Rhaenyra) play in its destruction.

Because the fandom focuses in on this narrative that the relationship broke down solely because of the ambitions of men. And aside from that fueling the annoying idea that all women are inherently passive victims that suffer because men are ambitious and violent, it’s simply wrong.

While the catalyst was certainly Otto’s ambition and Viserys’s weakness (and perversion), Rhaenyra and Alicent’s relationship truly breaks down because of Rhaenyra’s entitlement, self-serving nature, and inability to see outside of herself and her experiences and Alicent’s (in my opinion reasonable) reactions toward this over time.

The beginning of the break down comes from Otto forcing Alicent to comfort the king and Viserys knowing his desire for her is wrong and forcing her to keep quiet about their visits until he decides to marry her without her prior knowledge or consent. And Rhaenyra (and the fandom) sees this as the ultimate betray against her by Alicent. Rhaenyra holds more resentment against Alicent for the engagement than she does against her father. Why is this? Some might say that it’s because she’s closer with Alicent and therefore would expect more from her than her father (whose relationship with her has been broken by the murder death of her mother). But I don’t think that’s fully the case.

While Rhaenyra having a higher expectation of Alicent may be a reason for her increased and unequal resentment, I think the main reason is that Rhaenyra cannot fathom Alicent could do this because she has never been in this position. Rhaenyra sees this as Alicent being complicit in the deceit and seduction because Rhaenyra would simply rebel. She can’t understand why Alicent wouldn’t simply say “no” to her father or betray the king for her. Rhaenyra’s world view is very blinded by her privilege. She simply thinks Alicent should and could defy her own father because…Rhaenyra has and will again. Rhaenyra is able to disobey her father and get away with it so why can’t Alicent? Ignoring the fact that a crown princess has vastly more power than the daughter of the hand, Viserys is a weak and compliant parent compared to Otto’s manipulative and stern nature. It’s easy for Rhaenyra to disobey because the consequences are either nonexistent or very mild. Alicent doesn’t have this luxury and privilege but Rhaenyra can’t conceive of it.

But also, Rhaenyra sees her father as…her dad. Not the king. Rhaenyra sees it as easy to defy him and his orders because he is her father first and her king second. But for Alicent that is the king. The most powerful man in the world. Defying him could have disastrous consequences for her and her father. But because Rhaenyra doesn’t force herself to see things from another’s perspective, she doesn’t see it as Alicent being beholden to the man who could (if he wanted to) ruin her family or kill her and her father but rather her friend not betraying her dad.

After this we see Alicent be the one to continuously try to extend an olive branch and support Rhaenyra behind the scenes. Asking for Rhaenyra to have the option to choose who she marries (a privilege and kindness Alicent, herself, and every other woman in this universe hasn’t had). Reaffirming Rhaenyra as the right choice for heir when Viserys is questioning his decisions. Defending Rhaenyra against rumors that would damage her reputation. And all Alicent gets in return is snark, anger, and lies (leading to Alicent’s isolation and suffering in court).

Which leads to event two that breaks the relationship: Rhaenyra’s entitled behavior and lying. Alicent spends a great deal of her time coinciding her husband in favor of Rhaenyra. But Rhaenyra, seeing herself as exceptional and above the rules, continuously acts out in ways that hurt her standing. Most especially with her decision to go out and try to sleep with daemon and then pushing Criston to sleep with her.

Alicent is the one to be transparent with Rhaenyra about the “rumor” to get her side. Something Viserys would simply not care enough to do. Rhaenyra, knowing her actions being confirmed would be disastrous, tells half truths to Alicent who is all too eager to believe and support her friend. Even worse, she uses the memory of her mother, something she knows Alicent holds incredibly sacred, to further convince Alicent that she’s telling the truth. And this decision by Rhaenyra to lie (over something she knows Alicent holds dear and has used multiple times to try to connect with her) to protect herself directly harms Alicent as her father and only ally in court is kicked out and ostracized. But that’s not Rhaenyra’s concern. While Alicent has given a lot of effort to protect and defend Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra is far too focused on her on wishes and desires to care about the impacts her choices have on anyone else.

And that’s why when Alicent finds out that it was a lie, a lie that got her father taken away from her, she goes full scorched earth and wears the green dress. Because she realizes that Rhaenyra will never stop being entitled and self-serving. She realizes that all this time and effort she has put into fixing things with Rhaenyra and defending her is completely one sided. Because Rhaenyra can only see things from her perspective and can only see things based on how she can benefit even to the detriment of others (herself, her father, Criston, etc.).

Then the final nail in the coffin is the birthing of bastards. At this point Alicent has had her eyes opened to how Rhaenyra will do as she pleases without considering the consequences (to herself and others) and then she watches Rhaenyra flagrantly birth obvious bastard after obvious bastard, pushing the children she was forced to have further and further down the line of succession behind kids who objectively should not have the throne. And it makes her bitter and jealous and as she should be. The fandom is too obsessed with marking Alicent as the reason the relationship was destroyed because she was unnecessarily jealous of poor Rhaenyra who was just so brave to do as she pleased!

But it’s a spit in the face to Alicent. That Alicent was pimped out and forced the have children with a man she didn’t love at the ripe old age of 15 hole Rhaenyra is free to take a lover and birth obvious bastards and get away with it. She has every right to be angry. Not because she thinks all women should be submissive and bend to patriarchy. Because she is watching how privileged Rhaenyra is before her very eyes while she was forced to suffer the way almost every other woman has.

While I acknowledge that Viserys and Otto are the catalyst for the breakdown of Rhaenyra and Alicent’s relationship. Rhaenyra’s flagrant disregard for others and her entitlement are what truly break the relationship until Alicent is no longer willing to be submissive and accepting of Rhaenyra’s behavior. And this in turn, causes her to make choices that service her and her children. The way Rhaenyra has always done and always will.

The breakdown of rhaenicent was always inevitable regardless of which men were involved. Because at their core, Rhaenyra would always put herself first and Alicent would always come to the realization she is no longer willing to be a doormat.

#this was so long #and idk if it makes sense #all I’m saying is that Rhaenyra and Alicent would always fall out #because Rhaenyra is incapable of seeing past herself #and eventually Alicent was always bound to get sick of the entitlement #house of the dragon #game of thrones #team green #anti team black #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti rhaenyra #anti rhaenicent #alicent hightower #pro alicent hightower #alicent hightower defense squad

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ghostgirl-22 · 12 days ago

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Patrick wearing lingerie with Tashi….

So… this turned into kink really fast I fear. Sorry if this isn’t what you wanted anon 😞

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Toys, mention of spanking, pegging and mild daddy kink. In addition to what it says on the tin

—-

Patrick’s still trying to dig into their lives. Get into every aspect so they can’t take him out again. Arts not home for a week, and Patrick’s wearing his clothes everyday... Is how it’s going. Sometimes wears his underwear, tight little briefs. Art is just a bit smaller than him, thighs, arms…cock. He’s filled out though. A lot. Patrick gets hard when he thinks about it.

Art’s on a ski trip with the whole Donaldson family and Lily. He isn’t ready to say to his parents and sisters and in laws that Patrick likes to sleep in bed with him and his wife. Art doesn’t say Patrick shouldn’t come but they all know he shouldn’t. And Patrick can’t be alone. Patrick doesn’t say he can’t be alone. But they all know he can’t.

So Tashi stays at home. She’s is happy for the excuse not to go…“I’ve got company in town.” Tashi explains, oh so regrettable that she can’t make it. She doesn’t tell them it’s Patrick or Arts mom would’ve made them both come.

So they’re home alone in a lavish townhouse. He’s showered in their bathroom and he’s digging through Arts clothes for something to wear. And all hidden away in the back there’s this garter and tights. Patrick fishes them out. He leaves the walk-in closet and Tashi’s in bed watching some housewives show and painting her nails. Hair loosely pinned up, in an oversized hoodie and short shorts. She looks so pretty it’s unreal. She doesn’t even have to try.

“Where’s the rest of this? I need you to try it on for me.” Patrick demands, holding up the tights.

She looks up, eyes narrowed and then her expression changes to one of amusement. “Where’d you find that?”

“In the back of Arts underwear drawer.”

“You know…” she goes back to painting her nails, “the clothes I get. But you’re insane for wearing his underwear.”

“I’d wear yours if they fit,” Patrick smirks.

She looks up at him again, still amused but something else is there. Patrick can read her like a book. He walks closer, towel wrapped loosely around his waist. “What?” He asks softly.

She bites her lip. “Those are Art’s.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah… it’s a whole set. Pink, satiny or something. It should be in there.”

“Wait…” Patrick starts because he’s actually having a slight mental breakdown. “You mean he wore pink satin, tights and a garter belt and—and pink satin?

“Don’t have a stroke,” Tashi smirks.

“Fuck,” Patrick groans.

“It was like… forever ago. Halloween. A friend from Stanford took us to a drag night. He was freaking out about what to wear. I bought him that but it was too… revealing. He just wore a dress instead.”

“Too revealing?”

“Yeah… actually you should try it on,” Tashi says, carefully. “Check the bottom drawer, towards the back. I think the gown is in there.”

“You think?” Patrick asks, staring at her a moment longer. She’s looking back at him, those pretty brown eyes dilating in real time, he’s obsessed with her. “Bottom drawer?”

“Mmhm,” she says. “It might fit perfectly.”

Patrick smirks and goes back in the closet. The gown is a tiny, entirely see through number. He drops his towel and pulls it over his head. It’s so smooth… satiny and sheer. Tight on his waist, loose in the chest cause he doesn’t have tits. He’s looking at himself in the full length mirror, he’s got hair everywhere that Art is smooth. He doesn’t bother with the tights for that reason.

He does pull on the satin panties, and that is comical, trying to tuck himself into them. His balls and cock are fighting for space. He turns to look at himself from the side. The frills barely fall below his ass. He could just bend over the slightest bit and he’s exposed. He feels his dick starting to swell, sees it in the mirror.

“Did you find it?” Tashi calls from the bedroom.

“Uh huh,” Patrick replies.

Seeing it on himself, all Patrick can think about is Art’s body, the pink stretched over his chest, the skirt not even long enough to hide his ass, or his cock. Patrick with easy access to both. God, he rubs himself just a little as he imagines it. He wants to call Art right now. “Hey Tashi?” He calls.

“Yeah,” she’s closer now. He turns as she enters the closet, slowly taking him in.

“Do I look pretty?” He asks.

She smirks and then cups his nipples. “Pretty as a princess. Wanna give daddy a kiss?”

Patrick laughs. “And you’re daddy?”

“I am when you’re in that pretty dress,” she says playfully pinching his ass. He grins and looks up before gazing back at her and leaning in to kiss her mouth.

”Good girl,” she sighs against his lips.

“Mm, daddy. You ever peg him in this?” Patrick asks.

“I wish, he would’ve absolutely freaked out. I fingered him once while we were fucking… he came so fast he had an existential crisis,” she sighs, working her thumbs idly over his nipples. Patrick takes a breath, he’s sensitive there and the feeling of her fingers and the satin is crazy. Patrick can understand how Art got off so quickly.

“So you expect me to believe he wore this… and there were no consequences?”

She shrugs and walks her finger tips down his waist. “Well… I spanked him.” She says smiling.

“Say more,” Patrick says, curling one of the stray hairs behind her ear.

“I made him bend over the bathroom sink and I told him daddy was gonna spank him. And then I did it. His ass got so red.” She reaches the panties and slides her fingers over the swell of his cock as she looks at him, her eyes all shiny.

“Fuck, seriously?” He breathes, dizzy as she teases him.

“Mmhm. He got so hard. I’d never seen him like that before. Made me wish I had a dick so I coulda fucked him.”

He cradles her face between his hands, “you can fuck me daddy,” he says, softly.

“Yeah?” She says and she leans in and kisses him. It’s more chaotic. He’s walking her back and then she’s resisting, then pushing him back against the mirror.

“You’re so slutty… can’t even hide it from me,” Tashi says, pushing him back hard and gripping his cock. “I can see everything when you wear that for me.”

Patrick sighs. He can’t help but imagine her talking this way to her husband. Tries to imagine how he’d react.

“I just want your dick,” Patrick says, he’s eager and It’s what Art might say to him.

“I know you do,” Tashi smiles. “I actually have one. Stay there. Don’t touch.” She says.

Patrick lingers in the closet. He’s looking at himself again. Skin flushing, he’s tenting the panties, they were barely doing anything to keep him in before, now he might as well be wearing nothing. He rubs the fabric, continuing where Tashi left off with his nipples. Tashi comes back moments later and she’s got a dildo.

“No strap?” Patrick smirks.

“I’ll get it for your birthday,” she says pushing him up against the glass so she can fuck him with it. It’s slick with lubricant and she’s easing it inside. Panties still on.

