#oh and one final thing I love about this series and the connected stories: the thing about life is that it goes on and the people who leave
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The Monster Falls Apart & The Monster Exposed: forehead kisses and touches
#the monster falls apart#the monster exposed#ogeretsu tanaka#hadakeru kaibutsu#revisted this series because it's both hot AND heartbreaking AND fulfilling (and idc for her more recent series sdfhfnf)#anyways I really love kan-chan. I love the way his story is told from multiple POVs and how his character changed over time#I love how his story with Yumi is not just a black and white 'this person is evil this person is a helpless victim' story because it's more#complicated than that. it's about the cycle of abuse and about trauma and about how both of them were not right for each other.#sometimes loving someone isn't enough and you can't magically make them go back to the person they used to.#like I think Yumi stayed out of guilt and a false sense of pride even when he was for all intents and purposes emotionally cheating#and I think the biggest act of love Kan-chan was still capable of at that time was letting Yumi go and breaking up with him.#And then there's Shuuna. ah man. I like that he's sooo out of his depth lol#he's soo in love and he has no idea how to tackle the whole mess that an older Kan-chan is but like#the love they have for each other and the way they DO manage to get through to each other? yea.#you can really feel the difference in maturity at times and that's also a really well done characterization!!#I liked the one author's comment where it's said about him that he went through love on easy mode until he met Kan-chan haha#also the flashbacks... that's a lotta baggage. like I don't blame Yumi for not knowing and it makes sense Kan-chan won't forgive himself#but still. he was never just some evil guy who did that shit out of pure malice when he was experiencing so much abuse and pressure.#(which doesn't make his actions any more okay but it makes his character more complicated and tragic.)#oh and one final thing I love about this series and the connected stories: the thing about life is that it goes on and the people who leave#our lives still continue living in this world. and you may choose or just happen to never meet again.#and no matter who hurt who the memories of each other will remain. the bad. but also the good.#and hopefully you get to continue on making new- making good memories.
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op81 | best he'll ever write
summary: [ author!oscar piastri x f!driver!reader — social media au ] being the partner and muse of a celebrated author means that fans start connecting the dots sooner rather than later
faceclaim: gracie abrams
author’s note: i'm secretly a ya romcom book girlie and i feel like that shows SO MUCH in this fic 🙈 delusional for life!
[ masterlist / guidelines / lola's masterlist / series masterlist ]
liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, liakblock and 534,230 others
geotag: melbourne, australia
yourusername short break down under 🐨
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user great race at the australian gp y/n!
↪ user first points of the season let's goooo
↪ yourusername and hopefully many more to come 🙌
logansargeant STRAYAAA 🦘🇦🇺🦘🇦🇺
↪ yourusername VEGEMITE ON TOAST 🤤
↪ user sometimes i forget that logan and y/n are both gen z 😂
user the puppy is so adorable 🥺
↪ user i wonder whose it is 👀 y/n's said that her schedule doesn't allow for pets
oscarpiastri not my birthday cake...
↪ yourusername sorry not sorry 😉
↪ user who the hell is oscar piastri and why is y/n replying to his comment 😭
↪ user don't you talk about my favourite best-selling author like that 🤺
oscarpiastri has added to their story
seen by yourusername, logansargeant, jennyhan and 124,203 others
you replied to oscarpiastri's story
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 3,393,210 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername can't believe that little kid is now a 3-time nyt best-selling author 🥹 so proud of you oscarpiastri 💗 i haven't been able to put eighty-one seconds down 📖 available in bookstores near you!
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user i love how y/n always supports and promotes oscar's books 🥺
↪ user they're so adorable together my heart can't take it
oscarpiastri Thanks for the encouragement. Couldn't have done it without you 👍
↪ yourusername damn right you couldn't have 😤
user okay but who took the photo of y/n 👀
↪ user i'm betting it was oscar 😜
↪ user hello what 😳😳😳
↪ user oh my sweet summer child...
liked by yourusername, hachetteaus, johngreenwritesbooks and 293,192 others
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oscarpiastri Thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me. Eighty-One Seconds is finally yours and we can't be more happy to share it with you. As many of you have guessed, it is my homage to Y/N and all the time we have spent together. My wife, my love, my heart. I'm grateful that you're in my life. Forgive me for re-using my words, but here's to eighty-one more years together.
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user hold on a damn second 🤚 his WIFE??? when was this a thing 🧐
↪ yourusername 🤭
↪ user give us answers please 🙏 i haven't had peace since oscar posted this
yourusername i love you too, oscar jack piastri 🤍
↪ user oh he literally named his mc after himself 😭
↪ user GOODBYE??? JACK AS IN HIS MIDDLE NAME??? oh my god they really weren't subtle
williamsracing signed copy when 😏
↪ hachetteaus already on its way 🫡
user honestly i'm surprised they managed to hide their relationship for this long 💀
↪ user oh they did NOT we were just blind
↪ logansargeant I didn't find out until I got the wedding invitation in the mail 🤝
↪ landonorris i think that's just cause you're oblivious mate 😂
↪ logansargeant what???
↪ landonorris they literally make out all the time in williams hospitality
↪ yourusername lando... 😒
user if your man isn't writing a book professing his love for you, what's he doing with his life?
↪ user oscar's set the standard 😌
likes and reblogs are appreciated!
taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii @julesbabey @flannelforthetoads @misartymis @c-losur3
#solwriting#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1#f1#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#f1 social media au#f1 imagine#f1 smau#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic
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Minecraft Live 2024 Highlights
I've been lied to, they started early!
It's ("just") youtubers/streamers talking abt what minecraft means to them. 15th anniversary celebration moments
dantdm is here!! (on video)
i saw someone say "please bring back copper".... who took copper from you,,
ENDERCUP MENTION!!!!!!!
throwback to when everyone wanted the final sequence of endercup to be a teaser of a new end update (but maybe this time????? 👀👀👀)
One final compilation of all the big youtubers right now (including a Lot of familiar faces from hermitcraft, life series, rats, even rtgame!)
Inside footage of the mincraft stockholm office! (Incredible decoration hoooly)
not the movie mention 💀
the original minecraft trailer!!!! that's the one that got me to play....
jeb! recapping this year
change of pace in releasing features???
more frequent regular updates instead of the big yearly one!! like the armadillos
two drops that will release in the next few months!
First drop new unique biome
Second drop is a combination of two things: hardcore mode in bedrock, and bundles!!
VILLAGER NEWS INTERRUPTION
SHOUTOUT TO INCLUDING STEVE IN THE LISTING OF MONSTERS BY THE VILLAGERS
rip villager number 31
rip... all the villagers?
new monster<333333333
few things i can say about the way they introduced the minecraft movie other than the fact it came directly after the banger villager news horror story and that i grimaced at their word choice. it might have included "authentic".
at least chat is no longer fighting! they're very united in their hatred <3
this entire segment has me starting tiredly into the camera like i'm on the office.
"one meter by one meter was too big" go order a fucking creeper. looking at the uncanny valley and feeling at home IS THE POINT
minecraft in real life experience!!!! (a la that one van gogh exhibit if you know that)
New biome announcement!!
OOOO IT'S LIKE A DEAD FOREST BETWEEN DARK OAK AND SPRUCE CALLED THE PALE GARDEN
2x2 grey trees, hanging moss, silence, Meant to be creepy at night
SOMETHING LURKING IN THE SHADOWS
created for low visibility, new grey moss (hanging like vines and block and carpet!)
CREAKING A TREE-LIKE CREATURE, HARD TO SEE EXCEPT THE YELLOW EYES IT HAS/ IT DOESNT TAKE DAMAGE BC IT'S CONNECTED TO A BLOCK IN THE CANOPY
creaking is a hivemind puppet of the creaking heart block!!! you need to destroy that to kill the creaking
THE CREAKING ONLY MOVES WHEN YOU LOOK AWAY. DON'T. BLINK.
the creaking heart drops as a block and can be placed by players <3
i love this guy smsmsmsmsm
pale oak wood set!!!!! WHITE WOOD
moss inspired by weeping willow trees and spanish moss!!
new wood type is for bdubs personally. i think.
return to villager news! news reporter villager 9 survived along with the nitwit, who is using this newfound power to get his justice
... so no end update [breaks skateboard]
but aftershow pale garden playing!
i love him so much,,,,,
peak commentary: "....whoops"
it feels mean to say but my main takeaway from them showing off the little village they made using different material in combination with the pale oak is "oh none of these people are very good at building" very 2015 vibes. they shouldve just given scar and bdubs a texture pack
creaking hard needs to be aligned between two pale oak logs for it to activate!! making for easy on/off switches
the block stays on and red as long as a creaking is spawned in!
this means that 1) red heart flooring will have Basements of creaking mistreatment and 2) if you want cool particle beams, pray your server doesn't have peta
competition of farming creaking hearts that keeps spawning more creakings? banger design honestly. in gridrunners when
group of creaking has officially been deemed a crunch <3
ignoring a certain movie, absolute banger of a minecraft live. Very excited to see the next releases come to the game!
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Burning Desire
Eris Vanserra x Reader
Series Masterlist Part 4 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 6 - Embers to Ice
word count: 17k (AAAAA?) content: [ explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV, BDSM, power dynamics, bondage, gags, sensory deprivation, pain play, spanking, paddling, flogging, begging, degradation, praise | infidelity, emotional infidelity, explicit language, alcohol, drinking, smoking (cigarettes, marijuana), bitches are fake as fuck, bad rebound choices, i.e. casually fucking someone who you KNOW has had an actual crush on you for years and not caring, the Vanserra family is a loving one in this he deserves happiness ] summary: In a depression following being caught cheating, a troubling phone call brings a harsh revelation. Distraught and in need of comfort, you turn to Eris, who's been trying to reach out since that night. He provides the emotional and physical escape you need. author's note: oh. my. god. i've been working on this for what feels like a decade i feel like years have been taken off of my life. school has been killer (negative), writing this was killer (positive), and i hope you enjoy >:)
It’s been two weeks.
Two weeks of rotting in bed, drowning in self-pity, and starting your days with cigarettes and bottles of rum. Over a week ago, you threw your phone into the drawer of your nightstand, barely resisting the urge to post a pity-filled story for your close friends. Before you essentially vanished, you noticed texts from Feyre and Mor. That was nothing out of the ordinary, but you didn't read them, dreading their content. Were they upset? Angry? What did they think of you? Were the messages even about the situation? You couldn't say if they knew or not.
You also received messages from Az, Eris, and Tarquin. Their concern surprised you, figuring that bro code would have outranked you on the list of priorities. But then, were they even still talking? If you were Cassian, you’d probably cut off all communication.
It was a complicated situation. They all worked together and had for years. They couldn’t just walk away; they were bound by contracts. You wondered how practice was faring if it was even happening. By now, they must have realized that Cassian wasn’t speaking to you. Whether they kept things private or shared the news with Feyre, Mor, or anyone else, you had no idea. You hoped they had the sense not to all come downstairs at once after your departure with Cassian. But even if they were careful, it must have been noticeable when they started reappearing suddenly.
Two weeks of these thoughts hurtling through your mind.
You haven’t told your mother why you showed up disheveled at her door in the night. How could you? You couldn’t bear to face her after admitting what you’ve done.
But as the hours stretch endlessly, a surge of loneliness (only the latest of many) finally drives you to your phone. You respond to the texts from Azriel and Tarquin, reassuring them that you’re as fine as you can be. When you open the text thread with Eris, you’re caught off guard.
Hey, just checking in. How are you holding up?
If you need someone to talk to I’m around. Seriously.
Look, I get that it might seem weird coming from me, but I’m genuinely concerned. No strings, I just want to make sure you’re okay.
I’m not trying to pry, but isolation doesn’t help. If you need a break from everything, my line’s always open.
You sit there, staring at the string of messages, each one making you feel a little more seen, a little more cared for. You aren’t even sure you want to acknowledge that right now. It’s almost too much, the kindness wrapped in Eris’ words, especially when everything else feels like it’s crumbling around you.
But Eris’ texts… they’re a lifeline, a small thread of connection in a sea of isolation. You pick up your phone again, reading through the messages once more, feeling the sincerity behind them. The idea of responding, of reaching out, is both comforting and terrifying. But the thought of facing all of this alone, of letting it continue to eat away at you in silence, is somehow worse.
Your fingers start to move, typing out a response before you can second-guess yourself.
you’re not prying, thanks for checking in. captain morgan’s been keeping me company lmfao
No sooner do you turn your phone off and toss it onto the bed beside you does the screen light up again with a buzz. That was fast.
Sounds like he’s good company, but maybe not the best listener. How about a real conversation instead?
You can almost hear the playful tone in his words, a lightness that cuts through the heavy fog of your thoughts. It’s enough to make you smile, just a little, even as the weight of everything else still hangs over you.
Another buzz and his next message appears.
Seriously, if you want to talk, my door’s open. No pressure, just an offer.
You can tell he’s trying to strike a balance, not pushing it too hard but still getting through your head that he’s there. It’s disarming in a way, and it leaves you wondering if maybe, just maybe, you should take him up on that offer.
thanks eris, i might take you up on that. it’s just… a lot rn, yknow?
There’s a pause, the seconds ticking by as you wait for his reply. You don’t have to wait long, and it’s as straightforward a reply as you expected.
I get it. You didn’t make the mess alone, just wanted you to know you don’t have to deal with it alone. And if you want to get out of your place for a bit, my offer still stands. You can even invite the captain as your plus one if that helps.
You smile at that, a small huff of amusement escaping you. The thought of getting out of your old childhood bedroom, of not being surrounded by the same four walls that have seen you at your lowest, is more appealing than you’d like to admit. Maybe a change of scenery, and the chance to talk things out with someone, would help.
Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you think about how to respond. Part of you wants to dive in and take him up on the offer right away, but another part of you hesitates, unsure how it would look if Cassian found out. You decide to keep things simple. You don’t respond.
Without paying any mind to the countless social media, text, and call notifications from your other friends, you open your texts with Nesta and make a FaceTime call. The thought of her blunt honesty is a small comfort in your otherwise bleak current existence.
Her face appears on the screen, and though her expression is one of surprise and concern, you can’t help but feel a twinge of relief.
“Where’ve you been? You look…”
She trails off, her eyes narrowing as she takes in your appearance. You glance at yourself in the small window at the top corner of the screen. Your eyes are puffy and red, your face is pale, and the bags under your eyes seem darker than ever.
“Talk to me,” Nesta says, her voice gentle but firm, as if trying to cut through the fog of your despair.
You draw a deep breath, the weight of your emotions pressing heavily on your chest. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit, your voice trembling. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart. I’m a fucking mess.”
Nesta’s gaze softens further, her concern palpable. She leans in slightly, her tone soothing yet resolute. “You can tell me whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m here.”
The hesitation is palpable as you search for the right words, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. Finally, you find the courage to confess. “I messed up, Nesta. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”
Nesta’s expression tightens, her eyes flicking to something off-screen for a moment before she returns her focus to you. She runs a hand through her hair, a sigh escaping her lips as she gathers her thoughts. “Just... try to explain what happened.”
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before asking, “Do you know what’s been going on?”
Nesta’s gaze momentarily shifts away, a flicker of something you can’t quite read passing over her face. “I’ve heard bits and pieces,” she begins, her tone deliberately vague. “But I’d rather hear it from you.”
Sensing her evasiveness, you decide to give her a broad overview. You explain the guilt and confusion you're feeling, how everything seemed to unravel and make the situation worse than you could have imagined. You describe the betrayal and the weight of not knowing how to mend things. By the time you’ve caught her up, your words are coming out through hysterical cries and gasps for air between sobs.
Nesta listens quietly, absorbing the emotional weight of your words. Her expression reflects a mix of sympathy and contemplation as she processes the gravity of what you’ve shared.
“I broke that boundary to hell, Nesta. I ruined everything.” Your voice trembles with the weight of your confession, the words feeling like a leaden anchor pulling you down.
Nesta’s brows knit together, her concern deepening as she tilts her head slightly. “What boundary…?” she asks, her tone gentle yet probing, as if trying to piece together the fragments of your unraveling story.
You swallow hard, trying to steady your breath, but a sniffle escapes you. “They’ve all been pretty flirty with me since the beginning, and Cassian and I… we decided early on that we didn’t mind it?” You pause, glancing down at your hands as you fidget with the red scrunchie around your wrist, twisting the fabric between your fingers. “So we’d just let them like… make comments… touch up on me a little–”
A sudden, sharp gasp crackles through the phone speaker, cutting through your words like a knife. Your eyes narrow as you stare at the screen in confusion. That sound hadn’t come from Nesta; you’d been watching her intently this whole time, and her lips hadn’t moved.
You furrow your brows, your heart quickening with unease. “What was that? Is there someone there with you?” you ask, trying to keep the edge of suspicion out of your voice, but failing.
But her face is the image of calm, save for the confusion in her furrowed brows. “Huh? Oh, it was just the TV,” she says, quickly flipping her phone around to show you the screen. The shaky camera reveals a reality show playing in the background, the exaggerated drama of strangers’ lives filling the awkward silence.
But your gut tells you something’s off. The way her hand shook just a little as she moved the phone, the tension still lingering in her posture. It all feels wrong. Despite her attempt to brush it off, the seed of doubt has been planted, taking root in the back of your mind.
Nesta flips the phone back to face her, and her voice is smooth and encouraging as she speaks. “So, what are you going to do? Are you going to talk to him?”
You hesitate, letting out a sigh as you rub your temple. “I don’t know. I’m scared of what he’ll say, or worse... what he won’t say. I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of rejection, Nesta.”
She nods slowly, her expression softening into one of understanding. “You have to do what feels right for you, but running away won’t make it any easier in the long run. I know it’s—and I’m sorry to say this—your fault, but you still deserve to know where things stand, even if it’s hard to face.”
You shift uncomfortably, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “I know, I just... I need time to think. To figure out what I want, what I’ll do.”
Nesta listens patiently, offering her quiet support as you continue to spill your thoughts. The conversation drifts from your immediate fears to the what-ifs. She shares some of her own experiences, her voice a mix of tough love and genuine care, giving you just enough space to feel heard without feeling judged.
The minutes tick by, and soon you find yourself leaning back into the pillows, the exhaustion creeping in. You talk about other things too, and an hour passes before you even realize it, the conversation winding down naturally, both of you running out of things to say. It’s a comfortable silence now, a brief respite from the storm of emotions you’ve been weathering.
“I should let you go,” you finally say, your voice soft. “Thanks for listening, Nes. I... I needed this.”
Nesta smiles, a touch of warmth breaking through her usual stoic demeanor. “Anytime. You know I’m here for you.”
You nod, feeling a little lighter, if only for a moment. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
As you move to end the call, you hear it—faint, but unmistakable. A voice, muffled but clear enough to make out the words: “No way–”
Your heart skips a beat, but before you can react, the call disconnects, leaving you staring at the screen, that single phrase echoing in your mind. The voice wasn’t Nesta’s, and it sure as hell didn’t come from the TV. You know that voice. It’s familiar in a way that makes your stomach churn, your pulse quicken. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks, a cold wave of dread washing over you.
It was Elain’s. You’re sure of it. You sit there for a moment, phone still in hand, your mind racing. But why would she be there hidden from view? Why wouldn’t she just say hello or at least make her presence known? The questions tumble over each other, forming a gnawing pit of unease in your gut.
Then, like pieces of a puzzle snapping together, the thought hits you: Elain was listening in, but she didn’t want you to know she was there. The secrecy, the way Nesta quickly tried to cover it up. It wasn’t just about eavesdropping. No, it felt intentional, like Elain was trying to gain insight into your situation with Cassian. Your breath catches in your throat as the implications sink in. A cold, hard truth begins to crystallize in your mind. She wanted to know the details because it mattered to her. It mattered because she’s involved—because she and Cassian are…
You don’t want to finish the thought, but it’s there, undeniable and ugly. Elain and Cassian. It explains the secrecy, the way Nesta tried to protect her, and the sickening feeling gnawing at your insides.
The weight of it is almost unbearable, pressing down on you as you sit there, phone in hand, processing the cruel truth that’s just come to light. Elain and Cassian. How? Why? You never saw any sign in their interactions before. The bitterness of the revelation is a sharp, relentless edge in your chest — you need to do something, anything, to shake off this feeling.
You push yourself up from the bed with a determined resolve, your mind racing with anger and the need to reclaim some sense of control. First things first: you need to wash off the remnants of the last two weeks, the sweat and guilt that cling to you.
The hot water of the shower is a welcome relief against your skin, and you let the steam envelop you, trying to wash away the emotions churning inside. You lather up, scrubbing away the sweat and liquor and cigarette smoke, letting the water run over you until you feel clean, both physically and mentally. You stand under the spray, letting the water cascade down your body as if it could cleanse the memories away. When you’re done, you run a comb through your hair, detangling the wet strands with care before blow-drying and styling it, every strand perfectly in place and your arms sore by the time you’re done.
You reach for your phone, fingers hovering over the screen as you debate your next move. Finally, with a deep breath, you type out a message to Eris:
you still up for company?
It’s simple, to the point, and carries the weight of everything you’re feeling right now. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, but you hit send before you can overthink it, nerves and anticipation bubbling in your chest. As you wait for his reply, you glance at yourself in the mirror, taking in the freshly styled hair, and the clean skin. You look entirely different than you did this morning. You’re someone in control, someone who knows what she wants. Your phone buzzes.
Absolutely. I’ll swing by and pick you up.
You weren’t expecting that, but you don’t hesitate before replying with the address. His response is swift.
See you in 15.
Your eyes linger on the screen, absorbing his words as you double-tap and leave a heart his message. Something is grounding about the certainty in his response. No hesitation, no questions, just action. You set your phone down and take one last look in the mirror, a quiet determination settling in your chest. He’ll be here soon, and you have just enough time to get dressed.
You see Eris pulling up through your window, the white Jaguar rolling to a stop, and you take a deep breath before heading toward the door. As you walk down the driveway towards him, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the car’s window. Jean shorts and a hand-cropped t-shirt—casual and understated.
Eris’s eyes meet yours as you approach the car, his expression softening with concern. There’s no sign of the smirk you usually see on his face. Just a steady gaze that feels sincere. He leans over the center console and opens the door for you, a simple gesture, but one that makes your heart feel lighter.
As you settle into the passenger seat, you set your tote bag down in the footwell. It holds a mostly full bottle of Captain Morgan, a pack of Newports, some gum, and a lighter you grabbed on your way out.
Eris’s eyes flick to the neck of the bottle sticking out of the bag before he asks, “Bringing the party with you?”
You shrug, offering a faint smile. “You did say I was allowed a plus one.”
He nods, his tone softening. “That I did... You okay?” he asks, pulling away from the curb.
You glance at him, a bit surprised at the shift from teasing to concern. “Not really,” you admit quietly.
Eris gives a small nod, his eyes still on the road. “Could’ve guessed the answer, huh?” he remarks, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly.
You offer a wry smile and a quiet “yeah.” You glance out the window as the sunlight reflects off passing buildings. “But I figured getting out of the house might not hurt. What were you thinking of doing?”
Eris keeps his eyes on the road. “I can swing by somewhere if you need to grab something or,” he pauses, a sly grin forming. “Or if you’re up for unwinding a bit…”
You raise an eyebrow, catching the playful glint in his eye. “What are you suggesting?”
He shrugs, one hand gripping the steering wheel casually. “We could stop by my plug’s place and pick something up, if you’re looking to take the edge off. He’s got some good shit.”
