#or even a body that you objectively think is better than most and are scared of ''''ruining'''' by transitioning

[gibbearish]

Hey, I'm a queer teen, male at birth, and took that trans quiz you made a while ago. I saw the @ at the end and thought to reach out. I'm really confused, I just feel wrong, I don't hate my body it's just like I feel like a girl, I really don't know. Most of my friends probably would support me if I was trans, I mean I already came out as bi, and they didn't care, but I don't feel like I can talk to them about this. I really just don't know. Help?

fixed it for you

[fvckednddistvrbed]

i ate a lot today, not as much as other days, but still im disappointed with myself and starting to feel sick. why cant i be good at restriction? god this makes me wanna sh so fucking bad

[nikxlaii]

➽ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓

☁ Pairing: Zhongli x gn!reader

☁ Category: Angst

☁Synopsis: He excludes you every time he's with her, and now he's living with the consequences of his actions, weighed down by their heavy toll.

☁ Note: It looks better in my head, lmao. I got back into writing after school ended. Still preparing for 12th grade, I'm scared. Good luck reading this. Let me know how it goes. 06/12/2024

Do you not see me?

You stood in the field of glaze lilies, the soft night breeze gently caressing your skin, a sense of isolation surrounded you. The silence was deafening, save for the voices of the divine beings before you, talking as if you were not there. It was as if they were lost in the charms of the evening, indifferent to your presence.

You knew that going with Morax was a foolish decision the moment you realized that the God of Dust, Guizhong, would also be there. You shouldn't have come, you shouldn't have gone. But your heart would not permit you to resist the urge to spend time with the man you've always loved, even though it may not have been the wisest course of action.

Despite the sinking feeling in your stomach, you couldn't let the chance of being with him slip through your fingers. Yet as the night wore on, a seed of doubt had started to take root within you, gnawing at your innermost thoughts. You now wish you had the foresight to realize that accompanying Morax wasn't the most commendable choice.

"Here," Guizhong, with a playful glint in her eye, reached down to pluck one of the glaze lilies dotting the ground, a sweet scent filling the evening air. With a sweet smile, she tucked the lily behind Morax's ear. "How nice it looks on you!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with amusement. Morax's eyes softened at Guizhong's sweet gesture as he smiled softly at her, an expression you'd never seen on his face before. It was clear that only Guizhong could bring that soft smile to Morax's stoic face.

You stood there watching them, a silent observer, as they talked to one another. Even what they're talking about is unknown to you, making you feel like nothing more than a passive object in the room. You bore witness to the way the man you loved gazes at her with yearning and adoration—a glance that you wish was aimed at you instead.

The sight was not one to behold, causing a deep and unrelenting pain to well up within the deepest reaches of your emotional being. It was a peculiar feeling that possessed you. It was as if a sense of resentment towards the goddess gradually seeped into your bones, permeating your very essence.

But how can you hate such an innocent god who has never actively done any harm? In particular to you? Nonetheless, deep down you can't help but wish she'd never come into his life. That he had chosen you instead of her, that it was you in his arms, the object of his desire. Yet you know it's a futile dream, for you two are incompatible, you are the god of war while he is the god of contracts, forever parted by the gulf between your natures.

Guizhong, being the epitome of refinement and grace, captivates all who lay eyes on her. Unlike you, the deity of battles, Guizhong was a wise, compassionate, and intelligent god who never harmed a single soul. Conversely, you nevertheless bore the scars of battle on your body. Your skin stained with blood from countless battles. You see why Morax is so captivated by her—she was everything that you weren't.

"Oh, I think it's best I leave for now. Perhaps we can meet another time?" You force the words past your lips, your voice a mixture of hurt and disappointment. You hug your arms tightly to your chest, waiting for a response from either the two of them, only to realize that they don't seem to care about your presence. They're too caught up in their own world, and you're not a part of it. Maybe it's best to leave them be.

That night marked the end of your presence in their lives. It was then that you knew that it was time to move on. You couldn't change the way things were, nor could you force Morax to love you. As difficult as it was, you had to accept that your relationship with him was not meant to be. So, with a heavy heart, you decided to leave, choosing to cut all ties and put the past behind you. It was the only way to find peace and move forward.