“I can take more than that daddy.” Patrick teases.

“Can you pretty girl? You’re gonna come all over your pretty dress.” Tashi says softly. And Patrick sorta regrets saying anything, because moments later she’s ramming into his prostate relentlessly. He almost feels his knees buckle after he spurts come all over the glass in one of the most sudden and intense orgasms he’s ever had. He gets on his knees anyway, she drops the dildo and he grabs her by the waist.

“Does he say thank you?” Patrick says, breathlessly.

“He’s very polite.” She smiles, fingers tangling into his hair.

Patrick tugs her shorts and panties down and licks his “thank you daddy” into the wet heat of her cunt.

#challengers fic #challengers smut #patrick zweig smut #tashi duncan smut #Tashi Donaldson smut #patashi

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thelifeofchuckmovie · 5 months ago

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When it comes to ending the world, Stephen King is a repeat offender. He has brought life as we know it to a brutal conclusion several times over the decades, usually highlighting the cruelty and desperation that erupts among the last to go. But his 2020 story “The Life of Chuck” uses doomsday to evoke some unlikely sentiments: Wistfulness. Gratitude. Even joy.

The idea of creating an apocalyptic version of It’s a Wonderful Life is what led filmmaker Mike Flanagan to call dibs on the rights to the novella more than four years ago. The breakdown of society, extinction-level natural disasters, and the disintegration of reality itself is explored through the lens of one relatively meek and mild accountant, played by Tom Hiddleston, whose memories and choices are mysteriously connected to these tribulations. Retirement posters congratulating him on “39 great years” pop up everywhere. But who is this guy? What job does he do (or did he used to do)? And why does it matter so much to the fate of the world? This apparent nobody named Chuck Krantz has lived larger than anyone thought possible.

Having explored King country before in 2017’s Gerald’s Game and 2019’s The Shining sequel Doctor Sleep, Flanagan got involved after reading an early copy of “Chuck” before it was published in the collection If It Bleeds. The Haunting of Hill House and Fall of the House of Usher creator produced the film independently, believing it might be too offbeat for risk-averse studios to greenlight. He even secured a waiver from the striking Hollywood guilds last year to move forward with the shoot while the rest of the industry was stuck in the work stoppage. Now he and Hiddleston are ready to reveal the finished version of The Life of Chuck as it heads to the upcoming Toronto International Film Festival, where it will screen for potential distributors.

Among the skeptics about this adaptation was King himself, according to Flanagan. “His initial responses to me were a little like, ‘Oh, okay. Yeah. If you think that’s a movie…,’” he says. “He did say several times that he thought it would be a challenge to get it supported through traditional means.”

King has now seen the finished movie and no longer has doubts. He described it to Vanity Fair as “a happiness machine.”

“Well, he’s written something very tender and very wise,” Hiddleston says. “I think there is a great wisdom in the soul of the story, which is that it takes courage to hold on to what is good in a world that feels like it’s falling apart.”

Flanagan hopes others see it that way too, although the overpowering dread that begins the story may be more immediately relatable. “I’ve heard it said that every generation feels a little like the world is ending at some point, [but] I still feel like it’s different for us,” the 46-year-old filmmaker says with a mordant laugh. “Institutions we took for granted as propping up our society are failing left and right. Our politics have degraded spectacularly. The sense that it’s breaking down, that the world is moving on, has been increasingly palpable. When I talk to my parents or members of older generations who have been through their own turbulent times, the thing that strikes me is that they’re like, ‘Oh yeah, this is really bad.’”

But…it’s not entirely bad. And that’s the underlying message of The Life of Chuck as its various mysteries play out. “There’s no sense of terror in the way that King drew it,” Flanagan says. “Even as the world feels as though it’s ending, people become introspective, they reach into their past for loves that have left their lives for one reason or another. Strangers engage in open and fearless communication.”

It’s an indie-film variation on the big-budget cataclysm story. “A disaster movie has people meeting the end while running from tidal waves, and this story has people sitting quietly holding hands looking at the stars,” Flanagan says.

The key to it all is Chuck himself, although he doesn’t turn up onscreen until the second segment of the three-act story, which plays out in reverse chronological order.

The beginning is actually the end, as the whole world circles the drain. Caught in this spiral is Chiwetel Ejiofor (12 Years a Slave), a school teacher trying to apply logic to the planet’s troubles; Karen Gillan (Guardians of the Galaxy) is his ex, a hospital worker determined to save everyone she can; Matthew Lillard (Scream) is a construction worker neighbor who finds zen amid the chaos; and Carl Lumbly (Alias), plays a funeral director who has dedicated his life to easing people through death.

The end of the movie is actually the beginning, showing young Chuck (Benjamin Pajak) when he was a boy being raised by his grandparents (Mia Sara of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Mark Hamill). The insight of these two—coupled with the otherworldly revelations he finds in an eerie room tucked into the peak of their Victorian home—help him learn to seek out bright spots when life is marred by sorrow and darkness.

In elementary school, young Chuck discovers some important things about himself thanks to guidance from a brusque dance instructor (Samantha Sloyan), and a kindhearted English teacher, played by Kate Siegel, who gives the boy (not to mention the audience) some important information that serves as a code breaker for the story's more cosmic puzzles.

As for the middle of the film: It’s a dance number. That’s when Hiddleston steps in.

Compounding the peculiarity of The Life of Chuck is the question: Why is this song and dance sequence so important? The answer is for the movie to reveal, but it matters a lot. “The life of every human being is a constellation, as expressed in this film,” Hiddleston says. “There are certain moments which will burn most brightly as individual stars. Sometimes it feels like the world is going to hell in a handcart, and it’s full of pain and suffering, and it is—but there are moments of deep joy and deep connection.”

Hiddleston shows the audience this single moment in the life of a buttoned-up fellow who somehow controls the destiny of the world. It’s not necessarily the most important day in his life, but it’s a memorable one involving a street drummer (Taylor Gordon), a lovely stranger (played by Annalise Basso), and a fateful decision to cast aside caution and cut a rug. “It’s a reminder to do whatever it is that expresses whatever gives you that feeling of being alive,” Hiddleston says. “Whether it’s music or dancing or math or writing or creativity—do it. Do it now. Those moments are what you’ll remember.”

Flanagan considered casting a relative unknown as Chuck to “give the audience the experience of ‘Who the hell is this person?’” as the peculiar retirement signs begin to appear in the midst of the apocalypse. But he felt the promise of the Loki star would build more curiosity as the world falls apart. “You grow an enormous amount of anticipation to finally spend time with an actor like Tom, who can be a literal god in one story, and then an everyman in another,” Flanagan says.

A TikTok video of Hiddleston getting his groove on sealed the deal. “He had a completely unfiltered joy on his face,” Flanagan says. “He was a good dancer, but that wasn’t what struck me. I wasn’t amazed by the technique so much as the degree of happiness that was radiating off of him. The look on his face made me smile the same way I smiled reading that particular portion of the book.”

The resulting scene was created in a month-long collaboration between Flanagan, Hiddleston, Basso, choreographer Mandy Moore (So You Think You Can Dance, and La La Land), and Gordon, a real-life percussionist who performs under the name the Pocket Queen. “Taylor was there for all of the dance choreography. She wrote that piece of music for that performance. They built it together,” Flanagan says.

Hiddleston rattles off the lists of influences: “I had to learn in six weeks the full regime of any dance training. We did jazz, swing, salsa, cha-cha, the Charleston, bossa nova, polka, quickstep, samba. We were trying to tip our hat to anything that might have influenced Chuck. It might’ve had a bit of Gene Kelly or Fred and Ginger. Certainly moonwalking—Stephen King is very specific about the moonwalk.”

Precision was not the goal, exuberance was what they sought. “We need to always bear in mind that this man is an accountant. We needed this to be an earnest, escalating explosion of joy, and a remembrance of who he was,” Flanagan says. “It’s a chance to step back into the skin of his younger self, not caring that his feet are going to kill him the next day, not caring that he’s going to wake up with a horribly stiff neck.”

A surprising thing happened while shooting the scene over the course of several sweltering afternoons in the deep South. “I burned holes in my shoes,” Hiddleston says. “I was dancing out on the asphalt in Alabama, and by the time we’d finished, you could see my socks through the soles.”

The sequence begins awkwardly: Chuck is self-conscious as he first hears the busker’s rhythm while walking back from a banking conference. That feeling quickly gets shaken off. “Tom was very committed,” Flanagan says. “He was like, ‘If I look silly, that’s fine. As long as I look happy.’”

Flanagan remembers being in a bad place when he first discovered “The Life of Chuck.” Then again, everybody was.

His copy of the manuscript arrived in March 2020. “That was just as the world shut down for COVID,” he says. “We had been a week away from starting principal photography on Midnight Mass in Vancouver and had fled across the border before it closed to make it back to the States. We were hunkered down in our homes and had no idea if this was going to last for two weeks or if this was going to last forever.”

With everything halted as the lockdown set in, Flanagan had plenty of time to do nothing but read. The new King book seemed like the perfect escape. Except…

“The first third of ‘The Life of Chuck’ just rattled me,” he recalls. “There’s no way he wrote this before the world ground to this bizarre halt—but he did. And the feeling of anxiety, and uncertainty, and that everything was falling apart came roaring out at me. I wasn’t sure I could finish it. It just felt too close to the anxiety I was feeling.” But he kept turning the pages. “By the end of it, I was in tears, and incredibly uplifted, and convinced I’d read maybe the best thing that he’d written in a decade. I just was floored by the thing,” Flanagan says. “So I fired off an email to him right away saying how much I loved the story, how incredible I thought it was, how meaningful, and important, and how it had really tattooed itself on my heart and said, ‘It’s the movie I want to make so that it’ll exist in the world for my kids.’”

King’s response: Not so fast. Flanagan and his producing partner, Trevor Macy, had at that point secured the rights to King’s fantasy saga The Dark Tower through their company, Intrepid Pictures. The eight-book series is threaded throughout King’s other works, and adapting it was a massive undertaking that Flanagan is still working to make happen. Other filmmakers had either abandoned the project, were canceled midway through, or bombed miserably. The author didn’t want him to be distracted. “He doesn’t like to give the same filmmaker more than one thing, because it typically means one thing is not advancing at all,” Flanagan says. “He said, ‘Well, let’s focus on The Tower and I’ll try to keep this one available for you for later.’”

The quest to The Dark Tower remains a priority for Flanagan, but a number of disruptions to that epic undertaking led him to reapproach King last year about Chuck. Intrepid’s deal with Netflix, where they had created Hill House, The Haunting of Bly Manor, and other shows, had come to a close, and Intrepid signed a new development agreement with Amazon. That meant starting over on The Dark Tower. Meanwhile, the threat of a double-barreled strike by writers and actors was on the horizon, stalling nearly every major new project. The industry plunged into another production-halting lockdown, this time over contract impasses rather than a virus.

Since The Dark Tower was suddenly further off on the horizon, Flanagan saw a chance to make The Life of Chuck happen in the short term. “It’s so rare that I get to approach any project that just has not an ounce of cynicism to it. I just really believed in this thing,” he says. “But it was also clear that we would have an incredibly uphill battle bringing the story to any major studio. They would try to make it as familiar as possible, instead of leaning into what makes it so different.”

King gave Flanagan his blessing to proceed. “I was off like a shot,” the filmmaker says. “I think I turned in the draft to him before he got around to sending the formal agreement.”

For everyone involved, The Life of Chuck became a bright spot in an otherwise dismal time, which matches the theme of the film. “There is a profound optimism in this story,” Hiddleston says. “As the world is spinning off its axis, there are moments of magic.”

#the life of chuck #tom hiddleston #mark hamill #karen gillan #chiwetel ejiofor #jacob tremblay #kate siegel #mike flanagan #carl lumbly

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ddarker-dreams · 1 month ago

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omg i love your yandere giorno series!! I was wondering if you could write a little thing where giorno witnesses his darling having a lowkey mental breakdown/epiphany because she realizes she’s in love with him? sorta like expanding on the little moments in the other fics where reader questions her feelings for him. and she just confesses to him that it’s so hard to accept what he’s done but she can’t help but love him

i'd recently been wanting to expand on the scarlet ribbons yandere bad endings and this meshes well with a christmas-y idea i had 👁👁

This time of year packs your schedule to the brim.

Being the wife of Don Giovanna comes with its unique obligations, which you once stumbled through with the naïveté of a newborn doe. Time and difficult lessons sanded away your inexperience. These trials weren't unlike those he'd undergone since ousting Diavolo, reality proving itself a stubborn foe against youthful idealism.

After what felt like ages apart, he reunites with you in the evening, where he notes some unusual behavior.

For starters, you're eerily silent. While he's no stranger to you giving him the cold shoulder, it's never without reason, like when he restricts your travel for citing security concerns. He can't recall doing anything to earn your ire. If anything, you'd been uncharacteristically amicable recently, regarding him as a collaborator rather than your warden.