You lean back in your seat, considering his offer. The idea of numbing your mind with something other than liquor is very tempting. You glance at Eris, his casual demeanor giving nothing away, but you can sense that beneath the surface, he’s paying close attention to your reaction.
You nod, feeling a sense of resolve settling in. “Let’s do it. I could use a change of pace.”
Eris keeps his eyes on the road, but there’s a flicker of approval in them. “Alright, then,” he says with a grin, shifting lanes smoothly as he changes direction. His hands move with practiced ease, one gripping the steering wheel and the other shifting gears with effortless precision. You glance up from your phone just in time to see him reach into the center console. He pulls out a sleek pack of Dunhills, taps one out, and lights it with a quick flick of his lighter.
The cigarette sits casually between his lips, its ember glowing softly as its smoke curls lazily around him. “Want a cig?” he asks, his tone casual as he cracks his window.
You hesitate for a moment, then nod, reaching out for the cigarette sticking out of the pack. Eris passes it to you with a small knowing smile, his eyes flicking briefly to meet yours before returning to the road and lowering your window for you. You take a drag, the smoke filling your lungs and momentarily dulling the edges of your lingering unease. It’s quite the difference from the menthol kick of your usual Newports. The flavor is richer, with a deep, earthy undertone that’s almost woody. It feels more refined, less about the immediate hit, and more about a lingering, sophisticated aftertaste. You exhale, the smoke curling in the air, and the taste leaves a warmth that’s oddly comforting.
“Helps, doesn’t it?” he glances at you, a touch of curiosity in his gaze.
You exhale slowly, watching the smoke get pulled out the window. “A little… Thanks,” you say, and you both know it isn’t just for the cigarette.
Eris nods, his grin widening slightly. “Anytime. We’ve got a bit of a drive, so just get comfortable. We’ll hit the place soon.”
You settle back as Eris merges onto the highway. The sun is high, casting a warm light over the passing scenery. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the classic rock on the radio make for a relaxing ride. You gaze out the window, watching the landscape shift as the car speeds along. After finishing your cigarette, you hold onto the butt, not willing to litter. Eris is focused on the road, so you just hold onto it, unsure what else to do.
A few minutes later, Eris chuckles and glances over, eyebrow raised. “Were you going to hold onto it the whole ride? Come on, you can’t be serious.”
You give a small laugh, shaking your head. “Well, I wasn’t going to throw it out the window.”
Eris smirks, his eyes flicking to the cigarette butt in your hand. “Just give it to me.”
He reaches over, fingers brushing against your wrist as he tries to take it from you. But you’re quicker, pulling your hand away with a playful glare. “No!” you protest, holding the butt out of his reach. “You’re gonna throw it out the window!”
His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans closer, making another grab for it. “I won’t, I promise.” And for some reason, you believe him.
He takes the cigarette butt from your fingers and, with a practiced motion, opens the center console and undoes the locking mechanism on a glass jar. He drops it in, the jar already filled with likely a pack’s worth. The jar seals with a soft click, likely why you hadn’t noticed any lingering smell before. He shuts the jar and console, his attention never wavering from the road.
The smell-proof jar, not even considering littering, doing it all while keeping his eyes on the road—it’s the kind of thing that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
The drive stretches on with the radio playing softly in the background. You watch the scenery blur past as the car weaves effortlessly through traffic. With the windows still cracked, you catch a glimpse of Eris’s auburn hair tousled by the breeze. The sun casts long shadows across the highway, and you find a strange comfort in the steady rhythm of the drive. Eventually, Eris slows the car, steering off the main road and into a sleek, gated driveway. The place is an upscale, modern mansion with neatly trimmed hedges. Not what you expected. He parks near the entrance and turns to you with a casual smile.
“I’ll leave the car running,” he says. “Lock up, I’ll be quick.”
You nod, watching as he gets out and heads toward the front door. The gate closes behind him with a gentle click, leaving you alone in the plush interior of the car. After a few minutes, Eris reappears with a small, discreet bag in his pocket. He slips back into the driver’s seat, the bag placed neatly into the center console.
The car pulls out of the driveway, and Eris’s eyes flick toward you as he navigates the streets with practiced ease.
“Any special spots in mind, or are you up for anywhere?” he asks, the hint of a grin in his voice.
You shrug, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Nah, yours is fine.”
He gives a teasing scoff, putting a hand on his chest as he speaks. “My place is special, (y/n), you wound me.”
His words pull a genuine laugh from you. It really wasn’t that funny, but hearing your name on his tongue so casually stirs a nervous flutter in your chest.
“What’s so special about it?”
“Besides the view, or the pool, or the game room?” he pauses for dramatic effect, lowering his voice to a murmur. “Yours, truly.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Is that so? And what makes you so special?”
Eris lets out a soft laugh, his gaze flicking to you before returning to the road. “Well, I’ve been told I’ve got a talent for making things unforgettable.”
“Someone’s got a massive ego.”
He grins, his eyes glinting with confidence. “Guilty as charged. You like it though.”
You roll your eyes at that, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto your face any longer. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
“Ah, you didn’t deny it. I’ll take it.”
“You’re impossible,” you laugh softly, shaking your head.
As the highway fades into the background, the road before you begins to wind through lush greenery. The towering trees start to crowd in, their canopies forming a dappled, sunlit tunnel. Fields of wildflowers stretch out on either side. The road curves gently, revealing glimpses of a large, elegant house nestled among the trees, its silhouette framed by the tranquil lake shimmering in the late afternoon light.
When you step inside, the first thing you notice is how effortlessly cool the place feels—like it’s been designed with a blend of sophistication and laid-back charm. The living room is spacious and airy, with large windows that let in plenty of natural light, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden floors. The furniture is a mix of sleek modern pieces and cozy, oversized cushions that invite you to sink in and relax.
Eris heads over to a low cabinet and retrieves a small grinder and some neatly rolled-up papers from a hidden drawer. He moves with casual confidence, clearly in his element. You couldn’t help but wonder how many women he’d invited here for a smoke before you, having to remind yourself that this wasn’t that. You’re here as a friend who needs an attentive ear.
“So,” he says, flashing a grin as he begins grinding the weed, “what do you think of the place?”
You settle into the sofa, taking in the room’s ambiance. The walls are adorned with tasteful art, and the scent of cedarwood and something subtly herbal fills the air. It’s inviting.
“Not bad, huh?” Eris continues, leaning against the cabinet and looking down at the papers in his hand.
You chuckle, glancing around. “Yeah, it’s alright.”
His eyes dart up to meet yours, a playful, mock-surprised smile on his face. “Crazy…” he murmurs.
You roll your eyes with a smile. “Oh come on, you know it’s a nice place. I'm not gonna shower you with more compliments than you need.”
He chuckles, shaking his head as he sits on the couch, starting on the joint. The sound of the grinder and the rustle of the papers are the background to your conversation. “Fair enough. But before we get too cozy with this,” he nods toward his work, “let’s talk. I’d rather hear how you’re really doing.”
You hesitate, feeling a bit vulnerable all of a sudden. “I don’t know if I can get through it all sober.”
Eris looks at you with a soft, reassuring smile, his fingers pausing briefly as they work the paper. “Just try.”
For a moment, you’re silent, the sound of the grinder filling the space between you. You look around the room, at the art on the walls, the low light casting a warm glow over everything. It’s easier to focus on that than on the storm inside your head.
But then you find his gaze again, and the quiet concern in his eyes makes something inside you crack, just a little. "It’s just… everything’s been so overwhelming lately," you begin, your voice soft. "I keep making these choices that… I don't know how to explain it… I’m digging myself into a deep, deep hole. And I don’t know how to get out." You hesitate as you try to find the right words. “It’s just… I don’t even know why I let it happen. I mean, I love Cassian, he’s everything to me. But every time I’m with you,” the words catch in your throat, and you quickly clarify, “with all of you, I mean… I feel like I’m losing myself, like I’m just drifting through all of it without thinking. It’s like I’m not even in control anymore.”
Your voice trembles as the floodgates open, the words spilling out faster than you can stop them. “And the guilt… it’s eating me alive. Every time I’d see Cassian, it was like I was drowning in it. When we went to sleep at night, when he’d kiss me, when we cooked dinner, when he’d tell me he loves me and I said it back with a straight face, knowing what I’ve done… I keep asking myself why I did it, why I kept doing it, but I don’t have an answer. I don’t even know if I’m looking for one or if I’m just trying to justify something that can’t be justified.”
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the weight of it all is too much. “I thought I could handle it, that I could keep everything separate, but it’s all tangled up now. I’m tangled up. And I don’t know how to fix it, or if I even can.” You pause, swallowing hard as you try to gather your thoughts. Focusing on how methodically he rolls the joint is the only way you can keep from crying. “The past couple of weeks have been a nightmare,” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “Every day feels like I’m just… going through the motions. I wake up, and for a split second, everything’s fine. But then it all comes crashing back, and I remember what I’ve done. It’s like this constant weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe.”
There’s a heavy silence as you finish, the room feeling almost too quiet. You glance at Eris, the exhaustion in your eyes reflecting your need for a break from the emotional turmoil. “I can’t keep talking about this right now,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. “I just need to… I don’t know.”
Eris nods, a knowing look in his eyes. “Yeah, I got you,” He stands up, moving with a relaxed confidence, and heads towards the kitchen. You watch him, feeling a small flicker of relief at the prospect of a distraction. He returns with two glasses of ice, setting them down on the coffee table before lighting the joint and pointing towards your bag for the rum. When you reach to pour the drinks, he gently takes the bottle from you, pouring them himself.
You take the glass when he offers it, the alcohol warming your insides and helping to dull the sharp edges of your thoughts. Eris hands you the joint, a small, encouraging smile on his lips. “Here’s to a temporary escape,” he says, his tone lighter now.
You take a slow drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs and the effects of the alcohol and weed start to mingle in your system. The combination is soothing, and you feel the tension begin to ease. As the minutes pass, you can feel the fog of intoxication settling in, and your thoughts become less jagged.
A while later, the room is darker now, the only light coming from the soft glow of the lamp on the side table. The drinks are empty and the bottle of rum you brought stands proudly, and emptily, in the center of the table. The joint is long finished, and the conversation has shifted from heavy to light. You and Eris are more relaxed on the couch, and the air is filled with more classic rock, the remnants of laughter, and the gentle hum of your voices.
You lean back, feeling pleasantly buzzed, the haze of the alcohol and weed wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth. Eris is sitting right next to you, his leg pressed against yours, his hand resting casually on the cushion next to you. The shared warmth and comfortable silence between you feel natural.
“You know,” you say, your voice slightly slurred but lighthearted, “I didn’t think I’d find myself here tonight, like this. But... I’m glad I did.”
Eris glances over at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Sometimes the unexpected turns out to be the best part of the night.”
You chuckle softly, the sound mingling with the music playing in the background. “Yeah, it’s funny how things work out. I definitely needed this more than I realized.”
He nods, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “It’s good to let go now and then. Just don’t forget there’s still shit to unpack when you’re ready.”
You let out a deep sigh, your gaze drifting around the dimly lit room. There’s a moment of hesitation as the weight of your earlier conversation looms on the edge of your thoughts. The alcohol and weed have softened the edges, but the heaviness is still there.
Eris shifts slightly, his hand moving a bit closer in the process. Whether it was intentional or not, you don’t know. “You know,” he says gently, “it’s not every day you find someone willing to listen without judgment. You should take advantage of that.”
You take a deep breath, feeling the pressure build behind your eyes. “Cassian… he’s been nothing but loving, nothing but kind to me. And it kills me, Eris. It kills me to look at him and know that I’ve betrayed him in the worst possible way. Multiple times.” You feel the lump in your throat as you continue, the warmth of the alcohol making it easier to let your words flow. “I keep trying to think of ways to fix it, to find some sort of answer or way to redeem myself. But...” Your eyes search the dim room as if trying to find some clarity in the shadows.
“I keep going over every moment, every decision, wondering where things went so fucking wrong. It’s like replaying a movie where I know the ending is tragic, but I can’t look away. I did this shit to myself…
“The hardest part is that he saw everything. He didn’t even need me to confess; he saw it with his own eyes. And everytime I replay that night, I think about how coldly he looked at me. He’s never looked at me like that before. Not that I don’t deserve it.” You glance at Eris, the weight of your emotions clear in your eyes. “I’m trapped in this cycle of guilt and regret, and it’s suffocating. I don’t even know what I’m looking for anymore—whether it’s forgiveness, understanding, or just a way to get rid of all this guilt. The thought of facing Cass again… God, I can’t…”
Eris’s eyes narrow slightly as he takes it all in, draping an arm across the back of the couch. You aren’t quite close enough for it to wrap around you.
You mentally chastise yourself for wishing you were. Thinking like that is what got you into this mess.
His voice is low but steady when he speaks. “You’re human. You made choices. Bad ones, sure, but it doesn’t make you a monster.” He pauses, his gaze intense. “It’s easy to get lost in guilt. But you’re not doing anyone any favors by going MIA. Especially not Cassian.”
You scoff. “Cass doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“How are you so sure?” he asks, his fingers drumming lightly against the couch, the rhythm steady and patient, unlike the chaos unleashed in your mind by the simple question.
The Facetime with Nesta shoves itself to the forefront of your mind as if your subconscious has been holding it back all this time. You’d heard Elain’s voice in the background, imagined her laughter mingling with Cassian’s, imagined him sharing her breath, his tongue deep in—
The thought hit you like a sucker punch, just as the air had been knocked out of your lungs the moment you’d put the pieces together.
“I’m pretty sure Cassian is fucking Elain,” you blurt out, your voice shaking with the weight of the confession.
Eris’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes sharpen. “Why do you think that?” he asks calmly, though there’s a new edge to his voice.
You swallow hard, the memory still raw. “When I was on a call with Nesta, I heard Elain in the background. She was trying to listen in on me ranting about this all to Nesta… She didn’t even say hi to me, didn’t let me know she was there. Why would she do that unless she was hiding something?”
Eris raises an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but curious. “You might be reading too much into this,” he says, but the sharpness of your gaze makes him backtrack quickly. “Alright, alright, I didn’t mean it like that. Just… how are you so sure they’re involved?”
You exhale sharply, frustration evident. “Cassian is incredibly vindictive in bed,” you say, thinking back to all the times he’d gone hard on you just for catching you making eyes at one of the guys. “I’ve been through his friends, I’d be more shocked if he didn’t try to go through mine.”
Eris’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. “Most of his friends.” He doesn’t elaborate but the implication is clear. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but it’s not always best to assume the worst.”
A fleeting thought crosses your mind. Eris is right. You and he never crossed that line, despite the heated moments over the years, despite the events the night of Ianthe’s party. If Cassian is dropping you off on your mom’s doorstep just to go after your friends, maybe it’s time for you to stop moping around and start embracing some fun yourself. Why should you sit at home and stew when he’s out there doing who knows what? Who knows who? For all you knew, Nesta had fucked him too. And, honestly, Eris doesn’t look half bad in that black, fitted t-shirt and tailored jeans, the thin silver chain around his neck glinting in the low light. There’s a roguish charm about him, just as there’s always been. It’s something that makes him undeniably tempting.
You look down at your lap with a sigh, a feigned sadness in your eyes, and a playful pout on your lips. “Well, if Cassian’s going to do whatever he wants, maybe I should too.” You look up, letting your gaze linger on him, lowering to his lips before meeting his eyes again.
Eris’s eyes flicker with surprise, but he maintains his cool as he raises a brow. “Is this where we’re headed now? I thought we were in the middle of something a bit more serious.”
You scoot closer to him, close enough for the hand on the back of the couch to rest on your shoulder if he wanted it to. “Maybe I’m tired of pitying myself. Or maybe I’m feeling adventurous.” A glint of mischief sparkles in your eyes before you slip back into your act.
Eris chuckles, a faint smile curling his lips. “A distraction, huh? You know that won’t fix anything.”
You shrug, maintaining your demeanor. “Who says it has to be about fixing anything? Sometimes a little distraction is just what you need,” you level. Tired of the theatrics, you scoot even closer and grab that god-forsaken hand, placing it gently on the back of your neck.
Eris’s fingers linger there, his expression shifting from playful to intrigued before he traces soft patterns on your skin. “Is that right? And here I thought you were just looking for a friendly ear.”
You lean closer, your voice dropping to a softer, more flirtatious tone. “You mean to tell me you didn’t have any other intentions? Not a single fleeting thought?”
Eris’s gaze drops to your lips, his eyes narrowing with intrigue. “So, what are you suggesting? Are we breaking some rules tonight?”
You let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, something like that. A night of enjoyment. No strings attached, just...”
Your words trail off as you close the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a slow, heated kiss. His hand grips the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. It starts slow, almost exploratory, but quickly deepens as you both lose yourselves in the moment. The taste of liquor lingers on his tongue, a heady mix of rum and something uniquely Eris. You savor it, letting the alcohol-infused warmth of the kiss sweep over you. Your lips move against his with increasing urgency, and you gently tug at his lower lip, pulling him closer.
Eris’s hand tightens around the back of your neck, his fingers sliding into your hair as he angles his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue meets yours with a bold, almost possessive stroke, and you pull back just slightly, your breath mingling with his. Your eyes lock, the heat still palpable between you. “I like the taste of you,” you murmur, a playful glint in your eyes.
He exhales, a low, throaty sound that’s part groan, part sigh, as if you’re unraveling him with every word, every touch. It’s the kind of sound that sends a shiver through you, making you feel like you’ve got him right where you want him. His eyes darken with desire and amusement before he leans back in to capture your lips again. This time, the kiss is more intense, a dance of passion and need. His hands roam to your waist, pulling you even closer. The world outside seems to fade away as you both lose yourselves in each other.
Eris’s lips trail down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You arch into him, the sensation of his touch making you shiver. You let out a soft moan as he kisses a sensitive spot just below your ear, making your pulse race. You’re left feeling lightheaded from the drinks and the smoke, and every touch, every caress feels electrifying. His hands slide up to your back, pulling you tighter against him, if possible.
His lips return to yours, and this time, the kiss is unrestrained, filled with a raw, urgent need. You can feel the strength in his arms, the way he holds you close, as if afraid that letting go might make this moment slip away. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. There’s a breathless pause, the intensity of the moment hanging between you. “You said you were feeling adventurous,” he says, and you shrug. “How adventurous?” His voice is low and his words are laced with an intensity that wasn’t there before.
You let out a soft laugh, the sound almost breathless from the heated kiss. “You’re not planning on taking me out back and murdering me, are you?” you joke, looking out the large windows at the sea of tree silhouettes around you.
Eris’s lips curl into a half-smile. “Well, I hadn’t thought of it, but now that you mention it…”
You nudge him playfully, your smile widening.
Eris’s expression turns serious again, though the amusement in his eyes doesn’t fade. “I promise, nothing like that. But I do have something in mind that might be a bit… beyond what you’re used to.”
You look into his eyes, feeling a mix of anticipation and excitement. “I sincerely doubt that,” you say, your voice steady. You’ve had more than your fair share of sexual escapades, indulging in all kinds of experiences in past relationships. And with Cassian, the bedroom was never without a spark—rarely did things stay simple.
Eris’s eyes brighten with satisfaction. “Good to hear.”
He stands and grabs another joint he’d rolled earlier, offering you a hand to help you up. You take it with a playful smile and follow him.
The music fades as you follow Eris down a short flight of steps. The hallway is lined with eclectic art and framed photos. One with Eris surrounded by a bunch of dogs, a grin on his face that’s more genuine than you’ve ever seen. Another with the Vipers, his arm slung casually around Azriel, all of their faces flushed with victory. You have to talk yourself out of paying too much attention to Cassian in that one. There’s even one of him with who you assume is his family, standing in front of a cabin, all smiles and warmth. It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before, and it makes you see him in a different light—one that’s more personal, more real.
At the end of the hall, a large bookshelf stands against the wall. Eris pauses, throwing you a sly glance before reaching for one of the books. He pulls it, then pushes the bookshelf open, revealing a short set of steps leading down into a hidden space below. How cliché.
“After you,” he murmurs, gesturing for you to step inside.
You look at him with creased eyebrows, to which he only gestures his arm in again. You find a lounge, set slightly lower than the rest of the house, with five or so steps leading down into it. The room is richly decorated, with dark wood paneling, plush seating, and warm, ambient lighting that adds to the intimate, secluded atmosphere.
Eris follows you inside, closing the bookshelf door behind him. The room is completely private, a hidden sanctuary within his home. He steps closer, holding the joint he rolled earlier between his fingers. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice carrying a note of quiet pride.
You take a moment to absorb the space, your eyes drifting over the rich details—the king-size bed on the far wall, the soft glow of the lighting, the floor-to-ceiling mirror on one wall, the smooth texture of the dark wood, the way the room seems to envelop you in warmth. It's intimate without being suffocating, luxurious without feeling ostentatious. You notice cabinets discreetly integrated into the walls, their contents hidden behind polished doors. A smirk tugs at your lips as you turn to face him. “I can honestly say I wouldn’t have expected this from you, Eris. A sex dungeon? Really?”
Eris arches a brow, looking mildly offended. “Dungeon? That’s what you’d call it?”
You raise an eyebrow in response, your teasing tone unwavering as you gesture around the room. “Isn’t that what it is? Hidden room, dark wood, all the ambiance… seems like a dungeon to me.”
He steps closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Dungeons are cold and grimey. This is a private lounge, a sanctuary, carefully curated for… specific tastes.”
You can’t help but laugh, the sound echoing softly in the room. “A curated sanctuary, huh? You really do have a way with words.”
Eris’s lips curve into a smirk as he reaches for your hand. “Words, among other things.”
He lets the words hang in the air, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. You arch an eyebrow, leaning in slightly as if challenging him. “Among other things?” you echo, your tone playful. “Care to elaborate?
He steps closer, his gaze steady and full of intent. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he replies, his voice smooth as silk. “But first, I need to know how far you’re willing to go.”
Your heart skips a beat, not out of fear but from the thrill of the unknown. You’re no stranger to pushing boundaries, and something about Eris’s confident, almost predatory demeanor only heightens your anticipation.
Instead of answering directly, you take a step closer, closing the remaining distance between you. “You really think this kind of thing is—What was it you said? ‘Beyond what I’m used to’, was it?” you tease, your lips curving into a smirk.
Eris’s smile widens, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “Alright, alright,” he murmurs before he pulls you in by the small of your back for another heated kiss, and he speaks against your lips. “You have full say in how this goes, I don’t want to go any further than you’re okay with.”
You pull him off by the hair on the nape of his neck, and the muted hiss that escapes him shoots straight to your core. “Oh, well if I’ve got full say,” you say, sarcasm lacing your words. “Give me whatever you think I can take, and then some.” You give him a dazzling smile, but he can only look at you in wonder.
His hands find your waist, giving the flesh there a tight, possessive squeeze. He leans forward, bringing his lips to your ear. “C’mon, pretty girl, strip for me.” His voice is low, almost coaxing, with a soft yet commanding tone that makes your skin tingle.
Though you’re surprised at his suddenness, you don’t hesitate. As you begin to strip away your clothes, Eris steps away, moving toward a large set of deep drawers. He looks back at you as he goes, drinking in your every movement as you peel off each item of clothing. First you shed your shirt, then the shorts, followed by your socks, underwear, and even the scrunchie on your wrist. The air thickens with anticipation as you wait, rather impatiently, to see what he’s looking for.