-

In a tragic turn of events, the Archon War raged on with no end in sight. The God of Dust lost her life in a fierce battle over the Guili Plains and perished amidst the Glaze Lilies, leaving behind a sea of sorrow in her wake, particularly for Morax. Imagine his grief when he lost her too. He should have known the impending doom that was about to happen, and maybe, just maybe, he would have saved her too. Everything was a massacre.

Despite the passing years, he never ceased his search for you, holding a faint glimmer of hope that you were still alive. Despite giving up his gnosis, his rulership, and the weight of responsibility that he's borne for millennia, his determination to find you remains steadfast. It's as if he's incapable of letting go of the notion that you're still out there, somewhere, waiting to be discovered. Perhaps the gnosis is now in the hands of the Fatui and has become their possession. He continues to look for you without ceasing.

Despite the selfish intentions behind his actions, he continued to search for you over and over again. He knew that he was to blame for your departure, as his behavior had led you to leave his life forever. Nevertheless, he persisted in trying to find you, driven by the guilt and regret that had filled his heart. He struggled to come to terms with the consequences of his actions, and the sadness that weighed upon him only continued to grow. All he could do was hope that somehow, someway, he could make amends.

But...

Would he ever see you again?

☁ Note: Zhongli, you selfish man, jkjk, I love you. No hate towards Guizhong! I love her so much. She's so cute. Who do you think is at fault here? Of course, me! for creating this.

[ectologia]

Tomura Shigaraki is definitely a disgusting and depraved perv when it comes to kinks and fetishes, it's a known fact. I wanna know your ideas for all the fucked up things he's into, illegal or not ^^

KINKS & FETISHES

TOMURA SHIGARAKI EDITION

CONTENT ♱ IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER, THIS IS EXTREMELY MATURE CONTENT WITH A PLETHORA OF KINKS AND FETISHES (INCLUDING NONCON), COMMON OR NOT, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

ACAROPHILIA (AROUSAL FROM SCRATCHING)

Tomura loves the scratchies, we all know that. Whether he’s sad, anxious, frustrated or horny, you can always catch those blunt fingernails digging at his flesh like a dog in a flower patch. And, unsurprisingly, yours too. He likes the way you shudder as he claws down your skin, catching your nipples as he tears down your tits before watching the thin white lines raise into nasty looking red gashes. He’ll even drag his tongue over them to feel the bumps as he wanks.

ANAL TRAINING

Tomura is a disgusting and malicious man, so it should come as no surprise that one of his favourite past times is to see how wide he can stretch your ass open. He’ll make it into a game, timing you, finding different objects (safe or not) to squeeze up your butt, promising you treats and rewards if you can take having your sphincter stretched another 5 centimetres. And if you don’t think that’s a lot, trust, it is. And it’ll hurt. He’ll make sure of it.

ANONYMOUS SEX

Even evil crime bosses such as Tomura can get insecure too. On those days he’s feeling extremely low about himself, whether it be because a mission was unsuccessful or because his skin’s had a flare up and he can barely look at anyone. He’ll resort to skulking around dingy clubs and alleys. He’s not the biggest fan of glory holes, mainly because he’s scared there’ll be a dude on the other side sucking his cock. But he appreciates that he can be as weird or unattractive as he wants and still bust a fat nut into something other than his fist.

BATHROOM CONTROL

We all know Tomura is a control freak. And it just gets freakier when he starts telling you where and when you can go to the toilet. On most days, he’s tame about it. All he asks of you is that you tell him when your bladder’s full and he’ll give you permission to use his toilet. It’s only until he starts wanting to watch you shit and piss while he jerks himself off does it get a little.. worrying. He just finds it so cute when your little body does what it’s supposed to, and it’s even better when he’s the one that gets to be a bossy boots about it.

BREAST + NIPPLE TORTURE

As mentioned before, Tomura likes scratching your nipples. He’s also an avid enjoyer of slapping, pinching, twisting, stretching, biting, flicking and tickling. Really, there’s no actual explanation. He just enjoys watching you writhe in pain.

BREAST + NIPPLE WORSHIP

Equally, on the flip side. Tomura worships your tits, physically and spiritually. He finds them so beautiful, he reckons they’re his favourite part of your body. Romantic, right? He’ll kiss and hug and squish, juggling them in his palms before sucking one into his mouth while caressing the other. He’ll use them as pillows, resting his head on your chest before slipping away into a restful slumber. Probably to dream of even more titties.