Natale was almost like an armistice. You get to engage in charitable pursuits, while he oversees their seedy underbelly. Ultimately, everything is about business, image, and prestige. He doesn't insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise.

It's when you (and your conspicuous Stand) sneak a glance his way for the third time that he speaks up.

"Is something troubling you?"

He could whittle away at your defenses over an extensive campaign, but, feeling the day's exhaustion weigh him down, he opts for a direct approach. You consider him, your Stand peering over your shoulder with suspicious eyes.

"... Your meeting went long," you comment.

He nods, sensing that you're getting at something. When you refuse to elaborate, he offers to show his hand.

"There were some mild disagreements," Giorno replies. "They've been put to rest."

"If what I suggested is causing tension—"

You cut yourself off when he sits beside you on the loveseat, leaving little room between your persons. It's an unusual line for him to cross. He rarely infringes upon your physical space, owing to a courteous code of conduct that you struggled to comprehend. He thinks you want him to be terrible; a cartoonish villain that you could pour all your energy into resisting.

"I'll see it through," he reassures, the tenderness in his voice reserved solely for your ears. "I think the scholarship program is an admirable idea. The funds are there, it's simply a matter of ironing out the details."

You shuffle around. "It's not a lucrative venture."

"That's inconsequential."

"I'm sure your Capos feel otherwise."

"They can be shortsighted," Giorno argues. "And they don't have the final say — I do."

"That's..." you trail off, gnawing your bottom lip, "Why are you so...?"

Giorno, realizing that he's approaching the heart of the issue, can't let this chance go. He sees you contemplating retreat, as you cross your arms over your chest and squeeze your lips shut. If he were a fully benevolent man, he'd grant you your reprieve. Maybe he'll come to regret pushing you too far. Nonetheless, you are his vice, and even he can't always suppress his selfish yearning.

"So...?" he encourages, nearly crooning the word.

You shake your head. "I never know how to feel about you. Hating you used to come easy, now it's just... pointless. Impossible. I don't know. Sometimes, I think I might even lo—"

Aghast, you slap your hand over your mouth, cutting yourself off.

For his part, Giorno wasn't expecting such a vulnerable admission to nearly slip out. Not wanting to push his luck, he leans back, allowing you some space. You appear to be in deep thought. Your Stand has since dissipated, leaving you truly alone.

It's then that he recalls one of the final requests Bucciarati made of him:

"Please ensure her safety and happiness in my stead."

In the years that have followed, the latter has proven trickier than the former.

His hand finds yours. You jump, snapping your head in his direction, shock rippling across your countenance. He responds by giving your hand a firm squeeze. You don't reciprocate, nor do you pull away. Instead, you stare at where your bodies are joined, almost in a trance.

Giorno feels the cool band of your wedding ring flush against his skin. You made efforts in the past to be rid of it, though his Stand's ability ensured it'd always find its way back to you. He wonders at what point you decided to abandon that little rebellion.

Perhaps the revelations surfacing tonight have something to do with it.

Eventually, you exhale a shaky breath. "All this planning has me worn out. I'm not thinking straight. So please... forget I said anything."

And because he cares for you above all else, he nods, prolonging the farce you've both been cast the leads in.

#yandere giorno x reader #jjba x reader #yandere x reader #my stuff #scarlet ribbons #answered #Anonymous

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imsuperhungry · 3 months ago

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4 𝙖𝙢 (entry 005)

"𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨,

𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨"

WARNINGS: Mild Yandere Themes, Cussing, Mentions Of Blood, Mental Breakdown, I made reader sound kinda weak here...

WORD COUNT: 2202

(11:34, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʙɪɴ)

You could hardly distinguish whether the violent shivering that seized your body stemmed from the merciless bite of the wind or the crushing weight of the news Ashley had just unleashed upon you. All that mattered now was the desperate journey back to the cabin—where, despite the unsettling truth that clung to you like a shadow, the familiar embrace of warmth would provide a fleeting, comforting illusion of safety

When Ashley and Chris told you about Josh’s death, it felt as though the world stopped in its tracks, a heavy silence pressing into the conversation. You struggled to process the crushing weight of the moment, unable to fully grasp the magnitude of your situation. Not only had you lost the two girls you had come to think of as sisters over the years, but now, you had lost your “brother” as well.

Ashley’s panicked rambling continued after she told you about Josh’s death, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. Your mind was too consumed with thoughts of him. Josh—he had lost both of his biological sisters, and now, he had died on the same mountain as them. The guilt that had already been gnawing at you from the prank gone wrong with Hannah now felt like a crushing weight, multiplying with every passing second. You cursed yourself for not somehow intervening, for not magically saving Josh, even though deep down, you knew there was nothing you could have done to prevent it.

What you didn’t know was that when Matt and Emily were also informed of the killer on the mountain, something strange settled deep in their chests. It was as though a switch had flipped in both of them, a primal instinct that surged in different ways. For Emily, the feeling was overpowering, like a compulsion she couldn’t fight—a desperate, almost obsessive drive to protect you from whatever danger loomed ahead. It took hold of her quickly, like a parasite, consuming her thoughts and actions. Her sole objective was clear: get you out, and damn everyone else.

Matt’s reaction, though similarly intense, was more complicated. Along with the protective instinct, there was an undercurrent of something darker—a twisted excitement. Of course, the deaths of your friends should have been a cause for grief, not something to feel exhilarated about, but Matt couldn’t suppress the feeling that protecting you, being your knight in shining armor, might somehow redeem him in ways he hadn’t fully admitted to himself. And as the realization sank in, an internal, wicked grin spread across his face.

Matt quickly wiped the grin from his face, the reality of the situation crashing down on him. There was no time to waste.

You snapped out of your trance and turned to Emily, suddenly aware of the tears streaming down your face. You hadn’t even noticed them until the cold liquid trickled down your neck, the weight of everything finally breaking through.

You gripped Emily's shoulders tightly, desperate to make her understand the urgency in your voice. "Em— we, fuck... we have to find the others!" Your words were strained, the weight of everything pressing down on you. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing anyone else. The weeks you’d spent in bed, drowning in grief over Hannah and Beth’s deaths, had already broken you. You couldn’t go through that again—couldn’t handle another loss, not like this.

She rolled her eyes as she placed her hands atop of yours. “Mike and Jess are off 69’ing each other, and only god knows where Sam is.”

Her words confused you. Where was the urgency? You turned to where Matt, Chris, and Ashley stood, expecting to see the same desperation on their faces, but to your bewilderment, none of them seemed particularly keen on finding the others. It was as though the gravity of the situation hadn’t quite sunk in for them, or worse—they simply didn't care.

“She might be in the lodge!” you said, turning back to Emily, your voice sharp with urgency.

You locked eyes with her, and for a moment, it felt like the weight of everything was there between you. God damn it, how could she say no?

She felt the familiar rush of guilt flood through her, remembering the dumb prank, the one that still haunted her. She remembered the frantic voicemail attempts, her calls going unanswered, and the sick feeling in her stomach as she drove to your house, only to find your phone left forgotten in another room, the tear stains on your walls and, most painfully, your face. It hit her like a punch to the gut. She knew why you were crying—everyone did. Ever since the police had announced the girls as missing, no one had heard from you for weeks.

And now, here you were, pleading with her to help, as if there was any other choice.

With reluctance, Emily finally nodded, agreeing to help. She could see the panic in your eyes, the raw desperation, and it tugged at something deep inside her. The sight of you in any kind of pain—whether mental or physical—made her stomach turn, like a sickness she couldn’t shake. She hated seeing you like this, hated that it was even happening.

“Fine…” she starts “Fine, you’re right, but if there really is some maniac running around killing people on this mountain, we need to get help.”

And just like that, a weight was lifted off your chest. The situation was still bleak, the darkness of it all hanging over you like a storm cloud, but something shifted. You knew searching for the others would be harrowing—nothing short of dreadful—but with Emily by your side, there was a sliver of hope, however small.

Matt, however, was still uncertain about the situation. While the "knight in shining armor" fantasy still played out vividly in his mind, a darker, more protective side of him gnawed at him. He hated the idea of you being in any form of danger—whether it was something as trivial as a tiny paper cut or something far worse, like searching for the others on a dark, freezing mountain with wild animals and a killer lurking nearby. His instincts screamed at him to keep you safe, to pull you away from it all, but he also knew he couldn’t let you go through this alone. Still, the conflict inside him was palpable, the desire to shield you fighting against his need to be the hero.

He grabbed your shoulder, his grip firm, and opened his mouth to speak. "Hey, don't you think—"

But before he could finish, Emily was quick to cut him off, her voice sharp and final. “Why are we still talking about this!? Let’s go!” she shouted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

With that, the conversation was over. No more hesitation, no more arguments. Emily turned on her heel, and without waiting for a response, she started moving. Matt followed along with her, but you decided to stay with Chris and Ashley, figuring that since they had witnessed Josh’s death, their experience might push them to be more helpful—more driven to find the others. After everything that had happened, you needed people who would act, not just follow.

Both Matt and Emily walked down the hill, their figures slowly disappearing into the frigid night, swallowed up by the darkness. You stood frozen for a moment, staring after them, the cold biting at your skin as you watched their silhouettes fade away.

A knot formed in your chest, the uneasy feeling of being separated from them weighing heavily on your mind. You didn’t know where they were going, or what their next move was, and that uncertainty gnawed at you.

Praying to whoever might be listening—if anyone at all—you silently begged that they, along with the others, would make it through this night. That somehow, by the end of it all, everyone would be safe. The thought of losing anyone else was too much to bear, and you clung to that fragile hope, even as the dark woods around you seemed to close in, relentless and unforgiving.

You were suddenly twirled around, your body spun by a pair of hands gripping you from behind. They pushed you in the opposite direction, the unexpected force taking you off balance. You would’ve been taken completely by surprise, but then you heard Chris’s voice behind you, steady and firm, and felt Ashley beside you, her presence grounding you.

"Come on," Chris urged, his grip tightening as he gently pulled you along. "We can’t waste time.”

As you began the walk, you let them push you forward, your body moving like a ragdoll, limp and heavy with sorrow. Each step felt like dragging yourself through thick mud, your mind weighed down by the thought of Josh. Josh, oh, Josh. Just being on his property—the place that had once felt like a second home—was enough to make your chest tighten with grief. It was all too much. You wanted to scream, to wail like a toddler who had been torn from something they loved, to let the tears flow freely, but you couldn’t. Not here. Not now.

You walked in silence with Chris and Ashley until you reached the cabin, each step heavy, each breath colder than the last. The familiar sight of the place only deepened the ache in your chest. The second the door creaked open, you didn’t hesitate. You darted inside, your feet carrying you up the stairs before Chris or Ashley could say a word.

Without a thought, you made a beeline for the bathroom—the one you last remembered Sam entering for her bath. The door was ajar, the space still smelling faintly of soap and steam, though the warmth that had once filled it was now long gone.

You stood there for a moment, taking in the empty room, the silence settling around you like a suffocating weight. The bathtub, still wet from Sam’s last use, felt like a dagger driven deep into your chest.

You pulled yourself together, your breath shaky, and sauntered out of the bathroom, moving aimlessly through the cabin. You passed by the guest rooms, pausing at the second bathroom, and then forced yourself into Hannah and Beth’s rooms. You’d sworn to yourself that you wouldn’t enter either of them tonight—not after everything.

Hannah’s room was eerily untouched, her belongings scattered in the same way they had been before the prank. Beth’s room, though, was different. The bed was unmade, the scent of her perfume still faint in the air, and it all felt so painfully real.

Sam was gone.

It became too much for your body to handle. The suffocating grief, the weight of all the loss, had exhausted you in a way you couldn’t describe—a new, unfamiliar kind of emptiness that left you hollowed out, barely able to breathe. Sam, Josh, Hannah, Beth... The names echoed in your mind like a cruel chant, and somewhere deep inside, you almost wished you could be next. Just to escape this endless cycle of pain.

Before you could stop yourself, your knees buckled, and you collapsed onto the ground, the cool wood pressing against your skin as your sobs wracked through your body. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Your chest heaved with each scratchy, ragged breath, the sound raw and broken. The sobs were too deep to stifle, too powerful to suppress. Your body shook uncontrollably, every tear that spilled feeling like a new weight added to the crushing burden you already carried.

There was no way to escape it. No way to stop. The grief, the guilt, the overwhelming sense of loss—it consumed you. It was all you could do to let the tears flow, to let the sobs shake you to your core, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the pain would eventually start to fade. But deep down, you knew it wouldn’t. Not anytime soon.