“Y’know, most guys wouldn’t have their back turned to the beautiful, naked woman in their basement,” you muse, examining your nails as you stand perfectly tall.
“First, it’s not a basement.” He turns to you, black rope in hand, his smirk tinged with an emotion you can’t quite place. “But you’re right, baby. I’m sorry. How about I make it up to you?”
You have to suppress a shiver at his words, or maybe it’s because of the cool air on your bare skin. He takes you in like it’s his first time seeing you, like he didn’t have you practically grinding against the heel of his hand two weeks ago. You’re not sure if it’s the substances in your system or the prospect of doing whatever he can imagine to you, but he feels different today than he had then.
Eris reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out a small, sleek controller. With a quick press of a button, a rig begins to descend from the ceiling, the soft hum of the motor filling the room. He keeps his eyes on you, holding the controller loosely in one hand as the rig stops at around eye level.
His tone is almost casual as he walks back towards you with the rope, the controller goes into his pocket. “Ever use one of these before?” You can only shake your head in response as you walk around the metal hook, thinking for the first time that you may be in over your head. “Good. Go ahead and kneel there for me.”
Eris moves behind you as you kneel, working the rope through the rig and instructing you to place your hands behind your back. The rope isn’t as rough against your skin as you anticipated. His hands work with practiced ease, securing your wrists together. He steps back, watching you with a satisfied expression. Then, with deliberate slowness, he begins to raise the rig, the rope tugging your wrists upward. The position forces you to stand as it continues to rise, his eyes narrowing as you do.
Once you’re in position, bent forward with your arms forced behind you, Eris steps closer again, his fingers tracing the line of your spine. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs against your ear. His fingers skim up your arm, lingering at the nape of your neck. His touch is almost tender, a stark contrast to the tension in the room. “Is it okay if I–”
“Do whatever you want,” you interrupt, your voice steady even as your heart races. “If I don’t like it, I’ll let you know. Just do something, please…” You needed a distraction from your thoughts, and the newness of this all was sobering you up.
A slow, approving smile spreads across his lips as he nods. Without another word, he goes to a cabinet, selecting a few items with deliberate care. When he returns, the scent of him envelops you as he carefully ties a blindfold around your head, plunging you into darkness.
You hear the soft rustle of fabric and the click of something plastic. Before you can dwell on it, the world goes silent as something is placed over your ears. The shift is sudden, disorienting. The subtle hum of the room, even the sound of your own breathing, everything fades away, leaving you in an almost eerie stillness.
The rope tugs uncomfortably, but not painfully, at your wrists, the tension in your arms pulling you taut. Your heart pounds, each beat echoing in your chest, reminding you of the vulnerability you’re allowing yourself. Then you feel it—a gentle tap on your jaw, followed by his thumb brushing against your lower lip, pulling it down slightly. You take the hint, opening your mouth for him. The next thing you feel is cool metal pressing against your lip as he slides a ring gag into place.
“If you need to stop,” he says after raising an ear of the sound-canceling headphones, “shake your head and I’ll check on you. Nod if you understand.”
Just as you do, the pad is back over your ear.
You feel the air shift as he moves around you. Deprived of your sight and sound, your body becomes hypersensitive to every touch, every brush of fabric, every subtle shift in temperature. The tension in the air is palpable, your anticipation growing with each passing second.
A light touch trails down your spine, causing you to shiver involuntarily. The sensation is followed by the warmth of his hand as it settles on your hip, steadying you. You can barely hear your own breath, the sound muffled and distant, heightening the sense of isolation. Then, a gentle tap against your inner thigh. You instinctively spread your legs, the vulnerability of the action sending a rush of heat through your body as his touch lingers, waiting.
Then, without warning, a sharp sting lands across your ass. Your body jerks in response, the sting quickly dissolving into a low, throbbing heat. The unexpected strike pulls a soft whimper from your gagged mouth, but before you can even process it, another comes, and then another, each one precise and measured.
The blows alternate with the soft caress of his hand, the contrast between pleasure and pain pushing you deeper into the headspace he’s crafting for you. The strikes aren’t overwhelming, but each one is enough to remind you of the power he holds in this moment, the control you’ve willingly surrendered.
You lose track of time, each sharp strike followed by soothing touches, the rhythm lulling you into a dazed, almost meditative state. The gag keeps your mouth open, forcing you to focus on the steady rhythm of your breathing, each inhale and exhale carrying a mix of adrenaline and endorphins. The warmth of saliva trickles from the corners of your mouth. The rhythmic stinging across your ass slowly transforms into a heated, throbbing warmth that radiates through your body. Each strike, followed by the soft caress of his hand, leaves you in a heightened state of arousal and anticipation, melding into pain and pleasure that lull you deeper into the experience.
Suddenly, the warmth of his touch disappears, and you’re left in disorienting solitude. The absence of his presence makes you acutely aware of the emptiness left behind, amplifying your anticipation. Without warning, you feel something cool against your inner thigh, followed by the unmistakable sensation of a vibrator pressed against your dripping cunt. It’s startling, and though you can’t hear it, you moan, loud and needy.
His hand is on your hip, steadying you as the vibrations increase in intensity. The buzzing becomes loud and clear as he gently pulls the headphones off, and you hear them thud as they fall somewhere. The sudden reintroduction to sound is jarring as the room’s noises flood back in—the loud hum of the vibrator, the sounds you hadn’t realized you were making, the now husky tone in his voice. Each sound is more vivid than before.
Eris’s voice breaks through this new sensory flood, warm and approving. “You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he murmurs, his tone a soothing balm. After being spanked, then paddled for God knows how long, between his calm, reassuring voice and the relentless vibrations against your cunt, you aren’t sure how long you’ll last.
His fingers replace the vibrator, brushing lightly against your clit. He teases your folds, just enough to drive you wild with need. You squirm against the rope, desperate for more contact, for release.
“You want more, don’t you?” Eris’s voice is low, almost a purr as he leans closer. His breath is warm against your ear. “Tell me what you need.”
He rubs slow circles against you, his fingers like fire against your skin. You try to articulate what you need, but the gag muffles your words into incoherent sounds. The frustration of being so close and unable to finish draws an exasperated groan from you, and he responds with a deep, dark chuckle. Eris’s touch withdraws entirely, leaving you in aching anticipation. The sudden absence of his touch is maddening, your body craving the completion he’s denying you. You can’t see him, but you can feel the warmth of his presence lingering near.
Minutes pass, or maybe just seconds—time has lost all meaning in this swirling haze of sensations. Without warning, you feel the sharp sting of a flogger grazing your inner thighs, just enough to remind you of his control. The flogger’s strikes alternate between gentle taps and more forceful hits, never quite enough to satisfy your growing desperation, but enough to keep you on edge. Each touch pulls you further into the comforting fog he’s woven, and your whimpers morph into sharp yelps of pain, each one more urgent than the last.
“Poor thing,” he murmurs, his voice laced with mock sympathy. “Does it hurt, baby?” His tone is tender, but there’s a sharp edge beneath it that promises much more pain.
You groan, the sound a mix of frustration and need, but Eris’s expression hardens. The flogger lands on your skin again, a sharp crack that reverberates through your body. He grips the hair at the nape of your neck tightly, yanking you closer until your breath mingles with his. You can feel the heat of him, the solid presence that’s both terrifying and intoxicating. His lips hover near your ear, his breath raising goosebumps on your skin.
“Do you have something to say?” he asks, his tone noticeably darker and more dangerous. There’s a tense, almost impatient edge to it, a sign that stepping out of line is not an option. “A complaint? Are you ungrateful for what I’m giving you?”
The flogger’s strikes become more deliberate, more vicious. Each one lands with a stinging, biting pain that blossoms across your skin, the sensations mingling with the ache of your muscles straining to hold the position he’s put you in. He’s toying with you, savoring your helplessness, the way your body trembles and arches under his control, the way your breath hitches in anticipation of each new strike.
“Who’s in charge?” he whispers in a slow, deep voice, every word dripping with malice. You try to answer, but the gag in your mouth turns your response into a pathetic, muffled sound. Your eyes squeeze shut in frustration, tears of helplessness welling up and quickly absorbed by the blindfold. You can’t form the words, can’t tell him what he wants to hear, and that only makes it worse.
He clicks his tongue, a sound of feigned disappointment, and tugs your hair again, forcing your head back. “Ah, couldn’t quite catch that,” he sneers, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.
You whimper, the sound a pitiful mix of plea and frustration, and he chuckles, a dark, cruel sound that sends a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. He’s enjoying this — enjoying how easily you bend to his will, how every strike of the flogger makes you jerk forward with a cry. He wants to see it all, the way you crumble under his touch, the way you surrender every last shred of control and hand your worries away to him.
“I control how this goes,” he growls. “You said you’d be good for me, baby. Did you lie? Do I need to stop treating you like a good girl? Because I can do that if that’s what you want.” The flogger strikes down in the middle of your back with a crack that feels like it splits you open, and you cry out, the sound desperate. Your body lurches forward, but Eris’s hand is still in your hair, holding you in place, forcing you to stay still, to take every single lash he’s giving you.
“Look at you,” he hisses, his voice dripping with condescension. “So fucking needy. You love this, don’t you? Being my little toy, something I can break however I feel like.”
The words cut deep, the filth of them sending shockwaves through you. You hate how true they feel, how much you crave the pain, the degradation he’s giving you. The flogger strikes again, harder this time, and your knees almost buckle from the force of it. But you don’t fall. He won’t let you.
“Oh, you like when I treat you like this. You like this a lot better than before, I can tell. You’re just a fucking hole, aren’t you?” he continues. “A pretty little slut who’ll do anything to please me. Do you even have any shame left, or do you need me to fuck some sense into you?” The flogger descends again, and again, each strike punctuating his filthy words. “I’m going to break you, baby. Turn you into the perfect little slut who’ll take everything I give and then beg for more. And you’ll love it, won’t you? You’ll love being nothing but my whore, thinking about nothing except wanting my cock.”
Each word, each degrading, filthy word, sinks into your mind, pushing you further into the haze of submission. The pain of the flogger, the sting of his words, they’re all you can think about. Your world narrows to just him — his voice, his hands, the way he’s tearing you apart and building you back up, molding you into what he wants, what you need.
He pauses, the flogger still resting against your skin, the rough leather a reminder of what’s coming next. He drags it slowly down your back, letting it scrape over the welts he’s already raised. The sensation is entirely new, a subtle pleasure and pain that leaves you trembling.
“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmurs, his tone a bit gentler now, but still laced with that underlying cruelty. The change gives you whiplash. “I can see it. You want to be good for me, don’t you? You want to show me just how perfect you can be.”
The flogger strikes again, and you gasp, the sound a desperate cry. But this time, he doesn’t stop. He strikes again, and again, the rhythm relentless. Each lash pulls you further from the chaos of your thoughts, dragging you into a dark, twisted place where nothing exists but him. The pain and pleasure blend together until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
“You’re going to remember this, baby,” he promises. “You’re going to remember how it feels to be mine, to be owned. And you’re going to beg me for it again, aren’t you? You’re going to come crawling back desperate for me to use you, to turn that pretty little mind off and break you all over again.”
He’s right. You can feel it, deep in your bones, in the way your body responds to him, in the way your mind clings to every word he says.
Eris’s eyes never leave your face, his gaze predatory as he watches you fall apart for him, unraveling under the weight of his dominance. You’re exactly where he wants you — lost in the moment, completely detached from anything and everything happening outside these walls. As the flogger comes down one last time, sending a final, searing wave of pain through your body, you know that this is exactly where you need to be tonight.
Finally, when you’re trembling, he lowers the flogger and returns to your clit, the light, teasing touch of his fingers reigniting the fire within you. “You feel that, baby?” he whispers, his tone teasing. “Feel how wet you are for me? You like when I hit you, don’t you?” He drags two fingers up your center, gathering your slickness on them before bringing them up to your open mouth. “How badly do you want to come?”
You nod, desperate to show him how much you need this, but he’s not finished with you yet. “Tongue out,” he purrs, his voice a low, silky command that sends a shiver through your already trembling body. Without a moment’s hesitation, you obey, sticking your tongue through the cold metal of the ring gag. A string of saliva spills out at the motion, glistening in the low light, and you hear a soft, satisfied exhale from him.
Eris drags his fingers down your tongue, cleans them off inside your mouth, pressing them against your tongue. “Can you taste how badly you want it?” His voice is a dark, teasing caress, each word wrapping around your mind, sinking deeper into that place where only his voice and touch matter.
You can’t respond, not even attempt to, but the question is rhetorical anyway. He doesn’t need an answer; he knows. He withdraws his fingers, leaving your mouth empty, yearning for more. The loss makes you whimper, as does the ache in your jaw — a pitiful sound that he savors as he continues, his tone a mix of mockery and care.
“You can taste how good I’m making you feel, how much you love it when I hurt you. You want to taste something better, baby?”
Before you can process what he means, you hear the familiar flick of a lighter, the soft his as the flame catches. Your heart thumps in anticipation. A moment later, the smell of weed fills the air, earthy and heady.
Eris takes a slow, deep drag from the joint, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before he leans in close. His lips brush against the edge of the gag as he exhales, blowing the smoke directly into your mouth. It’s so unexpected, so sudden, that you choke, your body convulsing slightly as you try to inhale and cough at the same time.
The thick, pungent smoke fills your lungs, burning them and reigniting your high. You can feel him watching you intently, relishing the way your body reacts.
“Breathe, baby,” he murmurs, his voice deceptively gentle. “I want to see how much you can take.”
Your chest heaves as you fight to draw in air through the second cloud of smoke he blows your way. He chuckles, and with an almost casual motion, he reaches up and unfastens the gag, pulling it away from your mouth. The relief is immediate, but it’s laced with the residue of his control, the taste of smoke lingering on your tongue.
“There we go,” he coos, running his thumb over your wet, trembling lips. “Such a good fucking girl, taking what I give you. But we’re not done yet, are we? No, you’re going to give me more, right?”
His thumb presses against your lower lip, parting your mouth slightly, and you instinctively suck on it, the action almost automatic. Your body responds to him without thought, driven purely by the need to please, to submit, to give him everything.
When he finally, finally begins to untie you, his hands are gentle but firm, his touch careful as he releases the ropes one by one. The sensation of freedom is almost overwhelming after being bound for so long. But before you can fully process it, his hands are on you — supporting you and guiding your arms back down slowly and carefully. He pulls the blindfold from your eyes, and you try to readjust to the lighting.
He’s taking another pull, holding the joint between his lips as he takes you in. But that isn’t what stops you in your tracks. At some point during your immobility, he’d rid himself of his shirt, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from taking him in. His hair is tied back into a bun, strands having fallen loose around his face, and his chest is covered in a glistening layer of sweat. Images of Eris spanking you, walking around you and assessing where to land the next blow, of the muscles in his arms flexing as he strikes. The hungry look in his eyes and the tightness of his jeans as he watches you writhe under his touch.
“How do you feel, baby?” he asks, his tone teasing with an undercurrent of genuine curiosity. “Did I get you there? That nice little headspace where it’s just you and me?”
His voice is soft, but there’s an edge of satisfaction in it as if he already knows the answer. “Did it help?” he continues, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Did I get you out of that busy little head of yours?”
You nod, still dazed by the intensity of the experience. You’d felt blissful before, sure, but this was entirely different. This was unadulterated endorphins and adrenaline. He grins, the expression both proud and wicked. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering sensations.
But he doesn’t stop there. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Now, let’s see how long I can keep you floating, yeah? You’re not done yet.” Eris tosses the flogger in the general direction of the shelf it goes on, and guides you with a commanding yet gentle touch to a mat on the other side of the room, placed in front of full-length mirrors. The surface underfoot is soft and inviting, and he helps you kneel in the center, the plush cushioning molding to your knees. He moves behind you, his hands brushing along your arms until they rest on your shoulders, a comforting weight as he leans in close. He hands you the joint, inviting you to take a few hits before handing it back. The smoke in your mouth, in your lungs, it only boosts the floating feeling you have from the experience of this all.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety whisper that wraps around you like a warm embrace. “So beautiful, so ready. But I need you to understand something, sweetheart.” His hands slide down your arms until they reach your wrists, guiding them up to the back of your head. “I need you to be ready to trust me completely. How far I push you now is all about helping you relax, so you can completely lose yourself.”
He pauses, letting his words sink in, his breath warm against your ear. “This isn’t about making things difficult, not for either of us. It’s about you letting me guide you through this. I want you to be my good girl, to follow my lead and take everything I give you.”
His hands rest on your shoulders again, squeezing you lightly. “You’re going to do everything I ask, aren’t you? You’ll be obedient, you’ll let me push you, because you know I’m going to take care of you, don’t you?” His voice is soothing, like honey, and you can’t help but melt into it. “You’re going to give me all of you, every last bit, and in return, I’ll give you everything you need. Remember how you begged for this last time we were together? I want you to be that good girl for me again.”
As his words echo in your mind, you recall the last time you were with him, at Ianthe’s party. The memory is all too vivid — your desperate need, your willingness to surrender completely. You had been so open, so eager, voicing all your desires and pleas. The way you had let go of all inhibitions, the intensity of your submission, and the way your words had spilled out in a fervent, almost frenzied confession. The memory is as intoxicating now as it was then, all things considered.
His words are a gentle invitation, luring you in with a calm confidence that makes it impossible to say anything but yes. You feel hesitant as you consider the depth of your commitment. The tension in your chest tightens for a moment, but then you nod slowly, your voice soft. “Yes,” you murmur, the word barely a whisper but laden with an unspoken promise to embrace whatever he asks of you.
Eris’s fingers brush lightly over your hands, guiding you to interlace your fingers. He steps back to observe you, his eyes raking over your form, taking in every detail. The floor beneath you is hard, unforgiving, but his presence—his authority—keeps you grounded. The anticipation builds as he circles you slowly, like a predator assessing his prey.
“Knees wider," he orders, his voice still soft but with a firm undertone that brooks no disobedience. You adjust, spreading them further apart, feeling the strain as your muscles stretch. You watch him through the mirror, watch how he gives a satisfied smirk as you obey. You finally see how blissed out you look. A dewy sheen of sweat covers your body, your chest rises and falls deliciously with each breath, and your skin is red where you remember him flogging you. You couldn’t imagine what your ass and thighs looked like; red as fire, you imagined, if the lingering, stinging pain was anything to go by.
“Arch your back for me.” His hand is at the small of your back, applying gentle pressure until you curve just the way he wants. The uncomfortable position has you on edge, completely exposed, and yet there’s a strange comfort in the way he controls you, in how thoroughly he’s taking over your body and mind.
Eris takes his time, relishing the sight. “Look at you, already so perfect for me,” he purrs, his hand trailing down your spine in a slow caress that sends shivers through you. “You’re going to stay just like this, sweet girl, you hear me?”
You nod as he runs a hand over your head in a soft caress, trails that hand down your spine. Then, without warning, his touch sharpens—a sudden, firm grip on your hips, followed by the sting of his hand against your ass. The first slap is light, almost playful, but it quickly escalates. The next one lands harder, and he pauses to run his hand over the reddened skin, soothing it briefly before delivering another, even harder.
"Does it hurt, baby?" he teases, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Or does it just make you want more?" He doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, he continues, alternating between sharp spanks and gentle caresses, pushing you to embrace the pain, to find pleasure in the way he’s handling you.
"You’re so good for me," he continues, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "Taking everything I give you. I bet you love it, don’t you? The way I’m making you feel?" He chuckles a bit at your lack of response. “You can speak now, sweetheart, I took the gag off for a reason.”
You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath. “Hurts…” you manage to whimper, your muscles shaking. “Hurts really good. I want more.” He spanks you again. Hard.
“Is that how good girls get what they want?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed and you recover from the sting of pain.
“No, I’m sorry,” you rush out, wincing from the pain of the spank, the soreness in your legs and arms. It’s too much. “Please, will you give me more?”
He takes one last, long drag from the joint, finishing it off and throwing the roach towards a bin. He drags his fingers down your back again, only to grip your hips and pull you further back, adjusting your position until you’re even more exposed, your knees straining to hold you up. The discomfort is intense, but the way he’s pushing you has you on the brink of something deeper, something more primal.
Finally, he moves in front of you, his eyes dark with intent. He cups your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. "If you want more you’ll have to work for it, baby.” You nod eagerly and he smiles endearingly. “You’re going to show me just how badly you want me," he says, his voice a mix of tender command and raw desire. "And you’re going to do it the way I like."
He steps closer, guiding your face until your lips hover just in front of the zipper of his jeans. "Open that mouth wide for me," he coaxes, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before pressing it down. "That’s it. Nice and wide."
You obey without hesitation, the need to please him overwhelming everything else. He pulls you into him, his hand resting over your interlaced ones, rubbing your face and mouth into the denim. You feel pride at the way his cock grows stiffer without having taken him into your mouth. You can only imagine how good it must feel to get fucked by that cock, to have it slam into you from below when you ride him, to take it so deep down your throat you can’t even taste his release. A low ‘Now, look at that’ pulls you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see his arms crossed over his chest.
“I don’t even have to ask you to keep going,” he says, his voice laced with arrogance. Your ears turn red with embarrassment when you realize you’ve been practically nuzzling your face against his cock, but oddly, there’s a twisted sense of contentment mingled with it.
He takes his time undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, mere centimeters from your still-open mouth. No one can make taking jeans off hot. No one except Eris, apparently. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, but not too much—just enough to remind you who’s in charge.
Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him. His cock is hard and throbbing, a rich, warm shade of pink with a slight flush at the tip. The girth is impressive, making your mouth water with anticipation. It stands proudly, the pre-cum at the tip glistening slightly under the dim light. You lean in, ready to take him into your mouth. The heat and tension in the air are palpable, and you’re just about to close your lips around him when he gently but firmly grips your hair.
"Not yet,” he murmurs, a playful edge in his voice. “You’re in a hurry, aren’t you? I haven’t given you permission yet.”
You pause, your lips hovering inches away from him. Your eyes flick up to meet his, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in your gaze. “You’re cruel, you know that?” You drop your arms, the strain of holding them there finally too much. He notices the shift, but to your relief, he doesn’t say anything, letting it slide.
Eris smirks. “Cruel? I prefer to think of it as… thorough. You wouldn’t want me to rush, would you? A little patience never hurt anyone.”
Your eyes narrow playfully. “Patience, huh? I expect a good reward afterward.”
He raises an eyebrow, his grip on your hair loosening slightly. “Is that so? And what kind of reward are you hoping for, baby?”
“Something a little more satisfying than just this,” you say with a teasing smirk, your wit finally returning after being silenced for so long. “I’m thinking you could make all this worth my while.”
Eris chuckles softly, looking down and relishing the view of his cock hovering over your face. “I will, without a doubt. But you need to be patient,” he repeats. His eyes linger on you as he shifts, rubbing his cock slowly against your cheeks and lips. The touch of his skin is warm and firm, and each movement is calculated, gliding with a teasing pressure. The pre-cum at the tip leaves a subtle, slick trail that only adds to your arousal.
You feel the ridges and veins of his cock brushing against your skin. His touch is firm but purposeful, making sure you feel every bit of his arousal. He takes pleasure in the way your lips part involuntarily, the way your breath hitches with each stroke. Eris’s breathing grows a bit heavier, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions, savoring the build-up and the control he exerts.
As he continues, he lightly traces his cock along your jawline and over your closed eyelids, creating a delicious blend of sensations. The warmth of him mingles with the coolness of the room, heightening the contrast between the two. He pauses occasionally, teasingly pressing his cock against your lips or rubbing it against your forehead, only to shift and start again.