CRUROPHILIA (A KINK RELATED TO LEGS)

Legs, legs, legs. Long legs, skinny legs, chubby legs, muscular legs, legs in tights, legs in thigh highs, shaved or unshaved. Tomura loves legs, he’s obsessed with them to some degree. Just the way he can do so much with them. Fold them against your chest, spread them out wide, throw them over his shoulders, or even bind them tight. He just loves legs.

BONUS

If you’re a fast runner, watch out, because Tomura will be chasing you in circles like you’re a gazelle in the savanna. He gets off to it, hardcore.

CUMSHOTS

Tomura will find any excuse to make something into a game. Give him something to aim at and he’ll be shooting semen at you like it’s an FPS. His favourite thing to spunk on is your clit, since it’s such a tiny target he feels almost accomplished when he manages to spit the creamy white liquid right on the little bud. (Before getting to lick it off)

FACE FUCKING

Who doesn’t love a nice, rough face fuck? Tomura definitely does. Tomura treats all your holes like sex toys, and your mouth is just another. He’s a hard, deep and fast fuck, using your hair like reins as he shovels his length all the way down your throat and back up again. He’s like a greyhound, once he starts he can’t stop. So what if you just threw up on his dick? He’s not done until he’s done.

FACE SITTING

Not in the way you think. He’s the one doing the sitting ‘round here darling. He’ll use it as a punishment, squatting over your face with his filthy asshole puckering and scrunching over your lips, Oh, what, you think it’s gross? Good. You better get used to the view of his hairy ass crack, baby, because you’re gonna’ be here a while.

FOOT FETISH

Perhaps the most common and well known of Shiggy’s fetishes, he’s a feet connoisseur. Manicured toes, soft soles and high heels are what he dreams of at night. Pumping his dick between a pretty girl’s smooth arches, legs bent with her steaming hot pink pussy nestled right between them? Hell yeah. He’ll alternate between worshiping your feet and having you worship his. He sucks your toes, you suck his back. It’s a 50/50 relationship.

BONUS

Though Tomura’s obsession is mainly sexual, he’ll massage your feet as an act of service purely because it’s his love language.

MACROGENITALISM

Some men like the pretty, pink pristine vulvas, the hairless ones with barely-there, tucked away labias and tiny clits you can barely get at. Some men aren’t Tomura. He wants it hairy, messy and sloppy. He wants to nestle his face between your bush and suffocate himself with the coarse hairs, he wants to gnaw and pull on your beautiful labia with his teeth and lick through every fold and crevice like he’s an explorer. He likes the women with big, gorgeous clits and fat, chunky cunts, and he won’t have anything less.

NONCON

He likes the way you scream and plead. How your guttural wails and ear piercing shrieks dull and splinter into pitiful whimpers. How your eyes mist into glassy, shiny goggles the moment he pulls the sluggish length of his manhood out and slaps it up and down on your tiny, twitchy clit. Back hunched as he places a boney finger to his lips, shushing and cooing at you as you heave through grit teeth when he splits into your folds. His big, bulbous cock head juts in and out with a slick pop as he pummels you into a shakey, traumatised little mess, pumping you full with his seed, wether you want it in your little womb or not.

PEODEIKTOPHILIA (PENIS FLASHING)

Though it sounds sinister, Tomura finds it positively hilarious. He likes to see that momentary, adorably shocked, deer-in-headlights look on your face when he drops his waistband for just a second, giving you an eyeful of his big, floppy cock and balls. Whether you’re on your own or with people, outside or inside. He’s incredibly sneaky and an all around menace. Walking past while you’re tucked into bed? He’ll wipe his clammy dick on your face along the way. Having a conversation with someone? He’ll slip his squishy pink head out of his boxers and thumb the slit with a cheeky grin. Brushing your teeth? He’ll chase you around the bathroom with his balls hanging out. Just know, he does it because he loves you. You’re his best friend.