Josh’s gaze flickered through the screens, his feet propped up on the table beside the sprawling array of monitors. He watched as you began your slow descent into despair, each moment an agonizing unraveling of the person he once knew. You were like a delicate flower wilting under the relentless weight of sorrow, sobbing on the unforgiving, rough-hewn wooden floor. The sight twisted in Josh’s gut, a bitter pang of helplessness striking every chord in his body.

Faking his death had clearly left its mark on you, and in a twisted, perverse way, that fact brought him a strange sense of satisfaction. It was obvious how deeply you cared for him—your breakdown over his “death” spoke volumes—and knowing that his own feelings were returned brought him a happiness nothing else could match.

Yet, even amidst the happiness, a shadow of sadness lingered. He couldn’t bear to see you like this—none of the others who had once filled the cabin could. To him, you were his little bumblebee, and you deserved nothing less than joy, far from the weight of any negative emotions.

He reached out to you through the screen, his hand moving gently as if to stroke your hair—a fragile attempt to comfort your trembling, tear-streaked form sprawled across the floor.

“Just wait, petal, I'll be back soon.”

#mike munroe #yandere until dawn #until dawn x reader #untildawn #until dawn #emily #jessica riley #matthew taylor #josh washington #yandere #yandere x you #yandere harem #yandere x reader #yanderes

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 2 months ago

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The Arcana Drabbles: Storm Traditions

~ written for the @vesuviaweekly prompt "snuggle weather" - enjoy some found family platonic fluff! ~

-- written so that reader does not have to be romantically involved with Asra to be considered part of the family --

"Watching the storm?"

The change in view is drastic enough to give you mild whiplash. Outside, torrents of rain are battering the cobblestones as the canal rushes by. Inside, Aisha is offering you a shawl to drape around your shoulders while Salim sets a fresh pot of tea next to the incense burner on the low table. She smiles as you accept the warmth.

"Asra was like that as a child, too. Always observing every new detail. We used to say that he would memorize the stars if he let him stay out late enough."

Salim laughs from the tea table. "Some things never change. Did you see him in the marketplace yesterday? I thought he was about to dismantle that poor new merchant's cart!"

You can't help but smile. Watching their family slowly knit back together has been a highlight of the last year. That said, this is perhaps the second or third time you've been with the older couple without Asra present, and you're a little unsure of where you fit in without that connection. There's a brief pause bordering on awkward where they share a look with each other before Salim breaks the silence.

"I'm so glad you decided to come over today and spend some time with us. Do you have a tradition of watching storms when they come in?"

You shrug. "I'm ... not sure. I might have picked that up from Asra when ... well, you know."

"Ah."

Another awkward pause. Salim scratches at his stubble sheepishly as Aisha gives him a look that says "seriously?". You pull the shawl tighter and scoot towards the tea table with a smile.

"It's okay, really. I don't mind talking about it."

"Oh, we shouldn't have brought it up -"

"In that case, where's your family?"

It's slightly hilarious to watch the breakdown in how synced they usually are. They both give each other wide-eyed "what was that??" looks, Salim absentmindedly passing you a cup of tea as Aisha sets a plate of treats down. You wrap your hands around the warm glass and shrug.

"I'm not sure. Asra knew about my aunt, but it's only been safe for him to tell me more about the past in the last year. Everyone else has been helping me search for clues - Nadia let me look at the city ledgers and census and Julian and Portia have been asking the ship crews that come in - but it's taking a while."

"If there's anything we can do -" Aisha begins,

"Yes! Anything at all -" Salim adds,

"Let us know."

You sip your tea and nod. "Thank you, I will."

"And ..." This time, it's Aisha who risks taking a relational step forward. "If you find yourself in need of a mother or father to talk to ..."

"Oh," Salim straightens, "Yes - not that we'd try to replace anybody -"

"- of course not." Aisha affirms. "But ... please, as much as you're comfortable with it. We'd love to be your family too."

You don't expect the sentiment to hit something so deep inside you, but it's hard not to tear up for a second. You nod.

"I'd like that. ... thank you."

They both light up. Aisha moves to a corner and picks out an old book from their shelf. "In that case, may we introduce you to one of our stormy weather traditions?"

Salim claps his hands, clearly caught up in the new idea. "I'll go get the powder!"

"What's the tradition?"

"May I join you?"

"Sure." You scoot to the middle of the couch. Aisha curls up next to you, tucking her feet in and showing you the cover of the elaborate story book in her lap.

"We used to do this whenever it rained. We'd all snuggle together under blankets and read stories, while we played with the pictures."

Salim reappears with a heavy quilt thrown over one shoulder and a pouch in his hand. He pulls out a pinch of sparkly powder and tosses it into the air before approaching the sofa. "May I?"

You nod and he sits down on your other side. The quilt gets spread across your laps and you find yourself cozily situated between two people absolutely delighted to dote on you.

"Now then," Aisha opens the book and passes it across your lap to Salim, "I think we should start with the one about the seesaw."

He adjusts his glasses and peers through them down at the page with a fond smile. "This one's a favorite. Ahem -"

Aisha raises her hand and the powder floating around the room seems to come alive with a subtle lavender glow. An image of a child and their parent appears, walking hand-in-hand across a grassy, hilly plain. Salim begins to read.

"Once upon a time, a giant built a playground for their little one. There was a slide, a swing set, a sand pit, and most importantly, a seesaw."

Above you, the images move and transform as the story unfolds. The storm lies forgotten behind you, Salim's voice drowning out the thunder, and Aisha's pictures lighting up the overcast room. The blanket and tea fill you with warmth. You fall into a drowsy, happy state, safe with the loving couple giving you a long-lost feeling of home.

#vesuvia weekly #snuggle weather #ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana drabble #the arcana fanfic #the arcana imagine #aisha the arcana #salim the arcana #aisha alnazar #salim alnazar

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platinumrosetail · 10 days ago

Note

Hey, back at it with another request for Genshin Impact. No crossover this time.

So this time I want to request a Furina!Reader x Neuvillette?

Furina!Reader is someone who reincarnated from our world the moment Furina was 'born' and tries desperately to keep to the plot. Basically, she has a breakdown due to stress and meets a recently reborn and very much still feral and dragony Neuvillette several years too early and well... canon goes into the trash can.

Examples being: Yandere husband Neuvillette, Furina!Reader adopting the Melusines and preventing Carole's death, Furina!Reader fostering Wriothesly because why not, oh and Neuvillette kidnaps Furina!Reader the first time he meets her and well... you can guess what happened. :)

Sorry I tried to be shorter, but I hope this works.

This is wonderful! Very interesting and love the new ideas you added into it! 😁🤩

Warning: noob author, female reader, yandere character, canon divergence a little, and others.

Character: neuvillette.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were panicking, that’s honestly all you could do considering the predicament you somehow found yourself in currently.

Said predicament was that you had somehow reincarnated into Genshin…. As furina…. And not even before one of the traveler arrives, nope! It just had to be even before furina even met neuvilette.

If your hair wasn’t already white then you would have grey hair by now from the stress you gained from reincarnating into furina….

So, you just sucked it up for now and did your best to try and go with canon with a few mild changes. But what you didn’t know was all your hard work would be thrown out the window by a certain someone soon.

You had went out to one of the beaches Fontaine had and to be alone and gather your thoughts but ended up letting out all of your frustration, stress, and worries by crying

You were unaware that you would meet someone that you loved before you reincarnated but he would be quite different to how you previously knew him.

Neuvilette or as how he actually is called in the past leviathan felt a familiar power on the bank of the beach which he calls home, he goes and investigates out of curiosity and to make sure it isn’t a threat.

He wasn’t expecting to see the hydro archon here, especially crying; her tears going into the water of the ocean which was what alerted him of her presence.

When you looked up to try and dry your tears you weren’t expecting a familiar looking man in front of you….. naked.

You squeaked, covered your eyes and looked away as if that would help as it was burned into your mind of what you saw. Your actions confused leviathan as he doesn’t know why you did it, so as to find out why he came closer making you panic as you hear water shift from him walking closer.

He leaned down to your kneeling form and took your hands away from your face. You try to focus on his face as you know it would be dangerous if you looked a bit more down, mostly to keep yourself safe as you didn’t want to pass out flustered in front of your anime crush.

Leviathan looks at the expression that you have as you looked at him; trying to keep eye contact with him though would sometimes shift for half a second.

He had a sudden thought that you needed to be his even if you were the one to have gotten his power from his past life, he still wants to have you as his…. Mate. Yes, mate sounds right, he thinks as he continues to look at you with narrowed eyes before picking you up.

You didn’t know if you were going to get killed by neuvillette or what, after all you did have his power from his previous life and he might be mad especially since this was way too early to meet him than canon so he might react differently to how he originally acted when he and furina first met so you were taken aback when he picked you up out of nowhere and started heading back into the ocean.

You had been too stunned to realize that you were being taken to his home by him; and breathing under water but you chalk that up to being the hydro archon, that you didn’t think to try and stop him, that is if you could considering he might change his mind and kill you if he isn’t planning to do that at his home.

And with that you had became his mate and wife, but to be honest you weren’t complaining as you had always dreamed of this and read fanfics about him so you guess it’s alright to indulge a little bit.

It wasn’t until a couple of weeks past that you put your foot down and told him that you were needed at Fontaine and you needed to go now. He tried to argue about it but you weren’t budging which made him reluctantly give up after you gave a compromise that thankfully he agreed upon.

You finally arrived back to Fontaine, after getting leviathan some clothes. Apparently his name was leviathan and furina gave him a nickname so as to not cause fear to fontaines people, you don’t know why that wasn’t said in the game but for now you have bigger things to worry about.

You gave leviathan the name he had in the game so the people of Fontaine won’t be as wary as they could be if you decided to keep his original name as he was known in a bad light before you brought him, thankfully only known in his dragon form so he can be in his human form for now.

Like what with the drama that started after you shared with your subjects that you were now married and was expecting a child now. After you finally settled everything about the married and having a child drama you can finally relax…..

You spoke too soon…. Right after you started relaxing you came across the melusines near their birth father’s corpse, so you did what you could only think to do, adopt them as your daughters, you hope that even though you adopted them that things would still work out, of course you made sure that Fontaine won’t have anyone bully your daughters as it would be jail time or death if they picked on your daughters for not being human like in appearance which thankfully saved Carole from what happened to her in canon.

Afterwards your son was born and then you could relax a bit, your darling husband took care of everything after that so that you could rest with luciel; the name your son was given to by both you and leviathan/neuvillette.

It’s been a year or so after your son was born and it was going great!…. Until one day your son vanished. Neither you nor neuvillette knew where luciel was and was growing worried as the day goes by. Everyone in Fontaine was in high alert until one of your daughter found him and another child together.

You recognized this child as wriosthley, and it seemed this was before he was adopted by those evil people that shouldn’t be called parents. So you adopted him and at first he was a bit skeptical as you figured he experienced many horrors that would make him feel that way and you made sure to take your time making him feel comfortable, thankfully he warmed up to all of you after you had him try tea for the first time in his life.

After some of the events from the game happened you were relaxing while playing with a cat when a disguised arlecchino attacked you. You were so distracted that you forgot this scene.

Your screams of fright was alerted to your son who wasn’t far as he had also wanted to relax as well as protect you but he was doing something that was meant to be for a second which was the golden opportunity for arlecchino to strike.

Luciel immediately sprung into action; dropping what he was holding which was a cake for you to help you relax by having something you loved to eat.

Luciel stood in front of you, protecting you from the disguised arlecchino. He didn’t have to fight her as she ran away so as to return and think more of what she should do after discovering that the gnosis wasn’t with you.

The gnosis was in your husband’s hands as you felt it was wrong to have it since it was his power in the first place. Thankfully you had a plan to take care of the prophecy.

(A/n: hope yall like it! I had fun doing this! Anyway I don’t think I have anything else to say this time so hope yall have a wonderful day/evening/night!!!)

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simplyraeblue · 4 days ago

Text

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: no smut, mild angst, cigarette smoking, Gojo can actually act like a saint, mildly inebriated reader, Uraume is lowkey intimidating, mentions of past story line

A/N: first of all… if you guys can’t tell I suck at chapter warnings and tags sometimes lol. BUT SECONDLY. I apologize for the feelings this chapter may or may not cause lol. other than that - I have nothing else to say but enjoyyyy ;) also lowkey lemme know if you all like sentences capitalized or not cause I go back and forth

index part six | part eight

part seven word count : 3,853

You felt sick. all at once, the alcohol caught up with your emotions and you felt like you were going to hurl all over the tabletop and probably poor Shoko.

As if she could sense the shift in your demeanor, her face softened. “Hey, just forget I said anything. He’s not the same person anymore, so I wouldn’t put whatever you two have on the line for something that happened in the past.”

You almost couldn’t hear her over the ringing in your ears. All this time, you’d been slowly breaking down Sukuna’s facade, thinking that the dangerous aura he exuded wasn’t truly him deep down. And to top it off, you were jealous and a little hateful towards her.