Your need intensifies with each passing moment, the teasing just shy of maddening. You try to keep your composure, but the craving to have him in your mouth is overwhelming. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you whisper, “Please… let me.”
Eris’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with your plea. “Now that’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs, his grip tightening slightly in your hair as he guides you closer. “Go on, baby.”
With a soft breath, you lean in, finally closing the small distance between you and him. The moment your lips wrap around the head of his cock, a soft groan escapes him, and it sends a thrill through your body.
Slowly, you take him deeper, your tongue gliding along his length, savoring the warmth and the weight of him. The slickness of his pre-cum makes it easier to slide him into your mouth, and you hollow your cheeks as you move. His fingers thread through your hair, guiding your rhythm, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely contained control he holds over himself.
You focus on the sounds he makes—the low, husky breaths, the occasional hitch in his voice when you find a particularly sensitive spot. Each reaction spurs you on, encouraging you to take him deeper, to push the limits of your own control. Eris’s voice, rougher now with desire, breaks through the haze of your focus. “That’s it, just like that,” he praises, his grip on your hair loosening slightly to let you set the pace.
His hips start to move in time with your motions, a slow, steady thrust that matches the rhythm you’ve established. You relax your throat, taking him in further, feeling the head of his cock brush against the back of your throat. The sensation is overwhelming, yet you revel in it, the sheer intimacy of this act, the way you’re entirely at his mercy, yet completely in control of the pleasure you’re giving him.
Eris’s breathing grows more ragged, the tension coiling tighter within him. He watches you, his gaze heavy-lidded with lust, his usual composure slipping just enough for you to see how much he’s holding back. The knowledge that you’re the one drawing out these reactions from him makes you bolder, urging you to take him deeper, to drive him closer to the edge.
But just as you think he’s about to let go, he pulls back slightly, halting your movements. “Not yet,” he breathes, voice strained but firm. “I’m not done with you.” His words are a promise, and though you’re aching to continue, you obey, releasing him with a mix of anticipation and frustration.
Eris's hand slides from your hair to your cheek, his touch gentle now. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a brief, almost tender kiss before he straightens up. Without a word, he helps you to your feet, his hands steady and reassuring as they guide you toward the bed.
He lowers you onto the soft sheets with care. The roughness from before has melted away, replaced by something softer, almost reverent. As you settle onto the bed, Eris kneels at the edge, his hands gliding over your thighs, spreading them slowly.
He looks up at you, and there’s a tenderness in his eyes that makes your heart stutter. But just as quickly as it appeared, it fades away. He’s silent as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering there for a moment before he continues, trailing soft, slow kisses up your leg. Each touch is feather light, as if he’s savoring every inch of you.
When he reaches your core, he pauses, his warm breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, and you feel a shiver of desire run through you. But instead of diving in, Eris takes his time, pressing a soft kiss just above your clit, then another, slightly lower. His lips are gentle, tender.
Finally, his mouth closes around you, and he begins to work with a slow, deliberate pace, his tongue moving in languid strokes that send waves of pleasure through you. There’s no rush, no urgency—just a steady, sweet rhythm that makes you feel cherished in a way that takes your breath away.
His hands slide under your thighs, lifting them slightly as he brings you closer to his mouth, his tongue swirling in a way that’s both gentle and utterly consuming. Each movement is tender, every touch filled with a quiet, unspoken affection. He takes his time, coaxing soft moans from your lips with each delicate flick of his tongue, each gentle suckle.
The pleasure builds slowly, like a tide rising within you, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge, not from overwhelming intensity, but from the sheer tenderness of it all. Eris’s name escapes your lips in a soft, breathy moan, and he hums in response, the vibrations sending a fresh wave of sensation coursing through you.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t rush you to the peak, but lets you linger in the sweet, tender pleasure for as long as possible. It’s only when your body begins to tremble, when you’re right on the brink, that he finally picks up the pace, his tongue moving with a little more pressure, a little more focus, guiding you gently toward the release you’ve been craving.
And when you do fall, it’s into the softest, most blissful release, the kind that leaves you feeling weightless and utterly at peace. Eris stays with you through it all, his mouth never leaving you until the last tremor of pleasure has faded, and then he pulls back, pressing one final, lingering kiss to your trembling thigh. When he does pull away, it’s with a soft, almost reluctant sigh. He moves up your body with the same tender care, his hands trailing lightly over your skin, leaving a path of warmth in their wake. When his eyes meet yours, there’s a softness there.
Eris doesn’t rush. He leans down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a way that’s more about comfort than urgency, more about reassurance than demand. His mouth moves slowly, languidly, tasting you as if he has all the time in the world.
Your hands find their way to his back, sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as your body arches instinctively toward his. There’s a quiet, almost reverent intensity in the way he touches you, his hands moving to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours.
He shifts slightly, his hand sliding down to grip your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist as he settles between your thighs. You can feel the hard, insistent press of him against you, the heat of his skin melding with yours, and it sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.
“Are you ready?” he murmurs against your lips, his voice soft.
You nod, breathless, your eyes meeting his with a trust that’s unspoken but absolute.
Eris presses a soft kiss to your forehead before lining himself up with your entrance, and with one slow, deliberate thrust, he fills you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and comfort, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as he begins to move.
He sets a gentle pace, his hips rolling in slow, deep strokes that leave you gasping. There’s no rush, no frantic rhythm — just a steady, measured movement that builds a different kind of tension. Eris’s hands cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he watches you, his gaze never leaving yours. Each thrust is accompanied by a whispered word of encouragement, a soft murmur of praise that only heightens the intimacy between you.
Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, each roll of his hips sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The world narrows down to just the two of you, the softness of the sheets beneath you, the warmth of his body above you, and the gentle rhythm of your bodies coming together.
Eris leans down, his forehead pressing gently against yours, his breath warm and ragged as he moves inside you. “You feel so good,” he whispers, his voice husky, laced with a deep sense of awe. “So perfect.” His words send a shiver down your spine, the intensity of the moment wrapping around you both.
He shifts his angle slightly, his hips pressing deeper, and you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The new angle has him hitting just the right spot, each thrust making your toes curl with pleasure. “Eris…” you moan, the sound of his name on your lips seeming to spur him on.
“Right there?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear as his hand trails down to grip your hip, holding you in place as he drives into you with slow, deliberate thrusts. “I want to hear you, baby. Tell me how it feels.”
“It’s so good,” you gasp, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “You’re perfect, Eris, just like that.”
His pace increases slightly, still measured but with a growing urgency that matches the heat building between you. Each thrust is powerful, and precise, and sends waves of pleasure rippling through your entire body. You can feel the sweat starting to slick your skin, your breaths coming out in short, desperate gasps as he brings you closer to the edge with every movement.
“Look at me,” he commands softly, his voice gentle yet firm, and when you do, you find his gaze locked on yours, his amber eyes dark with lust and something deeper, something that makes your heart stutter. “I want to see you when you come,” he adds, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, his thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek as his other hand slides between your bodies to find your clit.
The moment his fingers touch you, you’re lost. He circles your clit with slow, deliberate strokes that match the rhythm of his thrusts, his gaze never leaving yours, his lips curling into a knowing smile as he watches your reaction.
“Please…” The word slips from your lips before you can stop it, desperate for more, for everything he’s willing to give. Your hips lift to meet his thrusts, your body arching into his touch as the pressure builds inside you, coiling tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap.
“Please, what?” Eris’s voice is teasing, but there’s an edge of intensity there, a deep desire to hear you say it, to have you begging for him. “Tell me what you want, baby. I’ll give you anything.”
“Please, I want to come,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. “I need it, Eris, please.”
His eyes darken with satisfaction, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss as he picks up the pace, his fingers moving faster against your clit. “Then come for me,” he whispers against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”
That’s all it takes. The combination of his words, his touch, and the deep, steady thrusts of his cock send you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body clenches around him, your back arching off the bed as you cry out his name, the pleasure so intense it’s almost too much to bear.
Eris doesn’t let up, driving you through the waves of your orgasm with steady, unrelenting thrusts, his fingers never leaving your clit until you’re trembling beneath him, completely spent. He watches you the entire time, his gaze heated and possessive, a soft groan escaping his lips as he feels you come undone around him.
As your orgasm begins to subside, he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his hips still moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and breathless. “So fucking perfect.”
You’re barely able to respond, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you manage to whisper his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as he continues to move inside you, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more urgent.
Eris doesn’t hesitate, sensing the way your body melts beneath him, still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. With a smooth, practiced motion, he flips the two of you over, his hands guiding you to straddle his waist. Your limbs feel like jelly, weak and trembling, but he shushes you softly, his hands firm on your hips.
“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm as he brushes your hair away from your face. “Just lay on me. I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”
He pulls you down gently, your chest pressed against his as your head rests on his shoulder. His hands slide up and down your back, grounding you, before they settle on your hips again, holding you steady. You barely have time to catch your breath before he starts moving, his hips thrusting upward with powerful, controlled strokes.
The sensation is overwhelming as he fills you completely, the force of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You can feel every inch of him, the heat of his skin against yours, the strength of his body beneath you, and the way his cock drives up into you with unrelenting intensity.
“Eris…” you moan, your voice muffled against his neck as your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he takes control.
“Shh, just feel me,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, guiding your movements as he continues to thrust up into you, each stroke hitting deeper, harder. “Let me make you feel good.”
Your body responds instinctively, your hips moving in time with his as he drives into you over and over again. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your gasps and his low groans, the intensity of it all threatening to unravel you once again.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his pace relentless as he chases your pleasure. His hands roam your body, one sliding up to cradle the back of your head, pressing your face against his neck, while the other grips your waist, pulling you down onto him with every thrust.
“God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice rough with need. “So tight, so perfect. You’re gonna make me come, baby. Just like that.”
The words send a fresh wave of heat through you, your body clenching around him as you feel yourself spiraling toward another climax. The intensity of his thrusts, the way he holds you so close, the deep, reverent way he whispers your name — it’s all too much.
“Eris, I’m…” you start, but the words dissolve into a moan as he slams up into you with a particularly hard thrust, your vision going white as another orgasm crashes over you, more intense than the last.
“Oh, you giving me another one, sweetheart?” he growls as he feels you tighten around him. “Let me feel you.”
Your body convulses in his arms as you shatter, the pleasure ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Eris’s grip on you tightens, his own release just seconds behind yours as he thrusts up into you one last time, pulling out as he comes with a low, guttural groan, his cum spilling over your ass in hot, erratic bursts.
He holds you there, both of you trembling, your bodies entwined as you come down from the high together. His hands are gentle now, soothing as they trace patterns on your skin, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.
After the intensity of your release subsides, Eris’s touch becomes gentle and soothing. He cradles you in his arms, his fingers brushing tenderly over your back and sides as he presses soft kisses to your forehead.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern. “You did so well, you know that?”
You nod, your body still shivering slightly from the aftershocks, but a soft smile plays on your lips. “I’m okay,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath.
Eris gives you a reassuring smile, his hands moving soothingly up and down your back. “Good,” he murmurs, his tone tender. “I’m here. Just relax, let me take care of you.”
He carefully disentangles himself from you, his movements slow to avoid startling you. As he rises from the bed, he gently helps you shift so that you’re on your stomach, your hips slightly elevated. “Just a second,” he says softly.
Eris heads to a nearby cupboard, opening it to reveal a small, built-in towel warmer. He retrieves a warm, damp towel from inside, the comforting heat emanating from it as he brings it back to you.
He returns to the bed and carefully unfolds the towel, its warmth a welcome sensation. “I’m going to clean you up now, okay?” he asks gently but doesn’t wait for an answer as he begins to dab at your skin. The warmth of the towel is soothing, easing any lingering tension.
His hands are gentle as he tends to you. “You’re doing great,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “Just wanted to make sure you’re all clean and comfortable.”
Once he’s finished, he places the damp towel aside and returns to your side, pulling the comforter over you both. He settles next to you, pulling you close and pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. You snuggle into his embrace, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence. His arms are steady and reassuring around you, and his murmurs of affection make you feel cherished and adored.
You finally find your voice, looking up at him with a tired but content smile. “That was incredible. I didn’t expect to feel so…” So good? So much? So intimate?
Eris grins, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
You snuggle closer, your head resting against his chest. “I feel like I’m floating. In a good way.” You mentally kick yourself — of course, it was in a good way. Who says floating in a bad way?
Eris wraps his arms around you a little tighter. “You deserve to feel this good. Just know I’m always here for you, not just for things like this, for whatever. Whatever you need, (y/n).”
You sink deeper into Eris’s embrace, the warmth of his body seeping into your own. The comforting weight of his arms and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lull you into a state of serene contentment. The intensity of the earlier moments fades into a gentle afterglow.
As you relax, your thoughts begin to wander, drifting back to the complexities of your life outside this moment. Cassian's name surfaces in your mind, but it's quickly followed by the image of him with Elain. The idea of them together interrupts your peace. It should sting, but somehow, it doesn’t.
Instead, the memory of Cassian and Elain feels distant, almost abstract, overshadowed. You'll deal with it another time.
You shift slightly, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. The world outside, with its complications and unresolved emotions, feels like it’s receding. In this moment, the only thing that matters is the warmth between you, the sense of being cared for, and the gentle hum of satisfaction that lingers from your shared intimacy.
Eris’s soft breathing and the comforting pressure of his touch anchor you, and you let yourself drift in the quiet aftermath, content that you’ve found a moment of peace and connection that you can hold onto.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
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Seeing people saying that Satoru doesn't actually care about Suguru and that the only reason Kenjaku caught him was bc he was surprised to see a person he killed alive is fucking wild, man
Like. Gojo's entire life revolves around Geto. The entire series happens because he loved Suguru too much to kill him, even though he knew he would have to do it eventually. The world literally went to shit because he wasn't over him
Geto Suguru's life would be completely unimportant to the story without Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru's would be completely unimportant without Geto Suguru. They complement each other. They need each other
Two male betta fishes can't coexist. They will fight and one will die. They can't see each other — even if they're in different tanks, they won't be able to live. They'd eventually tire each other out, resulting in death. The only way for Satoru and Suguru's lives to be able to continue without the other would've been for them to never have met at all. And they can't be together. Not now, not ever again. Not while they're still alive. Not after everything that's happened
The entire story revolves around their relationship. Yuuji is a boy who ate a curse('s finger[s]), and Megumi is the prodigy who befriends him. Satoru is a prodigy, the strongest, and Suguru, the boy whose technique is eating curses, befriends him. The Jujutsu Kaisen story is all about parallels and they all connect to fucking Satosugu. It's all about them
The only reason Kenjaku's plan worked is because the body he used didn't belong to some random person Gojo killed, it worked because the body he used was Geto Suguru's, Gojo's one and only, his best friend. He must be thinking “Thank god they're gay” right now lmao
Gojo fucking hesitated. He hesitated multiple times when it came to Geto. He was supposed to kill him, yet he let him go. He has the Six Eyes, he could've easily tracked him down. He probably could tell if he was nearby (he can recognize Suguru from his scent) and just didn't go looking for him. And he could've so very easily escaped the trap that was set up for him, he was going to run away from it because we see him about to take that step but then Suguru's body shows up and says “Yo, Satoru!” with Suguru's voice and Satoru freezes and hesitates
They weren't able to let go of each other even after years of being separated (like a decade). When they meet, Suguru still greets Satoru warmly
Suguru is pretty much Satoru's moral code. He was the only person Satoru took at least mildly seriously pre-Toji (and we know Satoru just didn't do serious back then). He actually took his words to heart. He was kind, of course (especially from Suguru's PoV, since he's the person that knows him most), and not a bad person, but he wasn't nice. Suguru was always the ‘nice(r) one’, the one who actually had a moral code, while Satoru was more of an asshole to literally everyone and everything (some more, some less), thinking he and Suguru were above everyone else
When Suguru finally snaps (which, honestly. Fair) and goes genocidal (not so fair), Satoru slowly starts to be somewhat nicer and starts applying Suguru's old moral code to his own being — their roles weren't exactly reversed, but now they're not together anymore, so they might as well be. And Suguru was shown for having faith in the school and its system while it was Satoru the one who absolutely abhorred the higher-ups and all kinds of authority, but then it ended up with Suguru being the one to leave and become a cult leader with the blood of hundreds on his hands while Satoru was the one that stayed behind in the same place of the people he despises so much
(Imagine someone saying something like “Sometimes I doubt you even have a moral code” and Gojo answers with “Oh, my best friend my one and only is pretty much my moral code. He went homicidal a while back but it's okay haha” “...Actually, that explains a few things”)
Gojo doesn't have a god complex, but I wouldn't blame him if he did. I mean, he might as well be the closest thing to god human beings have ever seen. He used to put himself above everyone else, when he was a teenager. He thought that, the higher he was, the more he could do. And no one was better than him. But not Suguru. Back then, it wasn't “I'm the strongest” it was “We're the strongest and “We're the best” and “We're the ones that will beat you” and “We're the duo” and it was all about “us, us, us, us, us” instead of “me, me, me, me” like people thought it was — they were a pair. They still are
We know people thought and still think of Gojo as a weapon. As something that must be controlled, because on the moment he decides he doesn't want to be around them anymore, he could just straight up kill then without any effort (but getting rid of people in positions of power only gets other people in positions of power and it'll be a neverending story, and Gojo knows this so he's trying to do his best to fix it all through the younger generation, by letting them live). And we also know that Suguru is one of the very few people who did not believe that at all
Like their personalities and characters and stories and literally everything, their names complement each other. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru are such similar names, I get them mixed up all the time (the amount of times I've called them “Gojo Suguru” and “Geto Satoru” is embarassing. Also, “Saturu”. “Goto”. “Gejo”. Ugh). Both of their last names start with a G, end with an O and have 4 letters. Both of their given names start with an S, end with an U and have 6 letters. They complement each other. They need each other
The only times we've seen Gojo with an expression of actual pure, raw emotion is when it's about Geto. When he finds out about what Geto did, when he realizes how thin and wrong Geto looks, when he sees him again for what we assume to be the first time in years, when he dies, when a thing wearing his corpse and using his voice greets him (“Yo, Satoru!” oh my god)
Suguru was able to fight back when in Kenjaku's control after Satoru said his name. Kenjaku himself says that had never happened before
And you don't even have to see them as romantic. You don't have to ship them if you don't want to. But you can't deny that they care about each other more than they will ever care about anyone else
#hey is it whose or who's#how do those words work???? english is so confusing sometimes smh#jujutsu kaisen#satosugu#they love each other your honor#jjk#jjk manga spoilers#kenjaku#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#geto suguru#suguru geto#gay#this is kinda long haha#but they deserve the longest of paragraphs#edit: i changed this a little bc my dumbass self said gojo had a god complex#i didn't actually know what a god complex is. mb#edit: i'm proud to say this is pretty much my best post
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We've had recent disappointments with the endings to series. For me, Last Twilight, Only Friends, and 23.5 stand out. While I loved the Sign to the end, there was that unexplained Tharn getting his freedom from Chalothorn, which made the very ending not quite perfect. And while I loved Century of Love all the way through, I know some folks were disappointed at the ending.
What are some QLs that you consider to have really strong endings?
OOOO what a great question!
10 BLs With the Strongest Endings
Some BLs had better endings than the rest of the show deserved, and some were saved by the ending, while still others built up to a good ending throughout. So I suspect it kinda depends on ones definition of strong. But here are mine (you'll never guess what's at the top? but...) it's in no particular order
Seven Days - no but ACTUALLY think about it. That ending is truly phenomenal. It ties everything together, gives hope for their relationship without being cheesy AND is crazy romantic, plus it brings the narrative full circle. That ending shot, the direction, the plot, the characters, and the story ALL tied in a neat little bow. It ends by indicating that something is starting for them, something familiar it's just now they are together. Fabulous.
Light On Me - on the beach, the whole friendship group, the kiss that mirrors their couple habit of cheek squiging? Peak YA BL. It reminded me of Make it Right, and that's no bad thing... for me.
Our Dating Sim - domestic boyfriends and then the pan over to all their couple photos. So exactly them.
To My Star - yeah, the sex scene, but remember this was when we finally realized that JiWoo not only liked him all along but actually desired him all along. The tsundere character breaking open for us to see the soft underbelly. Suddenly, all of his behavior made sense in retrospect. They used the final ultra romantic sex scene as a CHARACTER REVEAL. Fucking genius.
Semantic Error - the BOYFRIENDS of it all, the harken back to both the anime and the manga (with that spank bank file), the teasing and then the breaking of the forth wall. It was multiple cheeky punches out to the audience in a tiny stinger of a scene. Not to mention it had a kind of BL "ending fairy" thing that connected to them both being idols. Perfectly executed.
Love For Love's Sake - back in beach territory but wow. I mean this show starts with an ending. And it takes a lot for me to believe in the happiness of a parable about death and self worth. They managed it with this show. But that ending was killer.
My Beautiful Man - the ending made me reassess everything about the show, the story, and the characters. The ending made me love the show. It changed my mind. It BLEW my mind. I might have kinda lost my mind. In real time.
Unknown - there were struggles with this show and not everyone enjoyed the ending but I totally flipping loved it. FINALLY. You can't tell me that "you don't even know what I dream of" line doens't live in your head rent free.
Unintentional Love Story - not the ending scene so much as the whole final episode, it's so good. It brings the story together, we get multiple big realizations, sad baby, learning that baby was abused too, defending baby, baby defending himself. RINGS!
The Eighth Sense - so much peak boyfriend after so much angst. The casual language play and teasing, the stealing of the drink, just everything, and also how very very college it all is.
10 Others I just LOVE
Be Loved In House: I Do - ultra pasteurized cheese fest
Laws of Attraction - THE CAPED WEDDING OUTFITS
About Youth - rainbow kiss cheese fest
Long Time No See - BLOOD COVERED KISSES
Restart After Come Back Home - the pan around lens flare kiss and everything it MEANS
Bad Buddy - It was so CLEVER
DNA Says Love You - the claiming and then the tussle at the cafe? Gorgeous. Adorable. No notes.
Oh! Boarding House - a family gathering while the dads are holding hands behind the couch, adorable
Where Your Eyes Linger - that damn glow up
Tinted With You - perhaps... poly?
Wow... so few Thai BL. I guess this is Korea's strength in the BL sphere? Also more Japan than I expected and outsized rep for Taiwan. (I actually could have stuck a few more from Taiwan on here but they just get SO CHEESY.)
(source)
dated mid August 2024, not responsible for great endings after that date
#asked and answered#favorite strong endings in bl#bl with the best endings#how to stick the landing in BL#seven days#japanese bl#light on me#korean bl#our dating sim#to my star#semantic error#love of loves sake#my beautiful man#unknown#taiwanese bl#unintentional love story#the eighth sense
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Fairly Odd Parents; A New Wish finale spoilers!!
Okay so am I the only one who didn’t like the fact that Hazel’s friends now know about the fairies?
Because like, how do you go on from that? Maybe it’s because I never really got attached to her friends the same way I did with Dev, but it’s just racking my mind over how the episodes in season two will go.
It kind of feels like them knowing about the fairies will only cause troublesome situations like “oh it’s fine! Hazel can just wish us out of this mess” or “Hazel can you wish this for us please?” Which will probably cause a lot of problems, and there’s no going back from that.