QUIROFILIA (HAND FETISH)

Tomura likes pretty hands. Long, lithe fingers with manicured nails and soft knuckles. A stark contrast to his huge, calloused and, not to mention, destructive ones. He’ll kiss and caress the delicate appendages before demanding you wrap them around his cock, stacked atop one another as you stroke his prick up and down, foreskin clicking stickily as his balls jiggle against his thighs until he inevitably climaxes, coating your sweet fingers in the syrupy substance of his love.

SOMNOPHILIA (ENGAGING IN SEXUAL ACTIVITY WITH SOMEBODY THAT IS ASLEEP OR UNCONSCIOUS)

It can be for various reasons, the main one being you’re too tired to deal with him, so he just takes matters into his own hands. He’ll spread your pussy and eat it from the back as much as it takes until he can slip inside you nice and easy. Bouncing your unconscious self against the mattress with his dick nestled tightly inside your syrupy walls, while you stay tucked into bed all cosy and warm. See? It’s a win win situation.

WATERSPORTS

Similar to Tomura’s “bathroom control” kink, Tomura just really likes piss. Wether you’re squirting in his mouth after getting finger banged within an inch of your life, or you’re on your knees with your tongue out waiting for him to give you a hot, steamy golden shower, he really doesn’t care. As long as at least one of you are drenched in piss by the end of it.

A TOTAL OF 17 KINKS THAT I COULD THINK OF (BUT I’M SURE THERE’S MORE)

[yesimwriting]

Study Break

a/n halloween drabble <333 i wrote this while kind of sad so if it's bad that's why <3

Summary: Final-girl verse fic!! You want to catch up on homework before Halloween, unfortunately your best friends have other plans

----

Whoever decided to make October one of the most academically crucial months of the year was definitely not a teenage girl.

You sigh, attention shifting away from your textbook and towards the fabric hanging on your closet's door handle. The dress, a pale pink thing that you'll definitely regret wearing the second the late-fall chill settles over the night, is the main part of your costume. A costume the world may never see if you don't finish studying for your history test.

The thought of the totally unacceptable brings you back to reality. You turn your head, forcing yourself to reread a passage on the Treaty of Paris.

After familiarizing yourself with some familiar names, you pick up an orange highlighter--which is the closest you've come to being seasonally festive--as your study mix CD begins to play a new song. The soft notes that make up the intro are cut off by a sharp click.

It's not horrifying, but you can feel your back straighten out of instinct. Your back presses into your desk's chair. You turn your head slowly.

The door to your bedroom is open, but there's nothing to be scared of in the doorway. "Guys."

Stu grins at the recognition. "Your mom let us in." He moves his hand away from your CD player before letting his arm fall to his side. "We wanted to scare you."

Despite knowing better, you let the corner of your mouth pull itself upwards. "Well then I'm completely terrified."

"Good." Stu steps further into your room, approaching your dresser. He picks up a tube of lip gloss you keep forgetting to reunite with the rest of your makeup. "Festive." He twists the tube's lid--back and forth, almost fully off and almost fully on. "Now let's keep that up and go."

You blink. Stu's sudden shifts don't surprise you as much as they used to, but you still haven't figured out how to keep up. "Go?"

Billy straightens, his body shifting away from the doorway. "The movie theatre's playing the first Halloween."

Oh. It's the kind of thing you'd usually love to be invited to. "It sounds fun," you keep your voice light, doing your best to keep your tone enthusiastic enough to convey that you do want to go without coming off as overly chipper, "But there's this history test on Friday."

Stu stills, his fingers pausing against the lipgloss tube. You tap your nails against your knee. There's objectively nothing wrong with what you've said--the three of you didn't have any pre-established plans and they didn't even call ahead to ask if you were free. But saying 'no' to them almost always makes something in your stomach knot. It's not guilt exactly, but it's an uneasy enough feeling that you do your best to avoid it.

"Yeah, your mom mentioned something." Billy steps forward.

You frown at the thought of your mom making you sound a lot lamer than you really are. You're too old to be embarrassed by your study habits, but it doesn't mean you need them advertised. "Yeah?"

"She said to see if we have better luck pulling your head out of that textbook than she did." For a second, you think Billy might be smiling, but he turns his head too quickly for you to be sure. You narrow your eyes at him as he approaches your CD player. He presses play, letting the next song on your CD finally start.

An uncomfortable warmth begins to crawl up your neck. "I..." You busy yourself with placing the cap back onto your highlighter. "I have a schedule."