“I think I need some air.” you mumbled out, swaying as you bolted up from your seat. Shoko called out after you, but you made a beeline for the door, not wanting to risk having a breakdown at the table. You weren’t even sure if Sukuna noticed your hasty exit.

Outside, the cold air hit you like a wave, doing little to soothe the roiling in your stomach. You doubled over for a moment, hands braced on your knees as you gulped down breath after breath of the crisp night air. It was only then you realized your hands were shaking—whether from the chill or the sudden rush of emotions, you couldn’t tell.

A flicker of movement caught your eye, and you looked up to see Gojo and Geto leaning against the brick wall near the bar’s entrance, sharing a cigarette. The thin trails of smoke curled in the wind, and the neon sign overhead lit the faint grin on Gojo’s face.

“Hey,” Gojo called, his voice lowered by a tone of concern. “You alright?” He offered the cigarette pack, but you waved it away, the very idea of nicotine or more alcohol making your stomach clench.

Geto, with a quieter demeanor, tilted his head at you. “You don’t look so good.”

Understatement of the year. You could imagine the look Sukuna might give you if he came out right now, his brows furrowed with concern. The very thought made your chest tighten.

“Can—can one of you give me a ride home?” The words tumbled out before you could reconsider, your tone bordering on desperation. “I, uh, I don’t really want Sukuna to see me like this.”

Gojo and Geto exchanged a look. You saw sympathy flicker in Geto’s eyes before he exhaled a cloud of smoke, glancing around as if expecting Sukuna to appear at any moment.

“You sure?” Gojo asked carefully, lowering the cigarette from his lips. “He’ll be pissed if he finds out we just… took you without telling him.”

You swallowed, stomach churning. “Please,” you said, gripping the edge of the wall to steady yourself. “I just… I can’t deal with him right now. Not like this.”

Geto ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “Look, I’ve got a bike,” he said, but he didn’t sound entirely confident about the idea. “And only one helmet—”

Gojo cleared his throat. “I drove tonight, and I’ve been sobering up for the last hour. I can take her.” He flicked the remainder of his cigarette into the gutter, offering a faint grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

You shot him a look of relief tinged with guilt. You could already picture Sukuna’s reaction when he realized you’d left. But at this point, you couldn’t face him—couldn’t handle the onslaught of emotions, the questions, or worse, the regret in his eyes.

Geto stubbed out his cigarette. “I'll go back in,” he murmured to Gojo, “distract Sukuna if he asks.” Then he gave you a small nod of understanding before slipping back through the door, leaving you alone in the quiet alleyway with Gojo.

“Thanks,” you breathed, voice trembling as you tried to stand upright without swaying. Gojo rested a light hand on your shoulder, guiding you away from the building and toward a dark Audi parked nearby.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, opening the passenger door for you. You sank into the seat, your breath rattling in your chest, head pounding with a mix of alcohol and leftover adrenaline. As Gojo rounded the car to the driver’s side, you leaned your head back and stared at the ceiling.

For a time, neither of you spoke, the car’s engine and the soft hum of nighttime traffic filling the silence. Finally, Gojo cleared his throat.

“So…” Gojo began gently, casting you a sidelong glance, “you wanna tell me why you’re fleeing the scene like you killed someone?”

Your throat constricted, emotions warring inside you. “You probably already know,” you whispered, forcing yourself to speak above the low hum of the engine. “Shoko told me he— that he really hurt his ex.” You drew a shaky breath. “And not just break-her-heart hurt. It was… it was bad.”

Gojo’s jaw shifted. “I know what she told you,” he murmured, gaze flicking to the road. “I was around for most of it. It wasn’t pretty.”

You pressed your palms against your eyes, trying in vain to stave off the tears that threatened. The buzz of alcohol only intensified the turmoil in your mind. “I can’t stop thinking… what if he does that to me?” The words tumbled out raw and unfiltered. “Maybe not physically, but what if he ruins me emotionally? I’ve seen glimpses of how he can be.”

Gojo gave a low sigh. “Look, I'm not excusing what happened back then. Sukuna was in a bad place. He hurt her more than he ever wanted to admit—hell, he nearly tore himself apart because of it.” He paused at a red light, turning to face you fully. “But that was then. He’s not that person anymore.”

“You sound so sure,” you said, voice trembling. “How can you be?”

“I’ve known him a long time,” Gojo replied, easing the car forward again when the light turned green. “He’s not magically all better, but he’s different now—wiser, maybe. He regrets a lot of what he did.” Another glance at you. “I’ve also seen how he looks at you, how he tries to tone himself down around you. That’s not the Sukuna from before.”

Despite the reassurance, a lump still clogged your throat. “Why didn’t he tell me?” you asked softly, voice cracking on the last word. “I feel like I’ve been opening up to him, trusting him, and now… God, I just feel stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Gojo insisted, his tone surprisingly tender. “You’re scared. Anyone would be, after hearing that.” He let a beat of silence pass. “I'm guessing he didn’t want to dump all his skeletons on you too soon. He probably thought he had more time to prove he’d changed before you found out.”

You pressed your forehead against the cool window, watching the city lights smear into glowing lines. “I want to believe he’s changed,” you admitted, voice muffled. “But knowing he was capable of that kind of… y'know … it’s terrifying. And I'm jealous of her but also scared for what she went through. It’s all jumbled in my head.”

Gojo lowered his voice. “I can’t tell you how to feel, but I can say that if Sukuna realized you ran out tonight because of this… he’d hate it. Not because he’s pissed at you—but because he’s gonna think he messed up, all over again.”

Your heart clenched at the idea of Sukuna blaming himself. “That’s why I couldn’t face him,” you whispered. “I can’t handle this conversation right now. I'm drunk and emotional, and if I saw even a flicker of that old side of him, it’d break me tonight.”

Gojo nodded, pulling onto your street. “I get it. Believe it or not, I do.” He slowly eased the car to a stop by the curb in front of your building. The engine’s rumble quieted when he switched it off. “But you gotta talk to him eventually. Running is just gonna make this worse.”

You stared at your trembling hands. “I know,” you managed. “Tomorrow. Maybe.”

Gojo twisted in his seat, facing you. In the dim glow of the overhead light, you could see the genuine concern in his expression. “You don’t have to go through this alone, you know. If you need backup—hell, if you just need someone to vent at—call me. Or Shoko. Or Geto. We’ve all been there in different ways.”

Your eyes burned with tears again, but you forced a weak smile. “Thanks,” you whispered, meaning it more than you could say. “And… sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

He shook his head. “That’s what friends are for,” he said, popping the driver’s door open. “Come on, let’s get you inside. You look like you’re about to pass out and I really don’t want you puking in my freshly detailed car.”

Gojo helped you out of the car, half-supporting, half-dragging you as you stumbled toward the front door of your building.

“Wow,” he drawled, trying not to laugh, “you’re heavier than you look. Don’t tell me you’ve been sneaking rocks into your pockets for self-defense.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing. “I’d whack you with one if I had the energy,” you shot back, though it came out more slurred than intimidating.

He snorted, juggling your keys to keep you upright. “Is that a threat? Because I'm not above leaving you out here, you know.”

“Go for it,” you grumbled, only half-serious. “I'll just pass out on the doorstep and ask the raccoons for help.”

Gojo barked a laugh, finally managing to get the key in the lock. The door gave way, and he guided you into the warm glow of your apartment. “Alright, rock lady, you win. Let’s find a couch before you kill me or break something valuable.”

You practically collapsed onto your sofa, every limb feeling like jelly. Relief washed over you for all of two seconds—until your phone buzzed for the tenth time in as many minutes. Your eyes darted to the screen: Sukuna’s name glaring back at you, demanding attention. Are you okay? Where’d you go? Please answer me.

“Wow,” Gojo said, peeking over. “He’s fucking persistent. Most I’ve gotten in a night from him is two texts: ‘Hey loser, be there in five’ and ‘Sleepy. Go away.’”

You choked out something between a laugh and a groan, swatting at your phone. “Please, no commentary. I can’t… I just can’t talk to him.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, hey, I'm just the chauffeur-slash-bodyguard, remember? Not the relationship guru. Although,” he added with a dramatic flourish, “I am pretty great at advice if you change your mind.”

Slumping deeper into the cushions, you shook your head. “I just need—time. Tonight was too much. If he hears me now, he’ll know how freaked out I am, and… I'm already freaking out enough for both of us.”

Gojo gave you a sympathetic smile that was almost gentle. “Alright, fair. I'll spare you my amazing insights and personal wisdom.” He paused, tapping his chin theatrically. “Except for these gems: Drink water. Don’t puke on your floor. And definitely don’t call him drunk—because that’d be a train wreck for all involved.”

Despite everything, a breathy giggle escaped you. “Roger that.”

He grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you with a flourish like he was tucking in a royal. “There. Cozy.”

“Th-thanks,” you mumbled, the humor draining as exhaustion took hold. “And… sorry for dragging you into all this drama.”

He shrugged grandly. “Please, I thrive on drama. Plus, it’s way more fun than that time I had to dog-sit Megumi’s dogs. Those things are like fucking demons. This is a breeze in comparison.”

Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy. “You’re… such a goof,” you whispered, but there was a faint smile on your lips.

Gojo flipped an imaginary lock of hair. “Why, thank you. Now, on that delightful note, I'll leave you to your wallowing.” He started toward the door, pausing just long enough to check you one last time. “Seriously, though—call me if you need anything, or if your phone spontaneously combusts from Sukuna’s texts.”

You nodded, too tired to offer a proper goodbye. As the door clicked shut, your phone buzzed again—a new text you were nowhere near ready to answer. With a long sigh, you let the world fall away, ignoring it all for just a little while longer.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁

Sukuna barely registered the next round of drinks hitting the table, his eyes fixed on the door you had just walked out of. A strange, uneasy feeling curled in his gut, but he told himself you just needed some air. Maybe you’d had one too many drinks—nothing to stress over.

But the minutes ticked by, and you didn’t come back.

His fingers drummed against the tabletop, his impatience growing by the second. He was about to push off his seat and go after you when Geto slipped back inside, his expression unreadable. That alone put Sukuna on edge.

“Where is she?” Sukuna asked immediately, voice sharp.

Geto didn’t answer right away. Instead, he slid into his seat, grabbed his drink, and took a slow sip before setting it down. That was a bad sign. Geto always bought himself time when he had news that he knew Sukuna wouldn’t like.

“Sukuna,” Geto started, carefully neutral.

Sukuna’s jaw clenched. “Geto.”

Geto sighed, rubbing his temple before reaching for his drink. “She left.”

Sukuna’s entire body tensed. “What?”

Shoko, who had been mid-sip of her drink, blinked in surprise. “Wait—what do you mean she left?” she asked, turning to Geto. “Shit. She was just here.”

“Not anymore,” Geto muttered, giving Shoko a look. “You didn’t notice?”

Shoko frowned, setting her drink down. “Figured that she needed air. I thought she was still outside.”

Sukuna raked a hand through his hair, frustration gnawing at him from all angles. He pulled his phone from his pocket, spamming you multiple text messages— Are you okay? Where’d you go? Please answer me. Just as anxiety surged hot in his chest, his phone buzzed. Hope sparked for half a second—until he saw the name.

Gojo.

A bad feeling coiled low in his gut as he answered, putting him on speaker while Geto and Shoko leaned in. “Where the fuck is she?”

“Wow, not even a hello?” Gojo’s voice rang over the line, dripping with amusement.

Sukuna wasn’t in the mood. “Gojo,” he growled, “Where is she?”

There was a pause, then Gojo exhaled through his nose. “Relax, she’s safe. I took her home.”

Sukuna’s blood ran hot. “You what?”

Shoko sat forward at that, brows furrowing. “Wait, she left with Gojo?”

Sukuna gripped his phone tighter. “Put her on.”

“Yeahhh, see, that’s not happening,” Gojo replied. “She’s not really in a talking mood. Kind of drunk. Kind of emotional. Not a great combo.”

Sukuna’s patience snapped. “And you thought the best idea was to take her home without telling me?”

“I thought the best idea was to get her somewhere safe before she had a full-blown breakdown in the alley of the bar,” Gojo shot back, his voice losing some of its usual lightness. “She didn’t want to see you right now, Sukuna.”

That hit deeper than Sukuna wanted to admit. His jaw tightened. “Why?”

Silence.

Shoko and Geto exchanged a look. Then Shoko sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose as realization hit her. “It’s my fault,” she muttered.

Sukuna turned on her. “Explain.”

Shoko hesitated only for a second before giving him a steady look. “We were talking. Your past with your ex came up. I told her what happened.”

Sukuna’s entire body tensed. A slow, creeping feeling started in his chest, climbing up his throat - just barely restrained frustration and something dangerously close to fear. He didn’t move, didn’t even blink.