It could be because on every site I watched FOPANW for free, it’s missing “The Wellsington Hotellsington” episode which I’m pretty sure is the episode where Winn gets formally introduced, and the trio’s friendship cements. I’ll probably have to buy that episode since websites don’t want to add it for some reason…
But now Season 2 most likely will be focused more on the trio and their shenanigans, so I don’t knowww… I’m really biased though, I love Dev as a character and I love his and Hazel’s dynamic (before the whole taking over fairy world thing)☹️
I like Jasmine and Winn but I just don’t care for them, you know?
And onto Hazel’s brother Antony, he’s cool and all but why does he need to know about the fairies?
Like I know this makes it SO much easier for Hazel, and it’s basically a huge weight lifted off of her, but story wise?? Eughhh I don’t know😖
I mean, if they explore his and Deja’s relationshipppp hmmm okayyyy😋😋 But I just know how they’d segue way into that, and thinking about it makes me uncomfortableeee!!
Basically what I’m saying is, I CAN’T WAIT FOR SEASON TWO AND I HOPE THERE IS MORE DEV CONTENT!!!
PLEASEE don’t have Dev just be a one off antagonist☹️☹️
The theory that Dev keeps his memories because of his shades (and also his similarities to some other rich kid that was in the original series of whom I forgot his name) is cool, but also awkwarddd— because what does he do with that information?? Like okay buddy, you remember. Now what? He never had the best relationship with Peri in the first place!! I’d prefer if maybe season one went on WITHOUT Irep interfering or at least appearing but not appearing again until the next season, because THEN Dev and Peri could’ve connected at least a little, and Dev could have more realizations about “maybe I don’t need my father’s approval” or something— then in season two when Dev goes on a spiral or something, let’s say his dad ticks him off;
Dev tries to have a heart to heart with his dad after Hazel and Peri push him to,
“I feel like you don’t care about me, and all I want is for you to be proud of me—“
And his dad is like,
“Come back to me when you do something I can be proud of.”
SO THEN he becomes bitter at Hazel and Peri for “making” him go do that, and turns to Irep to take over Fairy World.
Eughhhh but this is a kid’s show after all, and they want to cater to their attention spans so a show that takes a while to fully flesh out their characters would probably go right over some kid’s heads (or not, they could probably become smarter.)
I still love the show, and fanfiction exists for this exact reason—
I guess that’s enough of my Ramb-Lee’s for now, if anyone wants to talk about FOPANW, I’m here😝.
(Dev looks so CUTE in this scene🥺)
Peace!!
-🤍
#fairly odd parents a new wish#fopanw#dev dimmadome#winn#jasmine#jasmine fop#winn fop#antony fop#dale dimmadome#peri fop#periwinkle cosma#poof fairywinkle cosma#silly#ramblees#rambles#rewrite#season finale#fop a new wish#fairly odd parents season finale#dev x hazel#hazel x dev#dazel#platonic#one sided#puppylove#timmy turner is literally that janitor/actor guy.#fop irep#fairly oddparents foop#fanfic#fop fanfic
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it just won't be the same.
"you were a wonderful experience." "you were... everything."
ft— various genshin male x gn! reader
warning — angst with no comfort,breakup!! intended lowercase, not proofread.
a/n— just putting this out before chapter six of my series, we love that. anywho i have another lil thing on the way as well ^^
wordcount. 1.0k
truth be told, he missed you. he missed you a lot.
as the days stretched into weeks and the weeks into months, he found himself grappling with the lingering ache of heartbreak that seemed to deepen with every passing moment.
he reminisces about his connection with you, a connection which no longer existed. the apartment they once called "home" echoed with the haunting silence of memories.
he... remembers how he had grown accustomed to waking up alone. for years, the empty space beside him seemed to mirror the loneliness that lingered in his heart. but when a serendipitous twist of fate introduced him to you, he found himself waking up in bed alongside his lover who admiringly gazes at him.
for once he felt happiness, he would've never imagined himself to finally find the one, that he would always be alone—and yet here you were. ready to embrace and welcome him in your loving arms.
but of course, not everything lasted forever. and that's what hurt the most. he thought that you would be the very one to be by his side forever until you both grow old. he had faith, he trusted himself and his intuition.
oh how he was he was wrong.
he faced the harsh reality of an ending that he never saw coming. The pain, raw and unfiltered, painted his world in shades of heartache. he found himself grappling with the harsh truth that not all love stories are meant to endure.
and once again, he found himself waking up to the haunting vacancy of an empty bed. he grappled with the familiar ache of waking up alone, haunted by the fleeting happiness that had slipped through his grasp.
he wondered how something that felt so right could end so painfully wrong.
he remembered the day you sent him that very text, the very text that would have ever-lasting effects on him. the very text he dreaded since the beginning of your relationship.
he remembered how he felt when he first got a look at your message. "we should talk." oh. that sentence.
he remembered meeting up with you on a rainy day (coincidental huh?) at 2 AM, surprisingly you didn't bring an umbrella which you usually did, luckily for him he brought one for you both to share.
"there's no need, i'll make this quick."
quick? what did you mean? he was unsure of what you had meant, oh if he could only go back and try to persuade you so much more.
the rain poured from the sky in a relentless downpour, as if the very sky had opened up to release its pent-up emotions. it just had to be raining.
both your hairs were soaking wet, rain dribbling down from your head to your face, he had the urge to wipe your face dry and hold an umbrella over you but, he knew better.
he remembers feeling an undescribable gut-wrenching feeling, one he had never felt before.
he remembered how dry his throat felt, had it always been that dry?
he remembered how he seemed to have stopped breathing, his breath short and rigged.
"lets break up, i.. i just don't think this will work. you're too busy and i don't feel loved at all, you really hurt me. i'm sorry but i think this is for the best."
"break up?" his voice was barely above a whisper as his words slipped from his mouth, he inched closer to you, hand reaching out to you before he stopped himself.
he remembered seeing you crying, or maybe it was just the rain. he couldn't see properly anyway, tears were brimming his eyes.
it just couldn't be. his eyes remained focused on you, he studied your face. was this a prank? no, your face.. it was mingled with many emotions, anger? disappointment? he was unsure. brows furrowed as you stared at him, not uttering a single word.
"n—no wait, please, explain yourself. i— if i did something wrong please tell me what i did i'll fix it! what do you mean you don't feel loved? i'll give you everything you need please don't—"
it was no use. his words left no impression on you, he stumbled over his words as he continued to pour out his heart, thinking about everything he must've done to upset you.
"please, don't make this anymore complicated than it already is, you know what you did. i only wish you the best,"
he remembered you letting out a sigh before speaking again. "... you were a wonderful experience."
a wonderful experience?
he remembered everything so vividly as if it happened yesterday. he remembered standing out in the rain in the dead of night, you were long gone, leaving him in the pouring rain, the soft glowing amber streetlights illuminating the wet concrete ground
"you were... everything." he whispered, the weight of those words hanging in the air. his voice was shaky and barely audible as he let out quiet, pained choked sobs, letting his tears run freely down his cheeks.
the pain was unbearable.
the days, weeks, months and years after was like no other. he felt incomplete, he couldn't quite accept the fact that you two were over, gone, all the things you did together were gone. nothing but bittersweet memories.
he despised the gods for being so cruel, everywhere he went was just another blunt reminder of you. the cafes, the parks, museums, galleries, everything.
even the cats you both used to feed every weekend, everything reminded him of you. it was like a curse, clinging and gnawing on his heart.
regret loomed over him like a shadow as he found himself grappling with the haunting question of what could have been done differently. he traced his fingers over old photographs, the smiles frozen in time.
his fingers would linger there on your face a little bit longer unknowingly.
the truth remained: the love that had once been the foundation of their shared world had crumbled, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had let something precious slip through his fingers.
but, if there was a chance, he would go back in time and change everything he ever did to upset you. he yearned for a time machine to undo the missteps and restore the life they had built together. please, take him back.
— (all male genshin characters)
note: erm i just wanted to yeah i wrote this in an hour so if it is rushed NO IT IS NOT (yes it is)
taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..
liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!
another note: NOW A (slight) ANGST WITH COMFORT FIC NEXT YAY
#genshin impact x reader#kaeya x reader#albedo x reader#diluc x reader#zhongli x reader#xiao x reader#baizhu x reader#kazuha x reader#ayato x reader#itto x reader#gorou x reader#heizou x reader#venti x reader#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley x reader#freminet x reader#childe x reader#dainsleif x reader#aether x reader#pantalone x reader#pierro x reader#capitano x reader#lyney x reader#cyno x reader#al haitham x reader#kaveh x reader#dottore x reader#wanderer x reader#thoma x reader#genshin impact x you
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Bound By Fate
Jenson Button x Fem!Teammate Reader
series summery: the strings of life connect two people; teammates, friends, perhaps lovers. Even when you think you’ve gotten rid of him, the strings of life pull you back in. some things are just meant to be.
author's note: this was prompted by god knows what but this is my new passion project. jenson girlies, this one is for you. shoutout to @mev33 for losing her mind over this with me <333
bound by fate taglist!
chapter one: united front
attached at the hip, jenson button and y/n l/n are the unstoppable duo. the same soul in two bodies. all but 4 points separating them. // “where you go, I go. What you see, I see. I know I’d never be me without the security of your loving arms, keeping me from harm. Put your hand in my hand and we’ll stand.” - Skyfall by Adele
chapter two: time cast a spell on you
spending nine months with someone is a long time, especially when you’re forced to be with them. feelings grow, both good and bad. - “Time cast a spell on you but you won’t forget me. I know I could have I loved you but you would not let me. I’ll follow you down ‘till the sound of my voice can haunt you. Oh give it just a chance. You’ll never get away from the sound of a woman that loves you.” - Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac
chapter three: the blame is on you
two mclarens spin out, drivers at each other’s throat but only one’s to blame. what’s said on track doesn’t always stay there. - “It’s my own design, it’s my own remorse. Help me to decide, help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever. Everybody wants to rule the world.” - Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tear For Fear
chapter four: no grace
jenson can’t take it anymore; the back stabbing, the betrayal. he did what he thought was best and left. on what was supposed to be the happiest night of y/n’s life, she’s heartbroken and upset. — “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace, so the battleships will sink beneath the waves. You had to kill me, but it kills you just the same. Cursing my name, wishing I stayed. You turned into your worst fears and you’re tossing out blame, drunk on this pain. Crossing out the good years and you’re cursing my name, wishing I stayed.” - My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift
chapter five: the final tango
y/n and jenson find themselves front and centre, smiling for the cameras in their sunday bests, yet their hearts are in different places. - “it hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you. I’ve done the math, there’s no solution. We’ll never last. Why can’t I let go of this?” - Promise by Laufey
chapter six: secrets of us
when all is said and done, it’s never really over, is it? jenson spills far too much in a tell-all interview that back fires on both he and y/n. - “And you don’t seem to understand, a shame you seemed an honest man. And the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear. And you know what they say might hurt you and you know that it means so much, and you don’t even feel a thing.” - Duvet by Bôa
chapter seven: a chapter of me
four long years have passed, both y/n and jenson are in different places of life but they find themselves at Silverstone, together once again. jenson’s a commentator and y/n’s still a racer. seems the dust has settled. - “Just wanna let this story die, and i’ll be alright. We can’t be friends, but I’d like to just pretend. You cling to your papers and pens, wait until you like me again.” - We Can’t Be Friends by Ariana Grande
chapter eight: a glimpse into the past
people come and go, life moves on; that has always been your view. you can’t move on when your past comes back to haunt you. - “So I ask myself, do I let you go or do I keep you in the frame of my mind? Now I’m growing wise to your sugar coated lies, nothing’s sweet about my misery. Yeah, I finally found what went wrong, i finally found the wrong in you.” - On My Mind by Jorja Smith
chapter nine: twelve steps forward, one step back
the final race of your life, mixed emotions truly. your career was one out of a movie, you’re waiting for the final shoe to drop and when it does, it hits you hard. - “Isn’t it strange? I am still me, you are still you, in the same place. Isn’t it strange how people can change from strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again?” - Strange by Celeste
epilogue - chapter ten: the last bow
life post retirement is a funny thing, you thought you’d be having fun but you’re bored out of your mind. a solo trip results in seeing a ghost from your past. - “I'm sure we're taller in other dimension, you say we’re small and not worth a mention. You’re tired of movin’, your body’s achin’. We could vacay, there’s places to go. Clearly this isn’t all that there is, can’t take what’s been given. But we’re so okay here, we’re doing fine.” - White Ferrari by Frank Ocean
#bound by fate series#jenson button#jenson button x reader#jenson button x you#jenson button x y/n#jenson button f1#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 imagine#f1 series
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A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 6: Silver linings
genre: FINALLY JUST SOME PURE COMFORT FLUFFFFF
word count: 6151
pairing: reader x spencer reid
description: weeks pass you by without much happening and you need to remind yourself: you believe in silver linings.
a muted shade of green masterlist
previous chapter // next chapter
author's note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEE! It took me so long to feel like they were ready for this but oh my god, the wait was so worth itttttt! what are you excited about with this chapter? Let me know in the comments! <3 if you want to join the taglist for this series, please let me know in the comments! also, I would love to dedicate this chapter to the lovely @donttrustlove who reads and comments on every chapter I post <3
“We have a few emails coming in for the manager position, do you want to check them out?”
You two are sitting on his kitchen counter like this is the most natural thing to do at two in the morning. Spencer has work the next morning but still insists that it’s fine and that he wants to keep you company. You think he still feels guilty about the fact that, if not for him and his weird connection to Cat, you would have never been put into this tricky of a position. So he makes up for it where he can– he brings dinner whenever he knows he’ll be home late because he knows you’ll be waiting for him to eat; he makes a mean cereal bowl in the morning whenever he has time; he leaves books he knows you are yet to read by the small table next to your armchair because that is now your armchair and he would never steal that away from you.
In your own efforts, you also try to make him feel a bit more comfortable with the reality of everything, and you don’t bug him much to go outside, anymore. You don’t call him all panicked and gasping for air whenever he goes on work trips either, instead choosing to spend those lonely days in the endless company of Penelope. Officer Kaper has gotten better and been cleared to work again, and having him with you whenever Spencer isn’t brings you some sort of comfort and guilt. This man had become a target thanks to you and suddenly, you don’t quite read the fantastical stories of princesses and their faithful knights. The way your stomach weights down whenever they eventually get hurt to protect the fairest lady of the land does not sit right with you anymore– you refuse to believe that romance is hurt and pain for one and comfort and safety for the other.
At this point two weeks had gone by without you even noticing. Suddenly, you jumped from day 9 to day 23 and with the month mark approaching, so is your need for answers. Cat has been silent ever since the attack on Officer Kaper’s house, and so is her partner. For a second, it’s almost like she’s teasing you, like she’s throwing a taste of freedom in your face only to later pull the carpet from right under your feet. Spencer must feel like this too, considering how jittery he has been lately. At this point, you know how to recognise the different gestures of those pretty hands, and the way he fidgets with his fingers while reading War and Peace yet again tells you that he is not, in fact, reading the book, but trying to read himself. You don’t quite understand him fully yet, and that is okay; Spencer has shown you that even if it takes time, he is worth waiting for.
You still don’t know what happened to him, weeks ago, when you two were discussing Josh. You still don’t know what made him choke on his own words or what had his body limp and stripped of energy in your arms, but the truth is that you don’t really care what it was. Not yet. For now, you are just happy that Spencer showed you a side of himself that you had never seen before, and that he has been less… overbearing about your job. Actually, he had been the one that told you to check your emails for applications, suggesting stating the interview process so that you can make a schedule to possibly go back to the store. “Are you serious?” You whispered to him, eyes wide and waiting for Derek to pop out from the kitchen shouting ha! Gotcha!
“Of course,” He smiled and nodded and the rest is history.
The chairs are so close together that your legs brushes against his every time you lean forward to squint at the computer, but at this point, you two don’t even notice it. Cuddling on the couch after a mentally taxing conversation had unlocked new heights for you two, and though he does miss the way your cheeks flushed red whenever your fingers brushed, he prefers how now you just smile, honest and bright, whenever he’s closer than he should be. You don’t know that, but Spencer thinks your spoiling him rotten with these smiles. In your defence, however, smiling at him is just the easiest thing in the world. “Okay, what do we think of this one? His name is–“
“No.”
Your head whips to look at him, eyes wide behind your glasses. “But I didn’t even finish my sentence!”
“There is a weird gap in his resume,” Spence points out with a smug smile. He likes showing off to you, you’ve noticed.
“I can ask him about it during the interview process! Spence, he used to work at–“
“Next.”
You know he won’t budge when he gives you that tight-lipped, dimples-showing smile of his. “My god, you are hard to please,” You grumble and poke him in the stomach with your elbow, already scrolling to the next email.
When you feel his arm falling onto the back of your chair, you lean back a little into his touch, humming to keep yourself awake. “I am not hard to please,” He says easily. “I just won’t accept you hiring mediocre men to do the job you’ve been doing flawlessly.”
The way he emphasises men makes you chuckle. “But a mediocre woman is okay?”
“A bit better,” He admits gruffly, and you laugh. “This one seems promising!”
“Give me time to read, Spencer!” You groan, leaning forward again and nodding while your eyes scan through each line. “Okay, she seems good, Mr. Picky. Studied English Literature, so she’ll obviously have some literary background, has previous experience managing bookshops and cafes, has dealt with stock and suppliers before…” The list goes on and on, and you write her name down on the notebook to your right. That’s where the names Penelope will be running a background check on go, per Spencer’s insistence.
“Wait a second,” Something about the name, so visual and palpable in your little notebook previously filled with facts and memories of Spencer, makes you frown. Why does it sound so familiar?
Abigail Harrison.
“What is it?” He hums, chin once again finding perch on your shoulder. Little by little, you start to think that that is where he belongs, leaning on you, relying on you. “Who is Abigail Harrison?”
“I don’t–“ But then you see it, the address on top of the resume and you hold your breath. “Abigail.”
“Abi– Wait, the new neighbour? That Abigail?” His arms go around you, and now you’re in an awkward angle, half falling off the chair, half leaning on him, but you don’t mind. What you do mind is the uncomfortable, suspicious feeling in your gut. “Oh. That’s fine.”
“You don’t think it’s a weird coincidence?” Turning to look at him, you bit your lip in unsureness.
“Not really– if anything, I think it’s a very logical series of events,” He shrugs and you feel it in your own body. “She clearly has the experience and is obviously looking for a job, so why not one that fits her as an employee and is just a five minute walk across the street?”
As if sensing your worries, Spencer moves, yet again doing the unpredictable and dropping a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Having one thing to worry about it not enough, apparently, so he gives you another one, and now you know for a fact you won’t be able to sleep any time soon. He’s been doing things like this lately, and you think it’s because he’s finally getting used to your presence next to him at almost all hours of the day. His phobia of germs seems to be pushed aside when it comes to your skin, and if he washes his hand right after letting you go, you don’t take it to heart; it’s just who he is. But with cheek kisses and forehead kisses starting a list, this is yet another one for you to tally up– shoulder kisses. All five stars, ten-out-of-ten-would-do-it-again, though you don’t really ask him for them. You just wait. Living with Spencer has taught you patience, amongst many other things, and for him you don’t mind exercising it to its fullest, excited for your list to grow even longer.
“Garcia already ran her name through the database,” He whispers in your ear, hands going up and down your arms in a gesture that tells you he knows you’re nervous. “She’s clean, sweetheart.”
This is new too.
Letting out a strangled noise at the changes that kept on coming, you nod, mind completely shifting focus. “Yeah, okay,” You breathe out, eyes slowly fighting to stay open and not because of the time. “I uh, I’ll reply to her and ask her to come in to the shop for an interview…”
“That sounds great, but it also sounds like it can be done tomorrow when you’re not almost falling asleep,” Oh, sweet, innocent Spencer. Before you can even protest, he shakes his head, smiling like he’s trying to hold it back. “We’re going to bed, Y/N. I have work tomorrow and now, so do you.”
Any and all protests fall disappear from your lips– the prospect of getting to go to work after only being able to keep the store’s website open actually has you excited enough to make you sleepy. The contradictory emotions will surely bit you in the ass when you actually lay down next to Spencer, but you don’t care. You get to open up the shop again and that alone is enough to make you squeak in glee, naked feet thumping through the wooden floor. He always bugs you to put on socks, afraid that you’ll get sick with the cold breeze that manages to push its way in despite the windows being shut, but you like feeling the cold on your soles. It always sends a little zap of life up your body and you enjoy it the same way kids enjoy hopping in the mud despite the mess– it makes you feel alive.
There is a rhythmic routine to how you and Spencer get ready for bed. He brushes his teeth behind you, and you usually wash your face first, so that while he does it, you can braid your hair ready for the night. At first, you didn’t really worry about that because you two did your best to stay in your respective corner of the bed. You tried putting a pillow between you too but after the first time you kicked it off of the bed, you never bring it to the room with you again. Then you tried just paying attention, but that made you lose a significant amount of sleep and you ended up cranky for days. Giving up and accepting that, like it or not, you will end up waking up in Spencer’s arms, legs tangled with his and mouth drooling a little on his shirt, had been the best thing to do to move forward. Now, you two don’t pretend that anything else will happen, and before you’re even asleep, he opens his arms with a grunt, your signal to scoot closer and enjoy your very own space heater of man. “Alright, alright, I’m here,” You mumbled, happy with the way your body is warm but your feet are cold. So cold, in fact, that the moment one brushes up against his, Spencer yelps.
“What the hell was that?” He gasps, eyes going wide in shock.
“What?” You ask, smiling mischievously.
It would be unfair to say that the fear from early in the days has disappeared. It hasn’t– you’re still scared. Sometimes, it tackles you like a football player, abruptly and with so much force that you’re left breathless and immobile for a few minutes. Other times, it creeps up behind you, and you have time to prepare yourself. Despite the sudden appearances, however, your fear has lost that constantness that it had before. It’s duller, to the point that at times it’s just not there at all. And you quite like it, everything considered… it gives you space to breathe. It also gives you space to be– not be anything specific, but just be. And the more you can be, the more your personality starts to come back, peeking through the curtains you had set between yourself and the world.
Spencer always knew you were a playful woman, but this just confirmed it. “Y/N, don’t you–AH! Oh my god, these are death machines! Put some socks on!”
“Never!” You shout before fully pushing your feet against his legs.
Laying there, feeling Spencer squirm underneath you and then going off on some random fact about why it is important to keep your feet warm, is when you remember.
You are a believer in silver linings.
And you believe Spencer might just be yours.
————————————
The shop looked exactly like you had left it, which made you happy and sad at the same time. Took you almost an hour to leave the house that morning, Spencer practically having to drag you away from the mirror with promises that “You look beautiful, Y/N.” Officer Kaper is waiting for you by the door when Spencer drops you off with a kiss to your cheek and hurried steps down the street.
From then on, it’s a frenzy of cleaning. You try to convince Officer Kaper– or Mike, as he told you to call him– that he should sit down and guard the door, but he’s having none of it and instead, carries the not so heavy boxes of brand new books that you ordered as soon as you got news you’d be coming back to work. This is exciting to you, this return to normal, but it also makes you somewhat anxious. Once all of this is resolved– and you’ve taken to thinking about it with the mindset that it is not if it will be resolved, but once it is resolved– what will happen to you and Spencer? Living with him has its perks and the biggest one is that you get to actually see him with some sort of frequency. You get to experience having him in your life instead of just someone who comes and goes as they want. If you go back home, even if just across the street, right above your store he visits everyday… will you still feel this connection you do right now? Will you still get forehead kisses, and sneaky touches of his hand, and his pinky hooking with yours when you pass by?