Stu walks towards your bed. He sits down with a much too heavy sigh. "You always have a schedule."

"Not true."

Your defense is immediately countered, "Kind of true."

You twist in your seat, neck craning in an attempt to look at Billy. He briefly holds your stare before letting his chin dip downwards, his eyes focusing on your floor. "You guys are being dramatic, I just want to do good on this one test."

"Come on." Stu's pulled your fluffy pillow onto his lap. "You study more than anyone I know." He drags his nails against the pillow, flattening tufts of synthetic hair. "You're gonna be fine."

With a sigh, you turn your attention back to your open textbook. You have been reviewing the first few units for days now... "I just..." You don't know how to make it make sense. You know that you study and that you try and that realistically you're not going to permanently damage your GPA, but it's not easy to let go of. "Worry, I guess."

Stu lifts his head. "Then you need someone to distract you." He combs his fingers through the pillow's fluff. "You don't want to end up like Jack."

It only takes you a second to realize that he's talking about the Shining. You fight against a smile, pressing your lips together in an attempt to seem neutral. "Pretty sure he had other things going on."

"Actually," Billy starts, "I think in the original draft it was a history test that drove him crazy."

"Very funny." With a sigh, you push your seat back, moving to stand, "Let's play it safe and not risk it."

Stu grins, moving your pillow off of your lap before standing. He's next to you before you can even think to step away from your desk. "You should always listen to us, babe." He places a hand on your shoulder. "We know best."

You roll your eyes at the comment, but let him guide you forward anyway. "Don't start."

"Ignore him." Billy pauses your music before stepping towards the door. "He bought Halloween candy today and he's already had more than half the bag."

You're not surprised. "Makes sense."

Something sharp presses into your shoulder--the pressure just pointed enough to be noticeable. Did he just--"Stu!" You turn your head towards Billy. "He pinched me."

Billy turns just enough to glare at Stu. "Really?"

"She's being dramatic." As if to prove his point, Stu makes a show of smoothing his hand against your shoulder. "And you can't let her get away with everything just because she's pretty."

You're used to Stu's compliments, but this one was sudden and indirect enough to take you by surprise. You're too distracted by the warmth crawling up your neck to say anything.

[lauraneedstochill]

The object of my desires

summary: You overhear Aemond making a snarky remark about the way you dress. You decide to teach him a lesson. warnings: friends to lovers (both are idiots), a dash of angst, a lot of teasing, things get very heated (NSFW), with a sprinkle of softness. words: ~6500 (it was supposed to be shorter but they started making out...) author’s note: the idea first popped into my head months ago when I saw this post. also, for the longest time I’ve been thinking that “you are the bane of my existence” monologue is a perfect fit for Aemond — and yet I haven’t seen a single fic* using that quote?! so I finally decided to give it a try.

If anyone asked you to describe your relationship with Aemond, you would’ve said that the two of you were almost friendly. The almost part was the trickiest one to explain because, even though both of you acted very content with the way of things, you still couldn’t help but think that you wanted something more, no matter how much you’ve tried to deny it.

You got to know him through Helaena who you befriended when you were ten and six. A year older than you, she was the weird girl no one wanted to talk to and you approached her out of curiosity but soon learned that she had a cheerful nature and quite a nimble mind. She loved your sharp sense of humor and energetic wit and the two of you became close, your contrasting personalities complimenting each other very well.

Your introduction to her brothers was brief and for a couple of months, you didn’t interact with either of them. She’s been married to Aegon for four years back then and even though he immediately didn’t strike you as a faithful husband — always a cup away from being wasted and shamelessly gazing at every maid’s legs — he mostly looked harmless. Aemond, however, was the exact opposite — guarded and collected, he kept his distance from everyone, making it clear that it was his choice. You could only get a good look at the prince when you were passing the training yard, and a couple of times you found your gaze lingering on him — on the lean body and tense muscles, on the way he moved the sword with ease. In those moments you felt the danger radiating off him, yet it never scared you away. But you knew better than to fawn over the prince who seemingly paid you no mind.