Shoko continued, her voice softer now. “I wasn’t trying to freak her out. I just… she was overthinking about her showing up and I thought she should know.”

Sukuna closed his eyes briefly, exhaling sharply through his nose. When he opened them, his voice was low, controlled. “Dammit. What exactly did you tell her?”

Shoko hesitated again. Then, “The truth. I didn’t go into every ugly detail, but I didn’t sugarcoat it either. She had the right to know, Sukuna.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

Geto sighed. “She panicked, Sukuna. She didn’t know how to process it, and instead of confronting you, she ran.”

Sukuna let his phone drop to the table, ignoring the faint sound of Gojo’s voice still on the other end. He braced both hands against the wood, his grip tight. He could picture it—your face tightening as you processed whatever the hell Shoko had told you, your hands probably fidgeting the way they always did when you were anxious.

“Why didn’t she just find me?” Sukuna muttered, his voice quieter now, frustration laced through every syllable.

Geto gave him a knowing look. “Probably because she didn’t want to see if the version of you she just heard about was still inside you.”

That stung.

Sukuna leaned back, jaw working, emotions clawing at his ribs. He wanted to tell himself you’d call, that you’d text, that you’d at least give him the chance to explain himself before making up your mind.

But you weren’t answering his messages.

“She’s scared,” Shoko said, and the words cut more than they should have.

Sukuna leaned back against the booth, running a hand down his face. He knew this was going to come up eventually—he just thought he’d be the one to tell you, not hear about your reaction secondhand.

Gojo’s voice crackled from the still-active call. “Look, man, she needs time,” he said, his usual teasing edge replaced with something closer to seriousness. “Give her the night. She’ll talk to you when she’s ready.”

Sukuna didn’t respond. He just ended the call, shoving his phone into his pocket before standing abruptly, shoving his chair back.

“Where are you going?” Geto asked, though from his tone, he already knew the answer.

“To find her,” Sukuna turned to face him, and for a moment, there was nothing casual or cocky in his expression.

“Sukuna,” Geto sighed. “She needs space right now.”

“She already thinks I might be the same person I used to be,” he said, voice low, controlled. “And you want me to just sit here and fucking do nothing?”

Right now, all he could think about was you. And whether or not he had just lost you before he even had the chance to really call you his.

As Sukuna stormed toward the bar's exit, a firm hand gripped his shoulder, halting his stride. He turned sharply to find Uraume standing there, their expression a mix of impatience and concern.

"Where do you think you're going?" Uraume demanded, their tone edged with irritation.

"Out," Sukuna replied curtly, attempting to shrug off their hand.

Uraume's grip tightened. "To do what? Chase after her like some love-struck fool?"

Sukuna's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Watch your mouth, Rume."

They scoffed, releasing his shoulder but stepping in front of him to block his path. "Someone has to say it. You're acting irrationally. Barging in on her now will only make things worse."

"And you know this how?" Sukuna challenged, his voice low and threatening.

"Because unlike you, I can see when a situation requires patience," Uraume shot back. "You're so blinded by your own ego that you can't see she needs space."

Sukuna's fists clenched at his sides. "This is none of your damn business."

“I think it is,” they countered, unmoving. “Because I saw this coming from the moment you started getting tangled up with her, and I’d really like to save you from making it worse.”

Sukuna’s patience snapped. “Oh? And what exactly do you think you saw coming?”

Uraume clicked their tongue, shaking their head as if he were being particularly stupid. “This. You. Running after her like some idiot who doesn’t understand how feelings work. Getting in too deep. Setting yourself up for something you don’t know how to handle.”

Sukuna’s lips curled in irritation. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Uraume said, voice flattening, “that you’re about to go chasing after her right now, when she clearly doesn’t want to see you, and in the process, you’re going to ruin any chance you do have of fixing this.”

Sukuna’s fists clenched at his sides. “I can't just sit back and do nothing.”

“You should this time,” they shot back. “You should’ve seen this coming, Sukuna. She’s different. She’s not like the others. You care about her—and that’s exactly why this was bound to hurt.”

Something about the way they said it made something twist in his chest.

Uraume sighed, running a hand through their hair. “You’ve never had to deal with this before. You don’t let anyone get close enough for this to happen. Hell, the last time you almost did... well, we all watched how that played out. But this time? You let her in. And now you’re panicking because she’s not sure she can do the same.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened. He hated how right they were.

Seeing his reaction, Uraume softened—just slightly. “I’m not saying she’s gone for good,” they continued, their tone less sharp now. “If you go to her now, in this state, you'll confirm every fear she has about you. You’ll make her leave for good. Is that what you want?”

Sukuna exhaled slowly, the fight inside him still raging, but now tempered with the weight of their words. Every instinct was urging him to push Uraume aside and haul ass to your apartment, but it was as if his feet refused to move now.

Uraume took a step closer, lowering their voice. “I didn’t want you to go through this, Sukuna. I saw where it was headed, and I knew it would break something in you if it fell apart. So, if you don’t want to lose her completely, listen to me—wait.”

For a long moment, Sukuna said nothing. The bar behind them buzzed with energy, the door to the outside world just a few feet away. His instincts screamed at him to go, to fix it, to see her now before she got too far away.

But deep down, he knew Uraume was right. You couldn’t - shouldn’t - see him like this. He didn’t want you to.

Sukuna’s hands unclenched, though his shoulders stayed tense. “Fine,” he muttered, barely above a growl. “But if she doesn’t reach out soon…”

“Then we figure it out,” Uraume finished, nodding. “But not tonight.”

Sukuna let out a sharp breath and turned on his heel, stalking back toward the booth. Uraume watched him go, their unreadable expression lingering long after he sat back down.

Because this time—they weren’t sure if waiting would be enough to save him.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊

taglist : @mangiswig @sorahatake @osohchoso @clp-84 @sterzin @csolya @emochosoluvr @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine

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queermania · 2 years ago

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I desperately want to talk about how Sam being played by Jared unintentionally made him so much more interesting because Jared sucks as an actor

SCREAM A;LSDJFJKASFD YES LET'S TALK ABOUT IT

i am very conflicted about what i think was supposed to be happening in the early seasons regarding a lot of different aspects of the show but i do at the very least think sam was supposed to be the pov character and i think the audience was supposed to identify and sympathize with him.

unfortunately, jared.

BUT! jared's inability to be super sincere makes sam so much more interesting. like, you can sympathize with sam's story. his mom died seemingly because of him. his girlfriend died seemingly because of him. he wants revenge. he wants a normal life. he doesn't know what he wants. everything sucks. it's all very sympathetic. he's mad at his brother. he hates his dad. but actually he loves him. he's trying to relate to these victims.

but like. jared looks constipated whenever he tries to relate to the victims aslkdfjasdk; so it just kind of seems like sympathy is an action sam performs because that's what Normal(tm) people do and that is, to be perfectly honest, so much more interesting than sam who is actually just so full of sympathy and compassion.

like, sam has learned social rules and social rules dictate that when someone's loved one dies, they deserve sympathy. so he provides it, however awkwardly. (and he gets mad when dean doesn't adequately perform Sympathy because he doesn't understand that it's not a performance for dean. dean either feels it or he doesn't and then acts accordingly. and dean doesn't understand that sam is performing it and they have communication breakdowns over this and it's very crunchy if you choose to view the show this way).

i feel like this also plays into sam always having a look of mild contemplation/constipation when, for example, cas dies, vs dean who looks like the entire world is crumbling to pieces right before his eyes.

and it makes sam seem like a much angrier person than he probably is intended to be. there's always a boiling tension simmering just under the surface because jared [redacted] [redacted] [redacted].

and because jared is actually pretty good at physical comedy, it also makes sam such a snarky annoying little brother.

and it makes sam seem kind of like he's given up in the later seasons because jared has somehow both checked out and gotten better at acting? there is more nuance to his performance when he does decide to pay attention to what's going on. sam seems to have more emotions than just anger. but also... so much of the time sam is like an empty husk just existing in a room.

so yeah. basically i agree. a different actor might have made sam a lot more likable but god how boring would that be?

#replies #anonymous #sw

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headcanons-n-shit · 1 year ago

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Hello

Your newest post reminded me i had an idea. The bois comforting wol who is having a nervous brakedown from all the stress. Bonus Ardbert.

I really like your stories. Especially the angsty ones.

(TAZ The Breakdown plays in the background)

(Mild shadowbringers spoilers)

Thancred literally (accidentally but still) disassociated so hard from the stress that he gave up his body to the bad guy for a bit. If anyone gets what youre going through, its probably going to be him. Hes not going to waste his time on empty platitudes: hes going to get you a glass of water, a warm blanket, and a hot meal, and let you cry it out on his shoulder for as long as you need to.

(And if that still doesnt help, well. Sex is still on the table. Its rarely a good idea, but hes all out of those.)

Urianger is probably breaking down with you lets be real. Every future my mans has ever read has included world-ending catastrophe, and, sure, youve thwarted it every time (usually with his help) but. What if this time you dont? What if this time you fail???? Its an unreasonable amount of stress for one man to be carrying. He probably does a fantastic amount of fantasy weed to cope and still all it takes is seeing you break down for him to also start blubber-crying.

Graha seems kind of detached and distant at first. "Shower water food" he commands you, in the voice of Lynas grandfather the Crystal Exarch, firm and uncompromising and impossible to disobey, and you might miss the way his voice and smile are strained. The way his hands clench and unclench at his sides. Hes never regretted turning back time to help you save two worlds, but. Its times like this that he wonders if he shouldnt try again to give you a happier ending.

Estinien is a firm hand on your shoulder, a steady shoulder to lean on, because he gets it. The feeling of being trapped in your own body, puppetted by powers so much greater than you can imagine, almost greater than you can comprehend... Youre breaking down for the both of you, honestly, because hes spent so long training the iron discipline to resist nidhoggs influence that he doesnt know how to anymore. This is. Cathartic. For the both of you tbh.

Aymeric wishes in this moment, more than anything, that he could just. Just be with you. Out on your journeys, giving you support by your side instead of from a distance. And he knows, he knows, that the support he gives you is important, that his ability to move nations in your favor has helped far more than any single sword at your side ever would. But he bears the weight of a nation while you bear the weight of a star, and that just. Doesnt seem fair to him.

Haurchefant knows that theres some things that hot chocolate cant fix but. Its a good starting place if nothing else. Something warm and sweet right now couldnt hurt, neither would a soft blanket and a roaring fire. He'll sit with you, bundled up together, and just listen if thats what you need. Or he can talk-- he has plenty of embarrassing stories about Artoirel that he hasnt shared yet. Either way, he'll happily help you wipe your tears away when youre done, and then drop a delicate kiss on your forehead.

Stand tall, he says. A smile better suits a hero.

Sidurgu is surprisingly good at this. Or, maybe not so surprising? Rielle is very mature for her age, but shes still a child. He probably does this whole song and dance every other week. And you feel a little bit like a child, the way he bullies you into the shower and then bundles you up in blankets and pushes food at you, but. Beneath the gruff words and scowl you can tell hes worried. Frustrated. This is exactly the kind of injustice that as a dark knight he swore he would fight, but hes just one man, there isnt much he can do about the desolation of the star. But he also needs you to know that he'll always be in your corner. Whether in this little way or if you need him to help you kill a god, he'll always come when you call.

BONUS

Ardbert has never felt so helpless in his life. He cant touch you, cant be a shoulder you can cry on. He cant even fetch you a glass of water. All he can do is stand there and watch as you break apart in your bed in the Pendants, and its. Its torture, worse than anything any ascian could ever conceive.

Still. He does what he can. And if all he can do is sit at your bedside, his hand hovering half-through yours in a mockery of touch while he tells you stories of his adventures, or friendship and triumph and happier times, well. Its the least he can do.

#ff14 #ff14 headcanons #thancred waters #wolcred #urianger augurelt #wolianger #graha tia #grahawol #estinien varlineau #estinien wyrmblood #wolstinien #aymeric de borel #wolmeric #haurchefant greystone #haurchewol #sidurgu orl #sidwol #ff14 ardbert #wolbert

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stanfanfiction · 1 year ago

Text

Taste of You - Ken x fem! reader - PART SIX.FIVE

Six is my lucky number so hopefully you all enjoy the new only-exists-for-smut .5 🫠🫠🫠 sorry this took forever. I kept wanting to end it on a story-building note but couldn’t ever settle on one that I liked, so it is what it is for now.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / sex toys / bondage / fingering / p! In v! / oral f! & m! Receiving / multiple orgasms / it’s a .5 chapter it literally exists solely for the sake of smut so have fun besties / super jealous Ken / rough sex / possessive / spanking / pet names (baby girl) (good girl) / praise / edging / overstim / exhaustion

Ooooohhhhh no no no no….