None of that matters, though, when you hear the bell ringing through the shop. A customer. “Hello!” You call out from the shelves, making your way to the front. A buzz of anxiousness runs through you, though you quickly put it out; there is a literal police office standing guard by the door. You are safe.
You are even safer when you see it’s Abigail, the downstairs neighbour.
“Hi! I’m a little early, I hope that’s alright?”
Oh god. With all the cleaning and organising, you lost track of time. “Oh gosh, yeah, of course!” You say, pulling your hair down from the mess on top of your hair and smoothing it down.
You want to make a good impression on her. Out of all four interviews you have today, you hate to admit that Abigail seems the most fit for the position. Her experience is almost immaculate and her immediate availability is almost too good to be true. In fact, Abigail as a whole, with her warm smile and welcoming aura, seems too good to be true. As much as you believe in silver linings, she just seems like a straight up miracle.
“Please, sit,” Pointing to the foldable chair by the corner of the counter, you smile. “We don’t really have a sitting area yet, but I’m working on it.”
“Oh don’t worry about it!” Abigail’s voice is bright and peppy, and you should like her. You do like her, actually, but even so, you can’t quite ignore the nagging feeling in your gut. “I also brought a copy of my resume in case you didn’t have mine readily available–“
“I have it here, but thank you!” So far she has been nothing but delightful, and to be honest, it’s almost like she is a missing puzzle. The way she fits in the store is almost weird, and maybe is the way she is dressed so similarly to you, or how she looks like someone who would manage a bookshop, all plaid and cardigans and pretty smiles.
Pretty.
Abigail is pretty and that’s when it downs on you that you feel a little jealous. You are not ugly by any means, but the idea that Spencer will go to your store only to look at another woman– a younger, prettier woman– has you holding your breath.
“Y/N? Are you alright?”
Snapping out of it, you blush in embarrassment. You’re being crazy and you know it. “Yeah! Sorry, my mind went somewhere else for a second. So uh, why don’t we start with you just telling me a little bit about yourself and what do you want to work here, I guess.” You sound as unsure as you feel, and you suddenly regret saying no to the list of questions Spencer offered to make you.
“Well, we’ve met briefly when I was moving into the building,” She giggles. “But my name is Abigail Harrison, recently moved to Washington D.C. from New York City–“
“I’m from New York!” You exclaim, big smile spreading as you finally place the familiar intonation in her voice.
“No way! Where? I was born and raised in Brooklyn!” And suddenly it all makes sense– her cool nerdiness, her extroverted nature, her ease to fit in. This girl is definitely from Williamsburg.
“Oh, I was raised in the West Village but then moved to uh, Upper East Side,” The memory of moving in with Joshua is an uncomfortable one and makes you immediately change the course of the conversation. Throughout this interaction, you have to remember to be nice, but also serious. You don’t want to give her the impression that this will be an easy job, specially not with how reluctant you already were with hiring someone. “So, why do you want to work here? Besides the close proximity, of course.”
“To be honest, I–“ And there is a pause. It’s not long nor weird, it just sounds like she’s thinking, but Spencer likes to point out your own pauses whenever you try to lie to him about your strategy during nightly backgammon, and it’s become a sort of a bad habit you’ve gotten from him. Squinting, you let her continue. “I just really like the store. I know this sounds a bit ridiculous, but I walk past here every morning, and every morning, I prayed that it would be open. Everything inside looked so… homey. So familiar. And I’ve worked with books my entire life, you know? I thought… it was fate.”
There is a redness in her cheeks that makes you squirm in your seat, nape of your neck suddenly feeling a little clammy. “Fate…” You mumble, nodding while looking down at the blank notebook on your lap. Right now, you are torn– you are trying to understand what is it about Abigail that makes you so hesitant while also fighting against your gut simply because the more she talks about her experience, the more you know she has to be the one.
“…and after almost five years as a manager, I’ve found that I have a really good method of keeping things in order,” She finishes, nodding eagerly for you to show her any reaction.
“That is really good to hear,” You gulp, getting your head back in place. “So just to reiterate, this would be a full time, part time position, of sorts. I would still come in some days in the week, and you would be acting manager whenever I am not here to oversee things. Whenever I am here though, you would be a very welcomed extra pair of hands and company. Believe it or not, we tend to get quite busy during lunch time and it was getting a bit too much to be here by myself.”
“So we’d still work together some days, right?” Her excitement is so clear in her voice that even Officer Kaper turns to pay more attention to you two. “Like, we’d still get to be a uh, a team?”
“Of course,” You say, nodding stiffly and looking at the clock. “I love working in a collaborative environment and I wouldn’t leave you alone in a new job straight away. We’ll start with training days and go from there.”
“That sounds incredible!”
“Yeah…” Looking at Mike– you are doing your best to abide by his wishes and call him by his first name– he gives you a little nod of recognition. “Anyways, do you have any questions for me?” When she shakes her head, you get up and offer her a hand to shake. “I’ll be making a decision by today end of day. I have a couple of other people to interview, but I’ll let you know either way.”
Is it just you or is her hand lingering a little?
“If you don’t call me, I know where to find you,” She says, her little laughter giving out the fact that this is supposed to be a joke. But you don’t laugh. And neither does the armed policeman by your door.
“Ha ha,” You say, trying your best to be nice regardless. “That you do!”
“Your boyfriend is lucky to have you, I bet he gets lots of books for free,” Abigail is a chatterbox, that much is clear, and with every try for a conversation, the more you feel like she’s just digging for gossip. For a minute, you actually think you are back in high school.
“Wha–“
“Or is that not your boyfriend?”
You don’t really know what to do, and it shows. Which is why you’re not surprised at all when Officer Kaper, your one and only hero, steps in. “Sorry to ask, ma’am, I should’ve said something before, but would you mind me checking your ID? We are conducting a security check system for the businesses in this area, there has been a rise in robberies lately and this is just for precaution.”
“Oh my! Of course,” After that, it doesn’t take long for her leave.
There is not even a minute of silence until a customer walks in and you have to slap that fake smile in your face again. The hair on the back of your neck is standing up in a way that makes you a bit too aware of everything, and that, in turn, makes your heart skip a beat. Nervously glancing at Mike, you keep trying to remind yourself that you are safe, that you have someone to protect you. It’s hard to focus on your work when Spencer’s voice echoes in your head making up a list of everything that could go wrong. Your job is very open to the general public. People can easily see inside. You don’t know what they have in their bags. His habit of mouthing off whatever comes to mind is not coming back to bite you in the ass.
“You have a boyfriend?” Officer Kaper’s questions snaps you back to reality.
“Huh? Oh! No!” Shaking your head, you awkwardly lean over the counter to try and ignore the sure blush on your cheeks. “She’s talking about Spencer.”
“She knows Doctor Reid?” It’s clear from his tone that this arises some suspicion in him.
“She just moved into the building and we met her when we were coming out for a second,” You shrug. You don’t want to feed your panic and you also don’t want to leave the man who got injured because of you on edge and scared. Abigail is just a bit taller than you and definitely stronger, with the body of someone who seems to care about her healthy appearance, while you… well, you prefer sitting on your armchair all afternoon with a cup of coffee and a book in your hands. A bit of a cliche, yes, but your life overall was a bit of a cliche, if you think too hard about it. “Spence thought it was better to let her believe whatever.”
“Hm, I’m sure he did,” Mike said with a dramatic wink, wiggling his brows in that suggestive way that makes you chuckle so desperately that he has a hard time not laughing at your reaction. “You know, I think Doctor Reid has a crush on you.”
“Ex-Excuse me?” You sputter out, eyes wide at how easy it is for this man to voice something that has been swimming in your head so insistently.
Spencer having a crush on you is not that wild of a thought, when you think about it objectively. It’s the Proximity Principle. You read about it once back when you were in college and it’s kind of stuck– people are more likely to form close relationships with other people they spend significant amount of time with. Unfortunately, though, you also know that crushes are also dependant on a certain fantastical factor, something that allows humans to project a lot of their needs onto the one that holds their affections. Predicting Spencer’s needs is actually not hard either, and the more he tells you about himself, the more your heart break for the boy that lives inside that man; the one that is afraid of being abandoned, the one that misses his mother dearly, the one sees a family in the coworkers he spends so much time with. You see how you can fulfil this role for him, you’re not blind nor stupid. His smile gives him away, to be very honest, with how bright and big it gets when he notices you waiting for him to get home, sitting in your armchair, reading the book he left for you next to it. Or how he tries to hold it back, that gorgeous, beautiful smile, when he hears you calling his name, all whiny and shy at the same time, to ask him something so ridiculous and out of pocket that he can’t do anything but laugh.
You are the sense of belonging he never had.
The same way that he is the sense of consistency you’ve always craved. Though in your case, you know that he is so much more than that.
In his… well, you will never know until you ask.
And my god, you’re not ready to ask.
“Yeah, a crush,” Officer Kaper shrugs, walking to the counter and smiling like a kid saying something naughty. “He used to talk about you all the time, before all this. The pretty bookseller.”
“Now you’re just enjoying making me squirm,” You say, squinting at him despite how his words make your heart race.
“Maybe I am,” He jokes. “But I’m serious! You two are obviously into each other… right?”
“Officer–“
“Mike, please!”
“Mike,” You sigh with an attitude, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “Are you trying to profile me?”
His silence is enough of an answer to make you gasp.
“It’s not like that–“
“Mike, do you want to be a BAU profiler?!” The way you whisper makes all of this feel like a big secret ever. Your body is leaning over to try and get closer to him, and you’re so excited about knowing this that it makes you bounce a little in your feet. “Why didn’t you say something before? I’m sure Spence would help! You can ask him all the questions and–“
“I already too the FBI entrance exam once and didn’t get in,” He interrupts you with such abruptness that something in the air shifts. This is not fun anymore. It’s tense. “It’s fine. I’m happy doing my part here with the MPD.”
“You are,” You nod. “You really are. Thank you.”
That is the last of the small talk for the day, the next interviewee coming in before you can say another peep.
————————————
“Did you have a good time at the store today?”
This is the first time that you are not the one doing the waiting. Or the cooking. Or– “Did you clean?” You ask, a bit shocked with how spotless the entire place looks even though the air smells like tomato sauce and… something else?
“Why do you say this as something so hard to believe?” Spencer is baffled at your expression, laughing incredulously. “I live here! This is my apartment! I’ve been living by myself since I was 18!”
“I just never seen you clean!” You defend yourself with a lighthearted laughter.
“I’m thirty years old!”
“That just means you’re old,” And you two fall back to the usual teasings while you walk around the living room, dropping your coat and bag on the couch, and moving into the kitchen to help with whatever you can. “Oh my! And you even cooked! Careful Spence, you’re spoiling me… I might just want you to make me dinner everyday from now on.”
Spencer just shrugs with that little shy smile playing on his lips. “I could get used to spoiling you…”
“I could get used to being spoiled,” You mumble, eyes unwavering from his. Letting the tension of the moment grow, you push your hair behind your ears. “Can I help with anything?”
“Not really, I made sure to start it really so it would be ready when you came home,” He says and turns into a ball of excitement that is all limbs and fast words. You love him like this and so you listen, like you’ve been yearning to do all day. He tells you that this is a recipe that Rossi taught him a while ago, and the wine is the exact same one he recommended back then, and just as he says, when you look closely to the busy workspace on the kitchen isle, there they are– two glasses half-full. In a very Spence fashion, he goes on and on about the exactness of the ingredients and how the whole idea that cooking is about ‘feeling it’ is kind of stupid, but the more he talks, the more breathless you find yourself.
There is wine.
There are entrees, and it looks like Spencer did his due diligence, buying your favourite crackers from the deli nearby.
There are main dishes, sides, dessert; and you guess it is some sort of a tiramisu, catching the smudges of chocolate powder and coffee by the sink.
And then there is Spencer. There is Spencer back home early. Spencer wearing his favourite purple sweater. Spencer with his combed hair. Spencer without his phone? Now you are suspicious, looking around with a confused frown on your face.
“Is everything okay?”
“Where is your phone?” His satchel is also not where he usually leaves it, gone from it’s perch by the door.
“My phone?” He asks, sounding as confused as you. “Why do you need my phone?”
“I don’t, I just never seen you without it.”
“Oh,” That makes him laugh. “I don’t need it today.”
“Why not?”
“Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N,” Spencer catches you by the shoulder and brings you back to the set dinner. “Just sit down and enjoy this. We finally have some time to spend together.”
“You would never let anything kill me,” You say so easily that it can’t be anything else other than the truth. “Why don’t you need your phone?”
He snorts and turns to mix something in one of his many pans. “Because Hotch and Rossi forbade the team to call me tonight. Derek said he’d be on call instead.”
“That’s awfully nice of Mister Muscles,” You comment offhandedly and there is something about the way you notice Spencer tensing a little that makes your smirk.
“He has a girlfriend, you know.”
“Oh, I know– I heard it all from his baby girl, who is not his girlfriend, but is a big fan of that couple,” You say, happily smiling while munching on a cracker. “Why?”
“Just checking if you knew. A lot of girls are usually… taken… by Derek’s looks and charms, but he’s off the market now. I think Savannah is here to stay.”
Crinkling your nose at the though of dating Agent Derek Morgan, you quickly shake your head. “God, no, I’m not– No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he is objectively handsome, but he’s not my type.”
“Are we talking about the same Derek Morgan?” He scoffs without turning to you. “He is everyone’s type…”
“Not mine,” You repeat, silently getting up from where you sway your feet. With muted steps, you walk around the kitchen isle to stand behind him, fidgeting with your hands in a moment of unsureness.
Maybe you are reading this wrong. Not every man that does a nice gesture is interested in you, you know that mainly because you never really believe people are interested in you at all, but it’s getting progressively hard to not look at everything he had done for you and not think it is a date.
Before you can overthink this, Spencer is moving backwards. “Oh? What is your type, then– oh fuck!” Your arms go around his waist as soon as he bumps into you, and you don’t let him squirm away, even though he tries. “Y/N, wha-what are you doing…?”
Gently, you let your head fall onto his back, forehead pressing close to his nape. Silence reigns until you are ready to speak, but Spencer waits, tense and oh so patient. “Spencer,” You whisper with your broken voice, nerves getting the best of you and making you shake like a chihuahua. “Spencer, is this–“
Sweet as ever, his hand moves from the counter, where his knuckles are white with how hard he grips it, to a slow touch to your hand. Brushing his fingers overs your skin, he whispers back. “Is this what?”
“Spencer is this a…” Why can’t you bring yourself to say it?
Around you, there is noise. You hear the neighbours upstairs, the click-clack of their shoes echoing until they are gone. You hear the heater pipes reading themselves to work through the night once again. You hear the food in front of you two bubbling and sizzling. And my god, do you hear him… you hear his heart, beating, racing, so strong and fast, that you smile to yourself. This is all Spencer– every noise, every shake, every thump and thud of that amazing, loving heart of his.
“It is.”
Your arms squeeze around him in shock. “I didn’t even say it.”
“By now, you should know you don’t have to,” The soft cadence of his perfect pronunciation tells you that he is feeling confident and calm, and you bask in it for a second or two. Until he hits you with the million dollar question. “If Morgan is not your type, who is?”
“I want to say it, though.”
“Who is your type?”
It’s a weird battle of stubbornness between you two, but you don’t mind. You would fight this war forever, if it meant this– feeling him alive and breathing and laughing. “Let me say it,” You ask, smiling coyly even though he can’t see it. “Please.” His adorable little laughter sends a wave of ripples down his back and you press your face closer to feel it. “Say it then.”
“Spencer Reid, is this a date?”
“I was hoping it would be,” He says and pauses. “Y/N Y/L/N, am I your type?”
“I don’t really have a type,” You say slowly, pulling back a little to nudge him to turn around. You only smile when you see his eyes– those curious, curious eyes– that constantly look for answers for his questions. Sometimes, you don’t have answers, but he looks for them anyways. First in one, then the other. Spencer looks at you carefully, slowly, like you are something worth committing to that memory of his by the detail. Like he wants to remember you even when he closes his eyes. You see it, how you make him feel like he belongs, with your open smiles and blinking eyes. But you also see, for the first time, how you are also so much more. “But if I did, it would be you.”
You are a believer in silver linings.
And yes, Spencer might just be yours… specially with the way his lips feel against yours.
---------------------------------------
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Hello everyone.
This will be a rather long post about some things I wanna adress, including the fact that I plan to stop writing for Pressure, my OCS and other peoples Ocs in the near future.
Down under the cut is a list with my personal view, issues and some other things that lead to this decision. Maybe I miss a lot or don't go too deep into detail but the main points are covered.
But before I would like to add that this is MY opinion and MY choice. I let you think of it what you want but I also request that you respect my actions.
The first point is probably already clear from the start. Maybe some noticed, maybe not but I fell out of love with the fandom and the game itself. It became boring to play, the characters lost their charm and I can't come up with any creative scenarios anymore and the ones that already exists have lost their meaning. This may sound like the typical burnout thing and maybe it is but I'm more than certain that I wanna step away from the game and the fandom to focus on other things that bring me more joy. Maybe I start a multifandom writing blog or I just learn another hobby.
The second thing that is close connected to the first point is the fandom of the game, including the community on tumblr. A huge part are super sweet people with a very creative side. I would go as far and say that I brought some of those together with my projects and writing and it really makes me happy to see everyone interact so friendly on my blog.
But something that I haven't adressed is the fact that there are also plenty of hardcore fans, haters and weird people in my askbox or general in the fandom. It is to be expected when someone gains a massive amount of followers. But I do not accept the fact that people judge me based on what I write, who I write for, when I write and if I write at all. I delete those asks. Some telling me that my community project is awful, unserious and pulls other ocs into dirt. Other people are claiming that I don't write Sebastians Character right and oh wow seriously? I am not Sebastians creator, I do not have that ultimate deep lore and mindset to write a person 1:1. I get hate for my own stories and of course the fans could now come to my protetion and say „But Chea don't listen to the haters, you are amazing“ but it doesn't fix the thing in a slightest.
Also regards the people that praise me, some of them ( I won't name anyone) are counting to those weird people that force me. There were 2 or 3 people that acted all sweet in public only to try and take control of some story plots etc.
Also, I started writing when Pressure was first raising to be popular. There weren't many pressure writers out there. I am usually not someone that posts their work online, I don't comment on stuff and I rarely like something. But I really wanted to see more pressure fanfictions. Now we reached the point where there are more than plenty amazing writers and I can quit. There is no need for me to continue something that only makes me hate myself more because everytime I open my notes to write a story for pressure it feels like a mental torture. I leave the writing to the other blogs.
The status for now:
AASB gets discontinued.
Reverse AU gets discontinued.
Streamer AU will recieve 6 more chapters to end the story on a good term.
House of Entities will get continued for a small period of time, probably till I am done with the Streamer AU. There is no plan for the chapter count yet.
All requests in the inbox will get deleted and the inbox itself will be closed after Streamer AU finished.
Any other unnamed project will get discontinued as well.
All stories, one shots, series, drabbles and other works of mine are free to use. Other authors can pick them up, re-write them or just make an own story out of those. I drop all rights for the ideas and I won't demand any credits either. Maybe someone else would like to continue House of Entities as well.
My final word, which may sound repeating: I do not change my opinion, there won't be any motivation talks or sugar coated words that will change my stand in those things. I know some of you will try and comfort me but this is really not needed. I wish for you all to accept the outcome of this situation and move on more or less.
I apologize dearly because this is very sudden and I hope you all will understand.
-Chea
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"I couldn't want you anymore" | part 3
Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader
series masterlist | previous chapter | next | masterlist
summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.
warning: no use of y/n, "Bee" is reader's nickname Joel gave her, fluff, allusions to smut or almost, angst, miscommunication, there's a lot of tension and things are getting complicated.
a/n: Hello! Chapter 3 is here! I took time off this weekend so i had time for writing this and here we are. I really hope you like this one because things are going to happen next chapter 👀 Happy reading and remember, reblogs and comments are always appreciated, thanks for the love on this fic so far and I'm always love hearing from you, you can send me any ask or talk to me, and as always if you want to be tagged, just tell me 💌
Two days had passed since your encounter with Lauren, and during those two days, you had been doing your best to avoid Joel. Not only for your own sense of humiliation but because you didn’t want to step into a story you weren’t part of. You felt ashamed of being in the middle of a relationship without closure between them.
However, Joel noticed and he started to miss you, your acts of affection, like the warm coffee you had been bringing to him in the morning and the genuine connection blooming between you. These two days just felt emptier without you. you. These
He knew something was off with you, so he decided to face you and went to your flower shop with the only objective of talking to you in his mind. As he entered, the familiar sound of the bell he was getting used to chiming, he saw you there arranging a bouquet of roses as you always did.
You glanced up, your expression guarded “Joel if you need anything. I’m really busy right now”
"No, you don’t” Joel replied firmly, walking to the counter to stand in front of him. “You can’t continue avoiding me like this.”
Your eyes narrowed as if you didn’t understand what he was talking about. “I’m not."
Joel took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “Bee”
You sighed and looked at him in the eyes. “It’s hard, but Lauren”, you finally acknowledged the source of your discomfort.
“Oh. Who told you?” he asked, his voice tinged with guilt.
“What?”
“It’s because I let her meet Sarah. Isn’t it? Because I didn’t tell you?”
You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came. A mix of emotions swirled inside you. But it mostly hurt.
“Bee?” he pleaded, waiting for you to say something.
“I have nothing to tell you, Joel,” you said, and undertone your words.
Joel's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair, clearly conflicted. “Are you jealous or what?” he accused you.
“What are you talking about?” you asked, defiantly.
“The way you’re acting,” he said, raising his voice.
"Joel, it's not just about that," you said, your voice lingering with frustration. "It's about how you asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend just for you to become closer to her?
Joel's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. “Bee, I didn’t want to hide it from you. I just... didn’t know how to explain everything. It's complicated."
You let out a bitter chuckle and Joel looked taken aback, almost offended. He didn’t know what to say to make things get better.
“Why do you care?”
Your frustration was evident as you replied, "Because I'm stuck in the middle of this mess, Joel. I didn't sign up for this drama."
Joel's face contorted with a mixture of anger. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have. Sarah is my daughter. I know what’s good for her.”
Your frustration flared, and you spoke sharply, "You're so focused on your own problems, Joel, that you can't see how this affects everyone around you. Including me."
The tension reached its peak, and your voices rose in unison as you both shouted at each other, the anger and pain speaking for both of you.
"Well, that's my problem to deal with, go to hell!" Joel retorted.
"Fuck you!" you shouted back, your voice laced with frustration and pain. "Get out of here before I hit you in the damn face!"
With that, Joel turned and stormed out of your flower shop, leaving behind a cloud of unresolved emotions and a shattered pretense that had held your worlds together.
And Joel didn’t know why his heart hurt so much.
In the aftermath of your heated argument with Joel, you were left feeling like you were on fire. The tension between you had reached its peak, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had made a terrible mistake by getting involved with him.
Over the next hours, you tried your best to put some distance between yourself and Joel. You solely focused on your flower shop and threw yourself into your work, hoping that distraction would help you forget about the consequences of your actions.
As you were busy cleaning the counter in your flower shop, you suddenly felt a pair of hands cover your eyes. Startled, you nearly dropped the cloth you were holding.
Your heart hammered in your chest thinking it was Joel with an apology, but then a familiar voice whispered in your ear, "Guess who?"