A significant change came on the evening of Aegon’s ten and ninth birthday which Helaena begged you to come to — you weren’t fond of big events but couldn’t say no to her. For the most part, the feast was tolerable as you’ve spent it by her side, making glib remarks about the guests, much to your friend’s amusement. But when the celebration died down and all the nobles began to disperse, Aegon, drunk out of his mind, decided to make advances toward his wife whom he ignored for the duration of the evening. His approach was harsh and unexpected, and the look on Helaena’s face shuttered your heart. 

“Your grace, your manners escape you,” you tried warning him, shielding your friend but Aegon was too wasted to notice your fiery gaze. In his inebriated state, he probably mistook you for a maid as he grabbed your arm in an effort to shove you aside. Next thing you know, your fist connected with his nose — and then Aegon was lying on the floor, eyes wide and blood gushing down his face as you stood next to him, fuming. Before he could think of an answer, Aemond appeared out of nowhere — just in time to drag his brother away, while the drunkard was hurling insults at you in a frenzy. Only when they left, it dawned on you what you just did. 

You expected for the king’s guard to come for your head in the morrow, but instead, a few surprising things happened. First, you learned that the boys didn’t rat you out, making it look like they were the ones who got into a fight. Aegon did apologize to Helaena and from that day, his temper softened as he never dared to repeat his mistake. But, most importantly, Aemond took a sudden interest in you.

Overall, his behavior stayed the same, but you regularly caught him looking in your direction, and every time you saw each other, he made sure to acknowledge your presence. He never initiated the conversation first, only sometimes curtly voicing his opinion, yet you noticed him paying attention to your chattering with Helaena — and you could swear that a few times he suppressed a laugh at your jokes.

The mystery veil that the prince was surrounded with sparked your curiosity, and you wanted to crack down his guard, to get a chance to know him. The opportunity presented itself one day when Helaena and you came to watch Aemond train. You saw him and Criston arguing as the prince was late to his studies but Cole refused to let Aemond leave until he wins the last bout. Whether he wasn’t in the right mood or had something distracting him, Aemond kept losing, and his teacher only pushed him further, relentless in his attempts.

“Ser Criston, you’re putting yourself in harm’s way,” you chimed in, making the man turn to you with a chuckle, while Aemond gave you a tired look.

“May it be that the finest swordsman of the realm is simply avoiding his responsibilities?” you suggested with a light grin.

“Mayhaps he is in need of some encouragement,” Cole teased. 

“Well, I would’ve volunteered to share the burden of learning with him,” you remark. “If only he could win this one bout,” you added, keeping eye contact with the prince.

It took Aemond about two minutes to knock his opponent to the ground which made Helaena gasp in surprise while you were trying to hide a smile. Without a word, Aemond came to you, and the two of you went to the library. On your way there, he kept silent, but you were not intimidated at all. When you walked into the room, Aemond hesitated as if giving you a chance to change your mind. But you boldly turned to him:

“If you mean to scare me with the prospect of studying, I should warn you that I’ve read more books than you can count,” you informed the prince.

It was the first time when you saw him smiling — widely and shamelessly, looking very smug.

“You are full of surprises, my lady,” he grinned. “Do you mean to challenge me?”

It turned out that Aemond liked challenges, and you enjoyed being one. Since that day, you got into the habit of joining him in the library and the prince would accompany you in his free time more often than not. You would dare him to read faster, to fight harder, to engage in conversations — or sometimes to simply have fun. Whenever you had a reason to disagree with him, he was always respectful and found himself entertained by your way of thinking, which made your discussions and even arguments span for hours.

As years went by, you kept playfully bantering back and forth, and Helaena told you that you were the only one allowed to act like that around her brother. You couldn’t understand what his motives were but it was hard to deny that his company was pleasant. Aemond grew up into quite an eligible bachelor and his attention did flatter you, even though he never crossed the line. Sometimes you even dared to entertain the thought that maybe — just maybe — Aemond had a soft spot for you.

Until one day things took a turn. Helaena’s twentieth birthday was meant to be just another celebration that you would’ve skipped if it wasn’t for her. The only way for you to pass the time was dancing which you’ve actually come to love in recent years, enjoying the rhythm of the music that helped to lighten your mood. Your dear friend mostly preferred to sit back so you were often compelled to find yourself a company that would be bearable, at the very least. That evening, you got acquainted with Jacaerys Velaryon, the boy being younger than you but almost a foot taller. He approached you with a small smile on the pretext of knowing Helaena, and you soon learned that he was a good dancer. But the best thing about Jace was that he spend most of his time talking about his betrothed, Baela, who he was absolutely smitten with. The girl sadly couldn’t be present as she had to stay with her dad, who recently sailed home, and the dark-haired boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut. All the time while dancing he was either gushing about her or asking your advice, which you found adorable and gladly chatted with him.