It was the first day of your Fall flex term class. You still had your normal Fall/Winter full time classes happening but you had decided to sign up for the new four-week course as well, since the professor was a favorite author of yours and you didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to learn from her.

Ken had been with you most of the day. His job at the bubble tea shop was fascinating to him and he asked if he come come to campus with you to explain how magical his first day of work was because he felt being stuck at home would be too boring.

You got to your classroom and turned to Ken. “Alright, you can go hang at the library or something, it’s right next to this building and I’ll come get you when class is over.”

Your new professor heard you as she was walking down the hallway to the classroom herself.

“Oh, he can hang out in class, I don’t mind,” she smiled. “It’s a huge classroom so I’m sure one of seats towards the top back corners will be available if you wanted to stay.”

You wanted to ponder this invite for a moment but Ken had already smiled back and was walking in front of you into the classroom. He was able to have a seat towards the back like the professor had suggested, and he settled in to see what a day in class looked like.

The classroom was one of those giant theater-like seating arenas and echoed a decent amount anytime anyone was talking, so it was definitely echo-y today as students filed in and began sitting down and visiting with their new classmates around them.

The clock was about to hit what was the start time for class when a last person walked into the room and you suddenly regretted choosing a seat towards the front, only because maaayybbee he somehow wouldn’t notice who you were and then Ken wouldn’t have a nervous breakdown of finding out who this guy was. Because of course Ken is attending a class…with you in it…and your ex Dave was now walking over to the professor as she handed him some papers.

The professor introduced herself to the class and motioned towards Dave, who sat near the front of the room as well, and told everyone he would be her TA for the semester.

“Don’t notice me,” you pleaded in your head. You weren’t worried about him, oh no. Dave was honestly a super cool guy and even though your relationship had mostly focused on having fun and sex, you had both parted ways awhile ago on good terms and you hadn’t even considered that he probably still attended school here, as, if you remembered correctly, he would probably be graduating either later this year or early next year. It made sense why he was here, but what was going to not make sense was probably how jealous Ken would get if he found out that this Dave was the Dave he had already had a mild breakdown over.

“Holy….y/n?” He did notice, fuck.

You smiled and greeted him softly, knowing Ken could easily see everything but hearing might be a different matte- oh wait no, the room echoed.

“It’s so good to see you again!”

“You, too! I forgot you hadn’t graduated yet so seeing you is a surprise,” you said cheerily.

“A good surprise, right?” He chuckled and winked.

“For sure.”

He handed you a piece of paper. “This is today’s sign-in sheet. Can you start it and then pass it around?”

“Of course.” You took the paper from his hand and began scribbling your name down.

“Hey, this guy won’t stop looking at you.”

You looked at Dave then looked over your shoulder. Yep, of course Ken had noticed.

“Yeah, uh, that’s my boyfriend. He gets kinda fixated on something at times.”

“Like you?”

“That’s…accurate.”

Dave laughed. “I love it. He looks fun. I wish I could pull pink off as well as he does.”

You laughed a little then and smiled at Ken before turning your attention back to the sheet and passed it once you had finished writing your name and email.

Your phone vibrated against your hip and you pulled the phone from your pocket, already knowing who it would be. You had bought him a phone last week and he wasn’t usually on it very much but he was most definitely going to be using it during class now….

“Do you know him?” (Ken)

“Yes. Old friend. Just saying hi.” (You)

“Old fiend named Dave.” (Ken)

“Old friend, not fiend.” (You)

“Same Dave that I know about?” (Ken)

“And this is important because..?” (You)

“Because you’ll be in a class with him for three days each week for the next month.” (Ken)

“Yeah that’s how class works, Ken.” (You)

“I don’t like it.” (Ken)

“You don’t have to.” (You)

“What if he wants to study together?” (Ken)

“He won’t. That’s not how TA / student relationships work.” (You)

“But he still goes to class here? So he would want to study for another class.” (Ken)

“Baby I gotta put my phone away, they’re not really allowed to be active on during class. Don’t worry. You know I love you.” (You)

“Come sit with me, at least.” (Ken)

You had already silenced your phone and put it in your book bag before the last text got sent so you could focus on the lecture. Ken knew you hadn’t seen the last text and tried to keep his internal anxiety at bay.

He wished this awful man from your previous affairs wasn’t sitting in class, distracting every fiber of his being, because the lecture actually sounded interesting, especially since the teacher kept referencing a book called “Black Beauty,” which was apparently about a horse. Ken would have to ask you about it later, and definitely check it out of the library.

Ken noticed every little thing Dave did, as apparently the TA sat at the front of the class as well close to the teacher’s desk and facing the class. Ken set his jaw when he saw Dave subtly glance your way multiple times, and most definitely watched the one time Dave’s gaze focused just a *little * too long in your direction. Ken knew from personal experience was it looked like to fuck someone with your eyes.

Class wasn’t *that* long but felt like an eternity for Ken. The moment the professor dismissed everyone, he was by your side, picking up your book bag for you and holding you close to him by your waist.

“Hey baby. Did you like the lecture?” You asked, genuinely wanting to know since you had assumed he would have loved it, but were also attempting a distraction as you two were walking out of the room. You intentionally didn’t bid the professor or Dave goodbye, simply leaving the class like everyone else.

You cursed under your breath when Dave caught up with the two of you right as you were about to exit.

“Hey, man, I’m Dave.” He flashed a million-dollar smile and extended his hand at Ken. Thankfully Ken had become a little better at hiding his emotions due consistent socialization between your friends and working at the boba tea shop, but he could only keep his disdain for this man hidden so much.

Ken shook his hand but his blue eyes glanced at you, wanting to see your reaction to Dave standing so close.

“I have to get to my next class,” you said nonchalantly. “See ya next time.”

Dave nodded. “I look forward to it.”

You walked briskly out the door, knowing Ken would follow because he wasn’t about to release his grip on your waits, and the two of you exited the building into the day’s sunshine.

“I don’t like him,” Ken repeated.

“I know, baby. Listen,” you sat on a bench and Ken sat beside you, his leg pressing into yours. “I know this stresses you out, and that’s okay, but you can’t hold this over me.”

Ken’s eyes met yours, and you could tell he was trying so hard to maintain his anxious composure, to make sure you were happy with him.

You took his face in your hands. “I love you. I don’t care about Dave. I haven’t in a really long time. These flex term classes are short, but they’re intense. I have to be in every class and studying is going to take up a lot of my time, so I need you to understand nothing is going to happen between me and Dave.”

Ken nodded, but you could tell it was as if he felt like you had verbally slapped him in the face. You knew he needed more validation than you might be able to offer him for awhile, and despite how much that made you sad, you were also trying to set a boundary so the fact that you were attending this class wouldn’t be something that stressed *both* of you out every day.

“I don’t think that *he* is thinking that way,” Ken said, trying to hide the jerkiness in his voice.

“That’s not my problem to worry about. I won’t let him do anything to me.”

Ken seemed almost sheepish in his reply, as if knowing he shouldn’t say it but he couldn’t stop himself. “You promise?”

“More than anything.”

Ken’s shoulders relaxed a little, and he nodded. “Okay.”

You gave him a chaste kiss before taking your book bag from him. “I gotta get to my next class. I’ll see you at home, alright?”

He smiled and nodded as you walked away, and you felt irritated that he didn’t have work today. At least that probably would have helped distract and maybe even calm him.

Your phone rang right as you were about to enter an elevator.

“Hey, Ken.”

“Do you want anything from the store?”

“I’m good, thanks though.”

Ken’s chest grew tight again when he heard a now-familiar voice in the background of your phone.

“Hey, hold the door!” Dave called out.

“Don’t hold the door for him.” Ken had a lightning bolt of anxiety rip through him.

“Ken, it’s fine. I love you.”

“Don’t hang up, please.”

You had dropped your phone back into your book bag before hearing his last words, but unfortunately, your finger hadn’t tapped the End Call button hard enough, so the phone call remained on. The conversation was muffled, but not muffled enough to where Ken couldn’t make out every word.

“Sup.”

“I honesty don’t miss hearing you saying that,” you said lighting in a joking manner.

“Ahh!” Dave made a dramatic show of gripping his heart with his hand. “That hurt.”

“Knock it off, Dave.” Your voice remained light. He wished you had sneered instead.

“So how long you been with blondie? He legit gives off vibes that you captured him on the beach.”

“Is he a student here?”

“No, but we live together.”

“Ah, cool! I heard awhile back from Amber that you had moved off-campus.”

“Amber would be correct.”

“So, you two, uh, doing well?” Dave leaned into the elevator wall, shoulders hunching a little, trying to look relaxed.

“Very.”

“Cool, cool. Just asking.” There was a long silence until, “If you ever, like, need anything -“

“Thanks, Dave, I’ll let you know.” Ken knew you had smiled at him. He knew the sound of your voice when you did. Fuck, if only he hadn’t left campus and knew what building you were in.

Ken heard the sound of shuffling and he held his breath as he heard Dave’s next words.

“You look, like, really fucking good, y/n.”

“Dave -“

“You have just a little, uh, strand of hair -“

“I got it, thanks.”

“I could get it for you -“

“I’m good.”

“Fine,” Dave relented, and the elevator bell dinged, indicating you had reached your floor. Right before the doors opened, however, “You’re not planning on regulating that pretty pussy of yours to beach guy forever, right?”

For whatever reason, the phone call cut off then. Ken stood on the sidewalk, frozen.

He sat at home on the sofa that sat in the living room, facing the front door, willing you to walk in early despite knowing you never missed a class and that you were never home before 6:30 on Tuesdays.

He knew he shouldn’t but he had called you multiple times, every call going to voicemail. He knew you never answered during class, but fuck it, he had lost his will to care today. Sitting in the silence of the empty house only fueled his imagination.

The call cutting off because you had noticed it was still on, and Dave touching you in the elevator. You deciding to miss classes for the first time in your life to have him fuck you in his dorm room, doing whatever the hell Amber had subtly referred to. You laughing about him, for whatever reason, with Dave as the two of you lay in a naked, tangled heap.

The front door finally opened, Ken having lost track of time as he had stared at it, lost in his thoughts that had become more and more upsetting as the seconds ticked by. His attention was drawn back sharply as he heard the door close, and he realized he had been gripping both of his thighs tightly with his hands.

He must have looked as unhappy as he felt because your face immediately became concerned upon seeing him.

“Hey, Ken, are you okay?”

He was on you in a moment, rage tearing through him. “What did he do to you?”

You legitimately looked completely confused, having no idea he had heard the call, and also having zero guilt about anything having happening during the day.

“What are you talking about?”

“Dave. What. Did. He. Do. To. You.”

“What…how would he have done anything to me?”

“I heard you. And him. Your phone didn’t hang up.”

Ohhh. “If you heard it then you know nothing happened.”

“It hung up when he mentioned your hair.”

“He didn’t touch me.”

“Promise?”

“Goddammit, Ken, I don’t have to promise.”

“He tried, though. He wanted to touch you. He wants you to leave me.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s fair. That doesn’t mean- “

Ken picked you up roughly, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding your ass as he slammed your back into the door. “Mine.”

You whimpered as his teeth sank into your neck. You always internally battled on whether you should be firm with him and tell him to grow up or if you should encourage this behavior, and somehow the middle ground always won, at least for now.

“Ken, we’ve been over this,” you said, your own moan cutting you off as he sucked hard on your skin, bucking his hard clothed budge into into your panty covered core. You really needed to stop wearing short skirts so often.

“Mine,” he growled again, storming into the bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head, his chest flexing and puffed out.

“I fucking know, Ken,” you threw back at him before your back arched and you cried out, Ken having pushed your legs open and brought his hand down to spank your pussy. You saw stars as he did it again and you writhed underneath him as he pressed his hands into your hips, holding you down.

“Ken,” you whimpered again as he snuck two fingers under your panties, rubbing them back and forth firmly.

“You’re already so wet,” he panted, eyes on fire. “Were you this wet in the elevator?”

You visibly rolled your eyes but shut them tightly when his hand came down on your core again. You gripped his forearms in your hands when he dipped two fingers into your opening with ease, and you moaned loudly as he pushed them roughly deeper into you, immediately curling them into your special spot.

“Are you thinking about him right now?” He seethed, and you shook your head, unable to verbally reply through your moans, your head swimming with how sudden all of these sensations were.

“You’re only thinking about me?” He persisted.

“Yes,” you managed to squeak, his fingers quickening their pace.

“You’ll only think about me?”

You cried out loudly when he leaned over to wrap his hand around your throat as his hips leaned against his own fingers buried inside you, thrusting them into his hand so he could easily finger-fuck you harder.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, Ken,” you choked out, your body already nearing shudders.

“You’ll prove it to me, then.”

Your legs began to shake a little, your walls clenching around his fingers. He could tell you were about to reach your peak.