Your heart skipped a beat as a rush of emotions overcame you. You knew that voice and the feeling of those hands on your eyes. It couldn't be... could it?
With a mixture of excitement and disbelief, you reached up to remove the hands from your eyes and turned around. Standing before you was Connell, wearing his characteristic smile.
A gasp of surprise escaped your lips as you took in his appearance. He looked just as handsome as ever.
"Connell!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you held him close. "When did you get back?”
Connell chuckled warmly, returning your hug. "Job offer” he replied. “Not here, but I wanted to see you.”
You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with happiness.
“You look as stunning as always,” he said in disbelief.
His compliment about your appearance brought a blush to your cheeks, and you couldn't help but smile. "You look pretty great yourself, Connell."
As Connell surprised you in your flower shop and you shared a warm embrace, Joel watched from a distance.
As you and Connell shared your warm embrace, neither of you noticed Joel watching from a distance. He was confused as he observed the reunion. Part of him felt a pang of jealousy, even though he couldn't quite explain why.
“That’s Connell if you are asking.”
Joel turned his head to face the voice. It was Lily.
“Her ex,” she added.
Joel's gaze shifted from Lily to you from afar as she provided some context for him to understand what this could mean. His jaw tensed slightly as he processed the information. Your ex-boyfriend was here, and the situation suddenly felt even more complicated to deal with.
Lily, enjoying the drama, couldn't resist stirring the pot. She raised an eyebrow at Joel and asked, "So, Joel, why are you looking at her like a puppy?
Joel's expression remained guarded as he replied, "I just wanted to talk to her”. He said, “But I see she is busy”. The last sentence came with laced jealousy written over it.
Lily couldn't help but grin at Joel's tone. She leaned in closer, her voice teasing. "Busy with her ex, it seems."
Joel's jaw clenched, and he shot Lily a pointed look. "It's none of your business, Lily."
“They were so in love, you know?” Lily continued to tease. "Oh, I can tell. The way Connell's looking at her, it's like he never left."
Joel's irritation was palpable, but before he could respond, Lily added, "But hey, Joel and Bee are nothing real, so no need to get jealous.”
Joel sighed, realizing that Lily wasn't going to let this go. "Lily, can we not do this right now?"
Lily stopped, but her mischievous grin remained. "Alright, alright, Joel. I’ll go, but come back later. You may find her in a better mood.”
With that, she patted him on the shoulder and headed towards the door of your shop, leaving Joel dealing with his own mixed feelings towards you.
By the next day, Joel grew incredibly worried about you not showing up at your job. The worst scenarios came to his mind, the thought of him and Connell spending the night together the one stabbing deeply in his heart.
The idea of having you next to his gallery for four years, not caring about you at all now, you being the only thought in his mind, made him mad. He hated the feeling that now had settled in his heart at the memory of you.
Your sudden disappearance only fueled his anger towards you, but mostly towards himself, so by the time the day was over for him, he drove to your house. He decided to confront you.
All the way, he had been practicing the speech he was going to give you, the words he was going to say, and the possible reactions you could have. However, when he knocked at your door and you opened it, he was taken by surprise. You looked absolutely miserable. Your face was flushed, your hair a mess, and you were sniffling, clearly sick.
His anger immediately dissipated at your image, replaced by concern.
“How do you know where I live?” you asked slowly, whispering.
He thought it was funny that your first concern was him being here.
“Are you okay?” he asked with concern in his tone.
You gave a weak nod. "Just a stupid cold."
Joel's anger had melted away the moment he saw you in such a vulnerable state. Without another word, he stepped inside, gently closing the door behind him.
He walked over to you, his expression softening as he took in your appearance. "You should be resting," he said softly, studying all your face.
“It was what I was doing until an idiot knocked on my door.” You managed a faint smile.
Joel chuckled and told you to sit, then he went to the kitchen, rummaging through your cabinets to find some tea to ease your misery. He quickly brewed a cup of hot tea and brought it to you along with some medicine he found on the counter.
Sitting down beside you, he handed you the warm mug. "Here, drink this. It should help."
You rolled your eyes at him, taking the tea, sipping it, feeling the soothing warmth spreading through your body. Joel watched over you, concerned because you were not the girl full of life he had gotten used to for the last weeks. He checked your forehead with the back of his hand, checking your temperature. It was a simple gesture, but deep down he knew he had started to care about you.
As you leaned back on the couch, feeling the effects of the tea and the medicine, you couldn't help but thank Joel’s presence next to you that you ended up falling asleep on his shoulder and his heart melted in his chest.
Seeing that he had grown tired from the effects of the tea and medicine, Joel carefully set the empty mug aside. He couldn't help but smile softly as he watched you drift off to sleep, your head resting on his shoulder. At that vulnerable moment, you seemed so delicate and different from the annoying person he thought you were, a picture he had created of you by himself, far from the truth. You were actually nice, caring, and the person with the biggest heart he had ever known.
Gently, he lifted you into his arms, cradling you as he stood up from the couch. Your head nestled against his chest, and he could feel the rise and fall of your breath, steady. Without a word, he carried you to your bedroom, careful not to wake you.
As he laid you down on the bed and pulled the covers over you, he couldn't help but linger for a moment, his gaze tracing the lines of your face. It was a rare sight, seeing you so peaceful and vulnerable, and it tugged at something deep within him.
Joel knew he should leave and let you rest, even when he didn’t want to, but as he turned to go, your voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Joel, don't go," you murmured, your eyes fluttering open slightly.
You reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "Please, just stay."
That was all he needed to stay. He carefully climbed into the bed beside you, making sure to maintain a respectful distance, but you shifted closer, seeking the warmth and comfort of his body. The two of you lay there in silence, your breathing gradually synchronizing in the silence of the room. Joel watched over you, a rush of emotion ran through his body and he made himself feel comfortable against you.
“Don’t get too comfortable, Miller. Remember, we can’t fall in love” you whispered as you snuggled on his chest.
Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your whispered remark, even as his heart skipped a beat at the intimacy of the moment.
"I’m doing my best to keep that promise," he murmured in reply, not feeling sure of that promise anymore.
It didn't take long for him to fall asleep as well. The warmth of your body against him lulled him into the best sleep he had had in years.
At that moment, there was no fake relationship, not pretending, but just two people resting in each other’s arms.
The next day, after a restful night of sleep, you woke up feeling better, better enough to go back to work. You decided to start again, putting aside the last argument with Joel and focusing on your own job. Besides, after last night, you were grateful for Joel and you couldn’t find yourself mad at him anymore. So, the first thing you did was arrange a bouquet of flowers for Joel and go to his gallery, making your way to his office. There wasn’t a signal of Joel, so you placed the cup of coffee on his desk, along with the bouquet, and some pastries, and left a note:
I know you hate flowers, but thanks for last night, I feel better because of you.
Then, you returned to your flower shop, hoping the note would make him smile.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur with you arranging flowers and serving customers as usual, and even when you kept yourself busy, your mind occasionally drifted back to Joel, anticipating his reaction to the flowers, and just as you were arranging a bouquet of sunflowers, your phone chimed, interrupting your thoughts.
Joel
Thanks for the coffee and the pastries, I’m happy you’re better, bee.
By the way, I don’t hate flowers anymore.
You smiled at that, leaving the message unanswered.
As night fell, you noticed Joel was still working in the gallery. So, you decided to pay him a visit.
When you arrived, the gallery was dimly lit, with the soft glow of lights illuminating the pieces of art displayed inside. You spotted Joel in the studio, focused on adjusting the lighting to highlight the details of the paint he was currently working on. Looking at him, this focus gave you a moment to appreciate his dedication and his own features under the cast light. You have never seen him this way, so focused as he smoked out the air of the cigarette between his lips.
He didn’t notice your presence until you approached inside the studio. Joel looked up from his work and his eyes met yours. Surprise flickered across his face as he took in your figure in front of him. The corner of his lips curled into a small smile.
"Bee," he said, setting down his brush and walking over to you. "I didn't expect to see you here."
You returned his smile, feeling a sense of ease wash over you in his presence. "You left early this morning, so I thought I'd stop by and see how you're doing."
“I wanted to let you sleep.”
You shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips “Well, your plan didn’t work.”
Your eyes shifted from him to his work. He was painting a portrait of a woman. You took a moment to admire the painting, intrigued by the way Joel's work, and your heart skipped a beat as you realized the woman in the painting was you.
"Joel," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "Is this... me?"
"Yes, it's you." He said as you stepped forward in front of him. You couldn't tear your gaze away from the portrait. It made you feel beautiful.
"Why?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
You felt Joel stepping closer from behind you, as you kept admiring the canvas. He took another step closer, and his hand gently cupped your waist, “Well- “he cleared his throat. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today.”
Your breath caught in your throat as his words hung in the air. The gallery around you seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in a color you had searched for years.
As you felt his presence linger, you were able to cast a glance at him over your shoulder. Not speaking as you silently held his gaze, watching his eyes not leaving yours.
“Bee” he leaned closer to you, whispering smoothly in your ear, as his chest brushed your back.
You had been getting closer in the last weeks, but this moment was different and intense, and it was making your heart beat hard against your chest.
You tried not to be affected by the closeness, you were trying really hard, but everything around you was slipping away and Joel was the only clear thought you had in your mind. It was like you were under a spell.
He learned, leaving small kisses on your neck, as his hand travelled down the curve of one of your hips, gripping your skin all over the material of your clothes. He whispered your name against your skin, leaving goosebumps traced on it.
“Can I kiss you for real this time?” He whispered lustily.
You turned to face him, and his hands held your waist, your widened eyes locked with his, feeling a magnetic pull, a connection without boundaries, when the false reality you had created blurred, and all that mattered was the feelings pulling both of you closer right now.
As he stood there, in front of his own piece of art, his lips dropped down to your mouth, already devouring it with his gaze. You couldn’t help but feel wanted under his stare.
You didn’t react at first, his mouth took your lips in his and he properly kissed you for the first time, because this kiss was real, one you both wanted. His hands grabbed your waist and held you against him as if his life depended on it.
Kissing Joel for real felt like driving in a dead-end street, like crushing your bones against the waves of the sea just to be brought back to life. And he also felt like the sun at the end of summer burning deep down your legs being carried out by passion and desire.
A gasp escaped from your throat, Joel’s mouth moving over yours in slow motion, savoring the taste of your lips to never forget it again. Your kisses felt like eating the sweetest fruit in summer.
He gently pushed you against the wall as your legs spread, giving him closer access to you. As the kiss deepened, the feeling wasn’t just magical, but it was hot, with his tongue against yours. There wasn’t a proper way to get closer, but you wanted him closer, you wanted to feel him on top of you.
Joel slowly detached his lips from yours, looking flustered at the intensity of the kiss you had just shared.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
You quickly nodded, as you traced your hands on his hair down to his neck and rapidly connected your lips with him. This time it was even hotter, now there was desperation in the touch.
The air in the room grew heavier, filled with the sound of small whines slipping from your lips as he travelled his way down your neck with his lips, you felt like his own canvas being delicately traced by his lips brushing over your skin, planting tattooed kisses on his way.
He was capturing every second of this in his mind, the taste of your mouth, the softness of your skin, and the sound falling out from your lips, as he didn't stop taking every visible inch of your skin in his mouth. Every touch sent shivers straight down where you wanted him the most.
A slow moan escaped from your lips as he hit the hot skin of your neck.
"Everything's f-"
You shut him down by furiously attaching his lips back to yours. His hand left the back of your neck, travelling down your chest as he remembered how every inch of your body felt under his touch and he smiled against your lips. The ache between your tights intensified at that, all while his hand pushed under your skirt and brushed where you wanted to be touched the most.
"Oh" you breathed.
Joel stopped kissing you for a moment to look at you, and he had a small smirk on his lips because he knew what he was doing. Leading not only by the desire but because of the mixed feelings he had for you.
“I’ve been really,” he kissed you “loving” He kissed you again “spending time with you”
And at that moment, breathing heavily against each other's faces, he kissed you again, and this time he went for it. He grabbed your bottom lip between his teeth as his hand rose higher on your tight.
He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer in a quick motion, your hand on your back holding your tight. You fell against his chest, falling apart under his gaze and touch. His lips pressed against you with a crazy need.
Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears when he kept caressing every inch of you, making you spin. His palm smoothed over the curve of your waist down to your bum and gripped it tightly, moving you even closer to him.
You let out a whine at that, and one your legs was pulling him on hold, kissing down his neck. You could feel him clenching under you.
He let out a groan, while you moved your hand along his chest down to his jeans, his own hand leaving your body to grasp your hold against him. He groaned low against you.
He stopped kissing you to meet your eyes briefly.
“I want you,” he said, capturing your lips as his teeth grabbed your bottom lip and his hand cupped the side of your face.
“You can have me” you whispered, resting your forehead on his.
He leaned forward, capturing your lips as he unbuttoned your blouse, your hands working on his jeans, and planted kisses on his mouth. Kissing him deeply as one of your hands rested between you two, as you wrapped your hand around him.
He lifted you with force as you wrapped your legs around his waist, your back to the wall. His hands on your hips to hold you right there. The air in your lungs was trapped in a bubble of incredible pleasure, but it still found a way to escape in rushed moans against his mouth as you both kept devouring each other.
He groaned against your mouth, lips parting, unable to utter other things instead of whimpers that drove you absolutely crazy.
Just as you were almost crossing the line of the agreement you made. A voice calling his name suddenly ruined the moment. He pulled away with a reluctant sigh, his eyes still locked with yours.
Fuck.
"Joel!" Tommy's voice echoed through the gallery, and you both turned to see his brother approaching.
Joel cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, pulling you down carefully and fixing his jeans rapidly though his eyes still lingered on you.
"Tommy, what are you doing here?" he asked, leaving the studio.
Tommy chuckled, his grin widening. "Well, you told me to pick you over tonight.”
Joel blinked, momentarily confused by his brother's words. Then the realization dawned on him.
“You forgot? Because- Bee?” he asked in disbelief once he spotted you hiding behind the door of Joel’s studio in the gallery.
You stepped out from behind the door, feeling a bit awkward and ashamed. "Hi, Tommy.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye “What are you doing here?
You struggled to find words to explain your presence at the gallery at 09:00 p.m. “I just thought I’d stop by to help Joel.”
“With your mouth?” he asked you.
Joel shot his brother a warning look, but Tommy just grinned wider. “I’m sorry but your unbuttoned jeans and the messy hair speak louder.”
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you looked away, suddenly self-conscious under Tommy's teasing gaze.
Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tommy, can we talk about this later?"
Tommy laughed, clapping Joel on the back. "Sure, sure. I'll let you two get back to your... art appreciation."
With a final wink in your direction, Tommy made his exit, leaving you and Joel alone.
“By the way, you’re are getting pretty good at pretending,” he shouted for the last time.
“I guess he is right,” you said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.
Joel nodded, but there was a contemplative look in his eyes. "I wasn’t pretending.”
There was a moment of silence between you two, the unspoken tension from earlier still lingering in the air.
Joel's words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of confusion and curiosity. "What do you mean?"
Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. " I care about you, Bee”
Your heart skipped a beat at his admission. He couldn’t believe he had just confessed something he only thought was in his mind and it left you both surprised.
After two days, both Joel and you were in a game of changing minds with none of you wanting to face each other after the events of the other night, when you almost crossed the line of pretending while tracing shades of love you didn’t want to admit. And if you face each other, your armor could fall again, and neither of you wanted that.
But you couldn’t stop replying to his words in your mind, wondering if he had truly meant them or if it was just a slip of the passionate moment that felt like a sin.
As evening descended two days later, you found yourself at the gallery once again. Contemplating your options. Going inside and falling into his language that made gravity fall too much or going back to your home and pretending Joel wasn’t your Achilles heel.
This time, you went for the first option, and the same soft glow of light was illuminating the space like the other night. However, this time it wasn’t the same. Joel was standing next to one of the art pieces, sharing a laugh with Lauren. They seemed to share a really good moment, with genuine smiles displaying on his faces, and it was clear that you had interrupted a moment between them.
Your heart sank at the picture. Just imagine bringing women to his gallery to fuck them in his studio was something casual for him.
You hesitated, before making up your mind and leaving, but your footsteps must have caught their attention because Joel's gaze locked onto yours, and he quickly excused himself from the conversation with Lauren. Lauren turned to look at you, her expression unreadable.
Joel approached you with a concerned look. "Bee? What are you doing here?"
You couldn't hide the hurt in your voice as you replied, "I came here to talk to you, Joel, but I bet you’re busy”
You felt a surge of disappointment and Lauren's presence behind only added fuel to the fire of your own humiliation.
“It’s not what-
“Joel? Are you ready for dinner?” Lauren's voice interrupted the moment, and you turned to see her looking at you both with a faint smile.
You couldn't help but feel like an intruder, and the conversation you and Lauren had the other day made sense. After all, they had a bond that couldn’t be broken.
"I'll... I'll leave you two to your plans." You whispered, with a heavy heart.
Without waiting for their response, you turned and made your way out of the gallery, the heavy weight of uncertainty settling in your chest. As you stepped outside into the cool evening air, you couldn't help but feel like you had let Joel play with your feelings.
You knew that the arrangement between you and Joel was built on a foundation of pretense, but recent events had blurred the lines on that. Before you could gather your thoughts, you heard the door to the gallery swing open behind you, and you turned to see Joel rushing out. His expression was a mix of concern and desperation as he called out to you.
"Bee, wait! Please, let me explain," he pleaded, his footsteps quickening as he closed the distance between you.
You weren't ready to hear his explanations, not now. You took a step back, your voice laced with hurt as you replied, "Joel, I don't want to hear it right now”
Joel's face contorted with regret, and he reached out to gently touch your arm, his voice filled with sincerity. "It's not what you think, Bee.”
But your heart was too wounded, and you shook your head, pulling away from his touch. "Stop playing with fire, Joel”
Without another word, you turned and walked away, leaving Joel standing there, watching you go with a heavy heart.
Deep down on your thinking your phone vibrated, it was Conell,
Conell
Hey, are you free for dinner with me?
You considered Conell's invitation for a moment, after all you could use some distraction from all things running through your head.
You
Sure, is everything alright?
Conell
I'll tell you when we meet. Let's say 9:00? I’ll pick you up.
After confirming the time, you put your phone back in your pocket and watched Joel and Lauren making their way to his car. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy settle into your body. Their interaction seemed natural, so familiar, and you wonder if this is how he had felt about her at the beginning of their relationship.
Joel opened the car door for Lauren, and as she got in, their laughter echoed through the quiet evening. They seemed at ease with each other, and it made you wonder if all that Joel and you had shared for the past weeks was insignificant.
Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you made your way to your car to arrive home and get ready for your dinner with Connell. Not without shooting a last glance back at Joel before getting into your car, his eyes briefly met yours, and there was a moment of unspoken language in his gaze as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Then, he got into his car and drove away with Lauren by his side.
Your heart felt heavy after they left. A weight of uncertain feelings was running, making yourself questioning what was happening to you. Shaking your head to clear away the doubts, you started your car, drove home, and got ready for your dinner with Connell.
As you entered your house and prepared for dinner, you couldn't escape the thoughts of Joel in your mind. It was like he was hunting your brain and your heart and you swore that wasn’t going to happen. You even thought of canceling on Connell but he seemed to want to talk to you about something really important, so you ended up choosing an elegant but simple outfit, doing your best to ignore the pictures of that damn artist in your head.
When Connell arrived to pick you up, he greeted you with his familiar smile and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Some time ago, that small gesture would make your heart skip a beat, but now you didn't know what was happening.
Both of you arrived at a cozy but elegant restaurant and sat down for dinner. You both caught up in each other's lives, sharing stories of the time you had spent apart.
His career as a doctor and how your life has been going since you parted ways.
Being with him felt so comfortable and familiar that you even forgot about the mess you had in your life going on in your life right now. The way he threw his head back laughing at your jokes and how you always thought of him as your safe place and person, now brought back to you.
But as the night passed, Connell's demeanor changed and he took a deep breath before speaking. "There's something I need to tell you."
You looked at him, your curiosity piqued. "What’s wrong?”
He reached across the table and took your hand in his. "I came back not just for a job offer but because... I came back for you”
Your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in. "For me?"
Connell nodded; his eyes locked with yours. "No matter where I go or what I do, I can't stop thinking about you. I miss you, and I want us to have a second chance."
You were taken aback by his confession. The past had been complicated, but the idea of rekindling your relationship with Connell was both exciting and frightening. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts.
After all, you were single and you could end the stupid agreement with Joel and he could go back to Lauren and be the family they were meant to be, and you could simply ignore how your heart felt at that.
Connell’s voice broke your thoughts and he was looking at you with his blue eyes filled with sincerity. "I have an opportunity in London, and I want you to come with me.”
a/n: btw I only picture Connell as Paul Mescal and it may be because he played Connell on normal people haha.
tags 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#pedro pascal character fanfiction#joel miller series#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel miller angst#tlou fanfiction#joel the last of us#joel x reader#Joel Miller#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#the last of us#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascar character imagine#pedro pascal
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❤️🔥 Mercury in Libra 🪫
bangchan as your boyfriend series!!! (pt 5)
(based on astrology) 🔞
✨bangchan x reader (f); angsty sad times, little fluff if you try
✨word count: ~3.1k
✨5th and final part in chan’s astrology series!!! together, let’s take a look into chan’s natal chart to see what type of boyfriend he would be!
✨i will give a brief synopsis of what each chart placement means throughout the series (for all my non-astrology friends out there <3) and how that would affect channie in a relationship
✨ author’s notes:
(1) i do brief compatibility readings w/ skz members! if interested, send your natal chart to my inbox, as well as which member you’d like me to read for OR if i think there is one member best suited to you <3
(2) the aspects in this reading are based solely on my opinions and interpretations! nothing about a person is set in stone simply because of astrology. please don’t use anything i say as canon :)
✨warnings: sad plot, theme of unfaithfulness, occasional cursing
✨tl/dr: chan is a loverboy who gets caught up in flirting when he doesn’t even know he’s flirting. then he ends up a blubbering mess.
Mercury in Libra:
-Mercury is the planetary ruler of communication and intellect. It shows how you connect with others throughout everyday life, just in speaking with them. It can also tell you a lot about how you relate to others and interpret the information they give you.
-Libra is a cardinal sign, meaning that people who are in this placement REALLY live by the aspects associated with that placement- in other words, chan is likely to hold very true to these values.
-Libra is the sign of love, beauty, charm, and balance. Libra in Mercury has a few key traits when it comes to communication. They are natural charmers and can instantly make people like them simply by talking with them. Libras are very good at placating to what others want, so they can speak to you in a way that they tell you what you want to hear. Libras also love beauty, so they many times will have an elegant way of speaking or cute quirks and mannerisms. Lastly, Libras value harmony and balance, so most likely their communication style will either (1) mimic yours, or (2) counter yours to be able to reach a happy medium.
-Long story short: Mercury in Libra people are sweet talkers who can charm anyone they meet, make them feel special, and meet them at the communication level that they are in. HOWEVER, the downside to Libra in Mercury is that they do not like confrontation- so they are likely going to avoid any conversations that could disrupt the peace between them and that person.
As your boyfriend:
• Chan always supports you exactly how you need him to.
◦ Had a bad day? He understands, come lay on him and talk about it.
◦ Upset over a test score? Scores are stupid, he’s gonna buy you ice cream and let you rant about how ridiculous it was.
◦ Got into a yelling match with a close friend? Hold his hands and talk him through it. He wants to know how he can help.
• He adapts to what you need in that moment- if you need someone to listen, he will sit there with an open ear. If you need advice on what to do, he will analyze every option and patiently walk you through what he thinks is best.
• If you get really frustrated or angry over something, he will 100% come up behind you and bear hug you, shaking you around until you give in and put a smile on your face.
• “Come here and talk to me,” he says, pulling you down to sit on his lap.
• He loves talking about deep things with you, like the meaning of life. It makes him feel so lucky to have such a smart significant other.
• He stares at you in awe as you talk about things you’re passionate about. Even if he genuinely doesn’t care about the topic, he holds on to every word, thinking of how cute you are in this moment.
• He remembers every little story you tell him about your childhood. When you bring up a long-gone aunt, uncle, grandparent, etc., he says “Oh, the one you told me about who ___?” You always smile at how he remembers these little things.
• Chan knows that you’re mad. He ALWAYS knows.
• He can tell in the way that you don’t instinctively turn your knees towards him in the car and when you don’t automatically reach for his hand when you walk next to him.
• He may not know why you’re mad, but he does know that you are.
• What he has a really hard time with is addressing it.
• He’s been trying for days to make up for it- whatever it is.
• Every day, he starts with “Good morning beautiful.” And every night, he finishes with “Good night princess.” Making sure you didn’t feel unloved.
• He’s been doing extra housework- cooking, cleaning, finishing up odd jobs you’d asked about a month ago. Could that be it?
• He’s been putting his foot down at work, leaving every night 5 PM to make sure he gets to spend the evenings with you. Maybe that’s what this is about- maybe you just missed spending time with him.
• Chan doesn’t know what’s wrong, and nothing he’s done so far has changed anything.
• He was hoping that his efforts would change your attitude toward him, or even make you forget about it, but he just couldn’t understand why you weren’t letting up. Why you weren’t letting him in as closely as you once had. Why things were so good, but now they are so different.
• All he knows now is that he is hopelessly in love with you, but it seems like you don’t feel the same anymore.
• You both sat together on the couch for a while. You thought Chan wouldn’t notice as you slowly inched yourself away from him, more slowly as the minutes passed.
• But he knew. He tried to reason that something was wrong. He didn’t want to push for an answer yet for fear of learning one that he wished he wouldn’t have.
• You continued to scroll on your phone, mind-numbingly on the ‘X’ app. This was a habitual routine, but one you decided you needed to break.
• There were a lot of great posts on there, but there was a lotttt about your boyfriend on there as well. One more unwanted post you knew would send you into a spiral.
• But you couldn’t help yourself. You had to know.
• You scrolled through the hashtag on the app. “#bangchan” splayed across the search bar.
• Cute photos and gifs. Adorable collages. Sexy TikTok edits. The usual. It took you probably 10 minutes of scrolling before you found something that got you ticked off again.
• ‘Every goddamn time,’ you thought, as your scoffed and rolled your eyes. You stared down at the video playing on the phone, as if this was the first one you’d ever seen.
• The caption of the video:
“how cute is #bangchan looking flirting with #fem/idol 😭🥰”.
• You focused on the interaction on the screen. There was Chan at the award show last night, leaning in and whispering something into fem/idol’s ear. When he pulled back, he looked down at her with a big smile, and you could see her reciprocate by blushing intensely and batting her eyelashes back up at him. You watched as he continued to talk for a few moments, laughing and offering up big hand gestures before saying goodbye, making sure to fully catch her eyes and bow as he went.
• You quickly scrolled underneath to the comment section, hoping that someone would say something- anything- to make you feel better.
◦ “God I wish he would look at me that way 🤭”
◦ “omfg she’s so pretty id def have chan’s reaction too”
◦ “Crying 😭😭 When do you think they’ll announce that they’re together? ❤️”
• You swiped out of the app entirely, shutting your phone off afterwards and placing it in your lap. You continued to stare down at the black screen until you felt tears start to well up in your eyes.
• You quickly tried to blink them away, but you couldn’t help it. This was the third time THIS week that you’d seen him do shit like this. Smiling, blushing, and heavily complimenting one girl, helping another fix her shoe, and now this. Before, you could reason it away- chuck it up to him just being a “nice guy.” But you couldn’t keep doing that forever.
• You always saw the comments people left under the videos about how cute they would be together and how Chan would be the perfect boyfriend.
• ‘But little do they know,’ you thought as you sighed.
• You turned your legs along with your body fully toward the other side of the couch, opposite of where Chan was. You looked a bit ridiculous facing the other way, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to see his face. You couldn’t stand to.
• You let your mind wonder, repeating the video in your head. The way he looked at her and the way she looked back.
• ‘Am I stupid?… Have I been stupid this whole time?…’
• You thought back to when you first decided to make things official with him, and how you both agreed that it would be easier to not publicize the relationship. You didn’t want anyone coming in the way of what you have together.
• ‘Was that my first mistake? So he can date me in secret and go out and flirt with any other idol he wants?’
• Your mind drifted to each other interaction you’d seen with him. You had make excuses time and time before. But it hurt to see him like this. Your OWN boyfriend talking to another girl the way that he SHOULD be seen talking to you.
• You couldn’t help yourself as one tear escaped. Then two, then three. Before you knew it, there was a release of waterworks all down your face. Your mind got the best of you as you started sobbing into your hands, burying your face into the side of the couch. There was nothing you could do to stop yourself.
• “Baby?” Chan called. His response was met only with more tears.
• “Baby, what is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, scooting his whole body next to yours to hold your back.
• “Get off of me!” you lashed out. He looked confused for a moment, but released his grip from you.
• “Honey, please talk to me. What’s wrong?” he asked, genuine sadness on his face.
• Hearing him call you pet names, all while pulling shit like he just had, completely set you off. “Don’t call me that.” You straightened back up in your seat, slightly turning toward him, not daring to look him in the face.
• “Don’t call you what?”
• “Honey, baby, whatever. You don’t get to call me that anymore.”
• “Y/n, what is going on? Seriously?” He placed his face in front of yours and used his hands to move your shoulders around to face him. This is the first time he could see how red and puffy your face had become. He felt like a piece of him had broken off just looking at you.
• “What’s going on?” you cried. “I don’t know Chris, why don’t you tell me what’s going on.” You quickly unlocked your phone, the video still open on it. You dropped the phone down to him as you stood, then taking a couple of steps to get some distance.
• He watched the video, moving his head around as if he was studying it. He replayed it a couple of times, then turned it intently, like he was looking for a hidden message. But he could find none. He furrowed his brow, then looked back up at you with a stare of confusion.
• You scoffed. “Okay. So you see nothing wrong with that?”
• “With what? Talking to another girl?!”
• “FLIRTING with another girl, Christopher! Flirting!… I’m not stupid! This is the THIRD video I’ve seen like this in a week. Do you know how humiliating it feels to have to see you, who was supposed to be the love of my life, out here flirting with all these other idols THROUGH SOCIAL MEDIA.. AND THEN having people comment on top of it about how you two would be ‘just the cutest couple ever’! Do you have any idea how that feels?!”
• You saw him get a tinge of sadness in his eyes, but you cut him off before he could speak.
• “No, you know what? I KNOW you don’t know how this feels. Because I would NEVER think to look at another man the way that I look at you.. So you know what!? If you’re that interested in other girls, you can go for it! By alllll means, don’t let me stop you!” You could feel steam coming off of yourself.
• You didn’t even want to hear what he had to say, you just wanted to get out of there. He could have his idol life. Do whatever the fuck he wanted. He had you fooled for a while, but now you saw him for who he was. A liar. Wants his cake and eats it too. But not with you anymore.
• You turned on your heels to leave, thinking you’d go ahead and pack an overnight bag to head out. As you took your first step, you felt a grasp and a tug on your wrist in the opposite direction.
• You stumbled back, feeling him cling to your hand, then pull the top of your body slightly as he stood himself up. By the time he settled, he had you back facing right in front of him with your one hand in his.
• “Y/n, please don’t say that. Please, just listen to me,” he begged, eyes bigger than you’d ever seen them.
• “Listen to what? Listen to you explain how it’s okay to flirt while you’re in a relationship?”
• “That wasn’t flirting!”
• “Oh really, then what do you call that?!”
• “I was just being nice! I thought-” his voice cracked, tears starting to well up in his eyes. “I thought I was-“ he hung his head to the side. “I thought I was being nice!” He looked so defeated.
• And just like that, he started sobbing. Tears were streaming down his face like you’d never seen before. So powerful, they left visible marks even on his black shirt. He kept trying to get words out through his cries.
• ”Baby, I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” he cried. “I didn’t know it would come across like that… I would NEVER,” he genuinely could not contain himself as he strained to get the words out. “I would NEVER do that to you! I could never think of someone else like that.”
• Teardrops kept trickling down as he reached to grab your other hand into his. “I love you- only you! I could never flirt with someone else! But the fact that I made you feel like that- that that’s what it looked like to you…” he couldn’t even see anymore with the water flowing out of himself. “I am just so sorry… Y/n I’m so sorry! Please, please believe me.” He was getting choked now. His face was red like he was about to pass out from lack of air.
• You stood still, not knowing yet what to believe or what to say.
• “Baby please! Please,” he took your face in his hands, feeling of the few stray tears on your own face. “Please. I love you. Please don’t shut me out. I thought I was just being nice and I- I-… I’ve..” he huffed, struggling to get out what he wanted to say. “I’ve done the last thing I ever wanted to do. I would never intentionally hurt you, do you understand me?!” He tried his best to look into your eyes. All you could see were tears weeping out, redness shooting in all directions, and a look of absolute brokenness. “I promise I never meant to come across that way. I thought I was just being nice to her, that is ALL. YOU are the only person I care about. No one else means anything to me. Without you, I am NOTHING. Please baby, please listen to me. Please don’t leave me. I’ll do anything to make this right.”
• He continued to wail as he brought his arms around your body, resting his head on the side of yours. His tears began to soak down into your hair. There was still nothing you could say. I mean, what could you say? Your boyfriend was notorious for being a charming guy… But knowing that didn’t make this situation any easier.
• “Please baby,” he rubbed your head as he plead. “Please just tell me how to fix it and I will. I don’t want you to ever feel that way again.” You felt the water from his eyes now drench your hair entirely. “I PROMISE if you show me what I’m doing wrong, I will never do it again. I promise I will be perfect for you. Just tell me how. I will do ANYTHING! I am BEGGING, y/n!”
• He stood there, holding you as tightly as he could while cradling your head and trying to quieten his sobs. He waited for you to give him some sort of response. Good, bad, ANYTHING was better than nothing. He felt his heart physically break inside his chest when you remained silent, not even motioning to begin getting a word out.
• He slowly pulled his face away from your hair, coming up to face directly into you one last time. His whole face was swollen, pink cheeks now extended into a pink nose and pink ears, streaks of both new and old teardrops going in every direction.
• “Y/n please,” he begged. “Just tell me something… Anything.” He felt like the floor could drop from under him any moment. A gnawing pit formed in his stomach that he felt was going to jump out of his throat while waiting to hear you.
• You stood still for another moment, moving your eyes down and contemplating what you could even say at this point. Your emotions were so mixed.
• “I love you so much. Please know that,” tears still in his eyes, he leaned down to kiss you. It was wet and you could feel the desperation in the intensity he moved his lips over yours. You leaned into it the slightest bit, giving him most minute sense of hope. He clung onto the kiss with everything he could, throwing his lips further into yours before you felt the tears start to slowly separate you again. He pulled his lips off of yours with violent hesitancy.
• He whispered now, as if he didn’t want anyone else in the world to hear him. “Please teach me what you want. Say the word, and I will do it...” small tears now were the only ones coming out. “I would give up everything for you, y/n. Money, fame, anything. Please just teach me what you want…. Please-” he cried, “please don’t leave me.”
• wellll, I’ll let you decide what your fate is with chan 🤭 to forgive or not to forgive?
• ohhh the world of a mercury in libra
——————————————————————————————
If you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging <3
#bang chan#bangchan imagines#bangchan scenarios#bangchan x female reader#bangchan x reader#bangchan x you#christopher bang#skz imagines#skz x reader#bangchan fluff#bangchan stray kids#bangchan fanfic#bangchan#bangchan angst#chan fluff#chan imagines#chan angst#chan scenarios#chan skz#skz x you#skz series#skz scenarios#stray kids x reader#stray kids angst#bang chris#chan fanfic#stray kids imagines#stray kids#skz#skz angst
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TGG REVEIW *spoilers*
𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 THE GRANDEST GAME
[ “sometimes, in the games that matter most, the only to really play is to live.” ]
4 | ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ |
OVERVIEW ᯓᡣ𐭩
i’m so happy that this book finally came out, i had been looking forward to it for the past year!! and as always, jlb did not disappoint. it was so fun to see all of the dynamics between the new characters and the old ones.
first and foremost, here were some of the bad things. i had no idea why grayson was playing in the game? like it made zero sense to me why he would need to, even if her didn’t participate in making the puzzles. he was an a lot better person in this book though so im thankful for that. i did enjoy reading this book but at the same time, i kinda wished that there was more things out of the escape room and moments with out the riddles because it felt REALLY jam packed with them.
but on the lighter side, i loved all of the new characters in this book and the little things that we got to see of the old ones. the riddles and puzzles were fun, and the setting was also really interesting to me. it is absolutely insane to me how jlb manages to connect things that happened in her other books with this one and somehow make it all make sense when it comes down to it.
i thought that romances in this book were actually pretty good. one of my favorites was savannah and rohan, but i’m also excited to see how gigi’s romantic life plays out. and as always, avery and jameson served as always and everytime they were mentioned, i got super duper excited because they’re cuties and i love them. and of course, lyra and grayson were pretty good but i was expecting a lot more than what we got.
CHARACTERS ᯓᡣ𐭩
lyra kane - so, on tumblr she was very hyped up and i have never really played into that because i didn’t have strong feelings about this character that we didn’t know. and now that i’ve read the book, i still have a lot of the same opinions on her and i mainly predicted how i would feel about her. although she was a good character and i did like her, she just didn’t feel like anything special to me? but that’s just a personal preference and i know that a lot of people d9 like her. A LOT.
grayson hawthorne - a lot of people know this as well, but i’m not a huge fan of grayson. and although a lot of the things i felt about him still stand, i did like him a lot more in this book than i did in the other ones. being with lyra must’ve just been really refreshing for him. he was just a lot more open than usual.
gigi grayson - as always i LOVE this girl. she’s so sweet and she genuinely reminds me of myself. (annoying in the best way possible) i’m so interested in where her story is going, especially because of all the new people in this book that she got to meet.
savannah grayson - oh. my. gosh. she’s literally my wife, but at the same time, the part at the end where she says that’s she’s gonna expose avery and the hawthornes for killing her dad was insane. i think she’s in the wrong for that but i’m excited to see where this is going.
rohan - all of the brothers hawthorne i HATED this man. the whole time i was like “who does this guy think he is” but i literally loved him this book, he was so flirty and sassy and it was great.
odette morales - she is my QUEEN she was more iconic than lyra could ever be… im being totally honest. her whole thing with tobias and alice was one of the most crazy things ever and im so excited to see where that goes too.
avery grambs - i have ALWAYS loved this woman, but she was serving even harder than in the other series in this book. the way that she was described was djejenhdehd. this made me even more excited for games untold in november.
jameson hawthorne - my man is always the best and he’s just the best. he’s always so sweet to avery in these books and it brings me joy.
knox - i don’t have any strong feelings about him… but yk excited to see what’s happening with him.
brady - same with knox… there’s a lot of things i’m interested in but i don’t have a lot to say about him.
QUOTES ᯓᡣ𐭩
[ “beside avery, jameson was looking at her like she was the sun and the moon and the stars and eternity, all rolled into one.” ] IM SAT.
[ “at sixteen, lyra had watched and rewatched that interview more times than she wanted to admit.” ] IM CRYING LAUGHING HELP
[ “my symptoms include a tightness in my jaw, increased heart rate, and a desire to use foul language in particularly creative combinations” ] ODETTE MY QUEEN 💋
#jennifer lynn barnes#the grandest game#the inheritance games#grayson hawthorne#jameson hawthorne#avery kylie grambs#lyra kane#nash hawthorne#reader#review
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Hello! Just wanted to say I love all your content but I wanted to ask if you had any advice/tips for running curse of strahd? I'm working on getting ready to run it with some friends/my partner and while I've run a fair amount of homebrew stuff this is my real first attempt at a legit module so I was curious if you could share anything since I believe you also are running/had run that module as well?
Thanks for asking! This is a very fun question!
I have indeed run Curse of Strahd. It was my first foray into long-term DMing and my team and I finished that campaign a little under a year ago. It was awesome, and I'm always excited to talk about it. Curse of Strahd had be a great game if everyone is on the same page!
First of all, I'm gonna say
Having Experience with Homebrew will be a huge boon
When I ran CoS, I followed the actual module about... 60% of the time. It was good... as a baseline/blueprint. But the reality is that I changed up a lot of the details. Either because I didn't like the vibes of the story, or because the plot points were antithetical to my team's goals. I changed up an entire floor of Ravenloft. I threw away a whole storyline for a major NPC because I felt it was too boring.
I think most people who run Curse of Strahd do this, actually. I've heard countless tales of how others Homebrewed their own meat onto the skeleton, and still came out of the campaign with an awesome, Strahd flavored experience. So don't worry about that part.
Here's my advice:
1. Everyone should vibe with what Strahd IS as a game.
Strahd can be a lot of things - you can Homebrew your own motivations into him, or make him a her, or change the history of his castle if need be. But if there's one thing Curse of Strahd is... it is DARK.
The Venn Diagram of Parties Who Understand That Suffering Can Be Fun To Roleplay and Parties Who Had A Good Time Doing CoS is probably a circle. You cannot do this adventure with a group of people who just want to hit monsters a whole bunch. It's an inherently 'oh my god this SUCKS' adventure. That's the main theme. Your players need to be able to enjoy that sort of game, otherwise they will just be miserable.
One of my players, upon arriving in Barovia, immediately said 'I hate it here' and then continued to say it for the rest of the campaign. That is kind of the catchphrase of CoS. Your players need to be comfortable with that sort of bleak horror and overall misery. It makes the end and the potential to finally end Strahd worth it.
That being said, Strahd can also just be... a lot. It has death and torture and psychological horror in there. KIDS DIE. Please discuss this stuff with your table, and remove elements if they guarantee a bad experience for everyone!
(Yes, you can trim down some of the viscera if you need to, that's fine. But keep in mind it will still be tragic. It SHOULD still be tragic. I set some boundaries for myself, but I also killed a whole town in an avalanche. It happened to be the only town my players had grown to like. It was a dick move. It was exactly what you would expect to happen.)
2. Read ahead - A LOT AHEAD.
For a self-contained world, Barovia isn't actually that big. It's a very small map, compared to some that span continents. That means you have the ability to flesh it out, as it were.
To add to that... some areas are... severely underdeveloped plot-wise. Sometimes there are places your players will go where it FEELS like it should link up to another point in the game but it just... doesn't. There is room to expand there. Use your Homebrew skills to connect the dots that the module doesn't!
I greatly recommend taking the time to either read through the whole adventure OR listen through some video-essays. There IS some cool stuff that comes in in the later game that you can grab and put down breadcrumbs for from day one. Or add to your own story twists.
My recommended resource for this is the Curse of Strahd DM's Guide video series.
...and to that end...
3. Start living in Ravenloft Castle WAY before your players get there.
Listen..........listen. look.
Look at this, and suffer as all GMs have suffered.
Castle Ravenloft is unarguably the biggest, stupidest, most architecturally ludicrous hurdle when it comes to GMing CoS. And I am here to tell you - IT IS DOABLE.
You can understand the castle, you can grow comfortable with it. But you need to start early. Hell, I think I began to set up Ravenloft maps before my players even knew it existed. Then I stopped, because I was scared.. but then I went back, and I.... roleplayed SOLO on my off-days! I set up little scenes between Strahd and others and imagined him setting traps, and doing other things. It helped me understand which staircase led to where, and what floors were accessible from which angles.
A part of me actually thinks that there should be a mini GMs-only class where a more experienced Strahd GM takes some time with other GMs to guide them through a map of the castle. A CoS Learning Oneshot, if you will.
There's also a LOT of talented mapmakers that create beautiful, digital CoS maps! Here's one:
Even if you are playing analogue, at a physical table, I greatly encourage you to check it out for reference. The official CoS maps are bleak and a little bit more... rustic? Than they are gothic.
Anyway, in order to avoid talking your ear off, I will end it here.
My last bit of advice is... to have fun!
Yes I know I just said that Strahd is an inherently bad-vibes game. But it's actually GOOD to let your players goof off now and then. Don't be afraid to let them do shenanigans. It builds character, and allows them to regain the energy they need to role-play properly heavy elements later.
My group did a whole bunch of funny stuff. They felt so bad about losing Ireena that when they saw Ismark, instead of explaining themselves to him they cast Darkness and tried to scramble away. There was a running joke that the cleric was too good to know about sex, so they used the euphemism 'play cards' around her, much to everyone's amusement. They got kicked by a walking house once and never forgot nor forgave. And finally, they defeated some Flame Skulls by putting them into a bag of holding.
Anyway, the point is... have fun! I wish you and your party the best of luck. :)
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This is silly, you think.
Talking about goals and ambitions are one thing, but the fact that someone had a headstart and skipped to the future? Now that made your heart tingle.
In the quaint little coffee shop near Miss Marjorie’s antiques and Flora’s flower boutique, your buddies talk about their plans—apparently, someone in your group plans of marrying her beloved high school sweetheart after graduation, and everyone is ecstatic by the news. You are no exception.
But then your closest friend finds your gaze and manages to insert you in the conversation. With a knowing grin, she says, “If their wedding comes, we expect you to have a partner before then! You should have a plus one!”
You laugh at that. You? Having a partner in 4 years? Seems a bit of a stretch, when you’re not looking forward to it at all. You’re worrying about where you’re going once you retrieve your diploma. “Oh, please. Don’t give me that. I believe that it’ll take me more years to finally have a special someone.”
Then, another friend adds, “You’re not suuure. Life works in mysterious ways. What if you suddenly meet them tomorrow? Or the next day? Or the next week?”
A series of squeals and playful smirks are sent through your way and you just roll your eyes, amused. While swirling the remnants of your coffee with a spoon, you blow a raspberry and say, “Yeah, right. As if that’ll happen.” You’ve given up a long time ago, and you’re done with the FOMO phase regarding romantic relationships. Almost everyone in your friend group had lovers, and it lowkey made you envious. But thankfully, as time passed on, you simply moved on with your life to focus on your field.
But little did you know, in the next 5 years, a man with long red hair and subtle gentle maroon eyes will be accompanying you to your friend’s wedding. You will be taken care of, cherished, and loved — everyone will see it, and they will all be delighted once you catch the bouquet that the bride will toss.
And said man is a couple of meters away, about to enter the coffee shop, where your hearts are soon to connect.
Yet you are not aware of this, not yet.
As he lifts his head from his watch, the man with the long red hair and maroon eyes pulls the coffee shop’s glass door open. The bell rings from the movement - signifying a new customer. Then, your curious eyes meet his — and the story begins.
#diluc x reader#butter.spread#hehe#i should stop posting at late nights fr#i live for these kinds of stories hhh#u don’t find love love finds u thing#hskjdkjd#manifesting i get a love like this
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