“How long can you hold out on me? To prove you’ll only think about me because you’re so exhausted from begging for your release, staring in my eyes, knowing every single touch is coming only from me?” He pulled his fingers out of you then, and your eyes shot open, your body in shock from being suddenly ravaged to being denied its release.

“Oh, fuck, Ken.” Your head fell back into the mattress, already frustrated beyond belief. “Please, please -“

“Good girl. We’re off to a strong start.”

He flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your legs to hang over the bed so you were bent over for him. His hand came up between your legs to spank you again and the sharp sensation on your clit had you instinctively close your legs, your back arching as his other hand down your lower back down.

“Keep them open for me,” Ken warned, a shudder running through you at his tone.

You slowly began to do as he said when he nudged his legs between yours, opening them for him and keeping them open by planting his feet firmly on the ground.

His hand snapped up to meet your clit again and you gripped the sheets tightly as it came back for a third time, your legs beginning to tremble.

Ken had his plan - exhaust you, give you the most amazing orgasms of your life, maybe you wouldn’t want to go to class tomorrow, even though me know you would go. So, make sure every time you moved even the slightest movement that you’d feel him - make you sore, but just the right amount to where you’d try not to squirm in public but maybe you’d get wet from remembering how good he could make you feel.

You felt his hand that was holding you down remove itself from your back and he kneeled between your shaking legs, pulling your panties aside. You cried out loudly, your body in awe, as he pressed his full tongue into your clit, the warmth traveling all through your core.

Oh, fuck, you didn’t know anything could feel like this. Your nerves being so violently stimulated beforehand Made you be about to feel absolutely everything as his lips wrapped around your bud and sucked gently. He moaned into you when he heard the high pitched noise you made, very pleased with himself, and he gently held your hips as his tongue ravaged you.

“Holy fuck…Yes…aahhh…yes, Ken…oh…thank you, Ken…”

You could have cried when he pulled back, kissing up your spine then flipping you onto your back again.

You weren’t used to actually being edged. You had only experienced it once with, of all people, Dave. It had been fun but also absolutely mentally and physically exhausted you, and right now you were insanely frustrated, especially after feeling whatever that was.

“You should just let me come,” You huffed, looking Ken right in the eye as he brought the ties out from the drawer, his muscles clenching.

“Mmmm, maybe later.” He ripped your clothes off except your panties before grabbing one of your arms, deciding to tie you up differently tonight. Instead of tying your wrists together, tied your single wrist to the far side of the headboard. He straddled you as he reached for your other one and began wrapping the tie around -

“By not giving me my orgasm, you’re only encouraging me to think of Dave.” If he wanted to play jealousy games, fine. You’d fuel them then.

Ken gave you a dangerous look, his eyes darkening, waiting in silence for you to explain.

“So tie me up, edge me, then. Have your fun.”

“You know I’m waiting for you to finish that thought.”

“Mmmhmmm.” You tried not to grin up at him.

“So,” he slammed your wrist onto the bed above your head, lowering his face to hover above yours, “fucking finish it.”

You sighed with intention. “It’s just that, nobody has ever edged me before. Except Dave.”

You don’t think you could have explained the energy that washed over Ken in that moment if you tried. But you had won. If he was going to keep struggling with jealousy towards you, then you would make it work in your favor instead of stressing you out…at least for now. Ken was already too far gone when you’d come through the door to calm, so, hey…seeing what he’d cooked up in his mind wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

You felt your arm being jerked upward as it was securely fastened to the opposite side of the headboard, and you wanted to protest for the fun of it but you were actually tied up to where you couldn’t move your upper body, save for being able to lift your head.

“Looks like I have a little more work to do than I had originally thought,” Ken spat as he knotted the remaining ties around your ankles, also securing them to the foot of the bed so you were splayed out naked for him, unable to move.

“You better make this worth it,” You sighed again as if bored. “I’m supposed to be studying -“

You were cut off as you moaned loudly, Ken pulling the strip of your panties covering your heat to the side as his mouth clamped onto your clit, sucking hard. Ken’s mind was a rush of anger, of passion, of - goddammit, would this stupid fear of you leaving him actually ever leave him - and all he could see in his mind’s eye was Dave doing this to you, holding you hostage in your own bed, tasting your juices, feeling your perfect skin and muscles under his tongue, taking in your scent as you moaned and squealed and attempted to writhe despite your restraints.

He was so easily lost in you. He thought of untying you then, wanting to feel your hands in his hair, feeling the different tugs when he hit different areas of pleasure, holding your hips up to him in an almost bruising grip. But no, he had to remember his plans for you for now.

He felt dizzy as he licked thick stripes up and down, your vocal reactions becoming louder, and he lost track of time when he began to tongue fuck you, getting into a rhythm that was making you feel crazy as you got lost in the pleasure as well.

He pulled back only enough to speak, his lips still brushing against your folds. “Tell me how good I make you feel, y/n.” He dove back in immediately, desperate to hear your voice as he consumed you - it made him feel so warm and so hard, your breathy, often barely coherent words soothing his anxiety, making him get lost in you even more.

You didn’t reply, at least not with words. Your moaning continued for a moment then paused with another frustration huff from you when he pulled back again.

“Tell me how good I make you feel,” he commanded a little louder. Maybe you hadn’t heard him the first time.

You remained silent other than your breathing, which you were working to calm down.

“Tell me how good I make you feel,” he said for the third time, his voice betraying his anxiety when the last word ended on a note that sounded like a question.

He stood up when you kept quiet, leaning over you. “Y/n.”

You looked at him. “Yes, Ken?”

“Why won’t you say it?”

“Why won’t you stop being jealous over things that don’t matter?”

He hardened again then. “They matter to me.”

You stared up at him.

“You’re still thinking about Dave?”

“It’s honestly hard not to when you won’t stop talking about him, Ken.”

He growled. He couldn’t argue with that logic but he hated you pointing it out. He got off you and went back to the drawer and pulled out something you couldn’t see. He walked back to lean himself over you again, holding himself up with his forearm alongside your head.

“Fine, but I’m going to replace your memory of him denying your release with my own.”

You cried out loudly, your body shaking when you felt a strong sensation suddenly being shoved into your panties and pushed onto your clit. Ken held the vibrator on you, watching your reactions, loving how quickly you got lost in them, at how surprising overwhelmed you seem to become within the first few moments.

“You like this?” He breathed.

You couldn’t form words and answered with a string of noises instead, your head thrown back into the mattress as all of your limbs strained desperately against their bounds. Still leaning over you, Ken kissed your exposed throat, sucking ever so gently. He just wanted you to feel him around you.

He knew your orgasm was coming simply by the way in which your breathing was quickening and removed the toy from your panties, the buzzing noise filling your ears and mixing with the white noise swimming inside of them.

“Ken, please,” You started, your voice already sounding raw. He set the toy down on the bed beside you, not bothering to turn it off, so his hand could travel up your waist to your breasts as he kneaded one in his hand and began sucking on the other. Your body seemed to almost relax a little, thankful for the pleasure after having it taken away again.

“Remember when I said you’d have to beg me?” He mumbled around your hardening nipple, swirling his wet tongue around it.

You whined.

“That doesn’t sound like begging.”

“I shouldn’t have to beg for what’s rightfully mine,” you whimpered as his teeth sunk into your tender skin, pulling on the nipple ever so slightly.

Ohh. This was a new mood coming from you, but he loved it.

“Have it your way, then.” He watched you as he inserted the vibrator in your underwear again and you cried out, your entire body doing a delicious shudder, and he got up to straddle your waist. Your panties were snug enough to hold the vibrator against you so he could let go.

“You’re going to beg me, baby girl,” he said as he planted his hands above your head and slowly lowered his cock into your mouth. You moaned loudly, your arms and legs pulling against the restraints as best as they could as he slowly fucked himself into your mouth, watching the way your wet lips wrapped around him as you struggled with the pleasure the vibrator was giving you, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

Fuck, he loved you.

He felt himself grow impossibly harder as he watched his clock disappear into your mouth again and again, your loud moans and tiny screams from the vibrator vibrating themselves around his member, and he shuddered. Your eyes flicked up to meet his and he melted, his hand reaching down to wrap in your hair not to hold you still but just to touch you.

He knew you were close again when those high pitched noises started emanating from your throat, and he pulled himself out of your mouth and removed the vibrator from your panties.

You screamed in frustration.

“Why?” You wailed.

“Because I’m not finished with you yet.”

Ken tore the area off your panties apart that covered your opening with his hands and you jumped, surprised. He left the top part intact though, and you cursed loudly, knowing why.

When he sunk his fingers back into you, you wanted to do whatever he wanted just to make sure he kept them there. Maybe you could hide your orgasm approaching…

Your body jerked in the minor ways that it could due to your restraints and Ken watched you, memorizing every way you twitched and moaned.

“Look at me, baby girl,” he cooed, and you did as he asked. “Such a good girl for me.”

“Please, Ken, please let me come this time.” Your voice was a little hoarse again.

“You know how to make that happen.”

“I’m begging, please, please.”

“That’s hardly begging at all.” He slowed his fingers down just enough to where they were caressing inside you, and once again somehow you felt every little movement. Your body felt like it was singing at the immense pleasure washing through you, and your head became so overwhelmed with it that you became completely lost, eyes closed, mumbling and moaning softly as Ken watched you. He’d have to remember to do this to you again, you seemed in absolute bliss.

He had planned to edge you further again with this one but now struggled with the idea. He didn’t know you’d react this beautifully to this, and fuck, you were a perfect angel splayed out so willingly for him, and your body has already taken so much…

Ken fingered your through your orgasm, your body shocked with the fact that it was finally being allowed its climax, and you cried a little as the best orgasm of your life overtook every fiber of your being.

His name escaped your lips in a gorgeous, exhausted whisper during the last few moments of your pleasure, and Ken’s heart danced.

He pulled his fingers out of you softly, your body limp, and climbed on top of you. He kissed you deeply, the back of his knuckled grazing your cheek bone.

“Thank you, Ken,” your words were swallowed by his lips.

“We’re not done yet.” His tongue dipped into your mouth and languishingly explored.

“I’m so tired, Ken.” Your voice cracked as he pulled away just long enough for you to catch a breath before consuming your lips again.

“Good. That’s how I want you to feel.”

“You went sex toy shopping?” Your giggle faltered as soon as it began, head resting itself on Ken’s as his mouth found your neck.

“Mmmhmmm. Which reminds me…”

“Oh, please, please, I can’t-“ You couldn’t form words again after the first few seconds of the vibrator being placed inside your panties again.

“Say my name.” You felt Ken’s hands reach between the two of you to unzip his pants.

“Ken,” you mewled.

“Again, y/n.”

“Ken,” your voice sounded on the edge of tears again.

“One more time.”

You screamed his name as he bottomed out into you with a single thrust, him holding his hips fully against yours without moving for a moment, groaning into your shoulder at how amazing you felt already clenching and spasming around his cock so so damn tightly from the sensations of the vibrator.

“Ohhhh, y/n.” He purred into your neck, remaining still within you, feeling as if you could push him over the edge just like this.

“Need…to…breathe…”

He kissed away a single tear as it rolled down your face. He pulled out the vibrator again, keeping his cock deep inside you.

You thanked him, gasping for air. “It’s…. it’s so much.”

“Mmmhmmm.” He nuzzled his nose into your hair.

How far could he push it? What was your cutoff point?

He pulled himself out of you then slowly thrust back in again, a strangled noise escaping your throat. He did it again, and again, maintaining this slower pace.

“You’re doing so well, y/n. My good girl takes me so well.”

Your lower lip trembled and he took it between his lips, sucking gently as his hips slowly picked up their pace. You made little kitten noises with every thrust, Ken’s head swimming with them.

“Need….it’s…too…”

Your mouth opened into a silent scream when you felt the vibrator placed back onto your clit, Ken’s hips still bucking into you.

“You’re going to be fine. Just a little bit longer,” He soothed. He reached up to untie one of your restraints, your arm falling onto the bed, and he intertwined his fingers with your own. He knew you were definitely nearing what you could take because your grip was almost non-existent, just barely closing around his hand.

“I’ve got you,” he breathed into your ear. “I’ll give you what you want if you-“

“Please.” Your blissed out, weary voice was barely a whisper.

“Good girl.”

“Please, please let me come, Ken.”

You climaxed just then, Ken forcing himself to not let his own happen as you tightened so effortlessly around him, calling out his name over and over.

You felt barely coherent as Ken untied you, your eyes closed, feeling your limbs one by one being returned to you. The vibrator was removed and turned off and Ken took off the remainder of the fabric that had once been your underwear.

You felt Ken wrap his arms around you gently, still on top of you, hips still nestled between your legs.

He kissed you deeply as he sunk his cock into you once more, your body shivering with cold sweat.

“Just one more time, y/n.”

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