Throughout the feast, you felt Aemond looking at you, probably more than usual. You knew that he wasn’t fond of dancing and even though his gaze on you felt rather good, deep down you wished that he was the one you were spending time with. After a couple of hours, however, you saw his usual spot empty, and the prince was nowhere to be found. For some reason, you got a very bad feeling and, after leaving Jace to take a break, you went to Helaena. She informed you that Aemond left not so long ago, adding that it looked like her brother was upset about something.

That’s how you ended up roaming through the castle halls, giving in to the unsettling feeling churning in your stomach. Passing by one of the chambers, you suddenly hear voices and realize that it's Aemond talking to his brother. You don’t mean to eavesdrop and were about to turn around — but then Aegon mentions your name.

“You are foolish to wait for so long. You could’ve at least asked Y/N for a dance,” his remark is followed by gulping sounds. Is he ever without a cup? You hold back a giggle — which quickly disappears when you hear Aemond’s answer.

“I prefer not to waste my time on such futile activities,” and his voice is unexpectedly grim.

“You may want to reconsider when the lady has every man’s attention. Even the Strong boy was pretty much drooling,” he chuckles, and his words make your brows furrow as you are certain he has no ground to suggest that. You’re a moment away from drowning in doubts, but the younger prince brings you back to reality.

“I suppose it’s hard not to, with the way she’s been dressing lately,” Aemond deadpans.

He says it with a flat tone — yet it feels like a punch that knocks all of the air out of your lungs. There’s a brief pause — and Aegon sounds almost sober when he asks, with a hint of surprise in his voice.

“And what about her dresses?”

“I found them to be... rather bawdy. Although I’m not impressed in the slightest,” Aemond forces out.

Your heart sinks at his words, cheeks heating up. You wait for him to say anything else, to give an explanation, at least one reason for his accusations but there is none. Aegon laughs — and you feel sick to your stomach, realizing that you cannot bear listening to their conversation any longer.

You walk away as quietly as possible, with cotton feet and your hands shaking. You rush past the hall and out of the castle, tears pricking in your eyes. Only once you are all alone, embraced by the silence of the night, you take a deep breath of air. Aemond’s words are ringing in your ears, loud and clear. You look down at your dress in disbelief: the neckline is basically non-existent, your arms are fully covered, and it barely shows any skin at all. And yet he thinks this is inappropriate? 

Your cheeks are wet and burning yet you feel anger bubbling in your chest. You never thought Aemond could be cruel — and yet it’s him, out of all people, who let those vile words slip out of his mouth like they meant nothing. Like you meant nothing to him. For years, you heard people calling him cold-hearted and arrogant but you were naive to believe that the prince made an exception for you. Out of all the mistakes you’ve made so far, this one might’ve been the most painful one.

Your outrage spreads like a wildfire as you think back to every interaction you’ve had with Aemond, his every glance and every word that fooled you into thinking that he cared. Was he secretly criticizing you the whole time? How many other jokes did he make behind your back? Who even gave him the right to judge whether your dresses are acceptable or not? As if he is any different from all the other men whose brains turn into mush when they get a glimpse of a female body.

You stop dead in your tracks when an idea suddenly forms in your head. It’s very uncharacteristic of you — at first, you hesitantly brush it off, thinking that it’s not wise to make any emotional decisions. And yet the idea keeps nagging at you for the remainder of the night and for a few hours you ponder if you should take such a brazen approach. But then his unkind remark pops back in your memory — over and over and over.

By the time the morning comes, you make up your mind.

He says he isn’t impressed in the slightest? There is only one way to find out for sure. On the very next day, you take Helaena for a walk in the garden, well aware that her brothers will accompany you as Aegon doesn’t have anything else to do and Aemond prefers to take a stroll after his training. Your dress is close-fitted yet modest, not an inch shorter than necessary. It is not about the dress but what’s underneath it — and the object in question clinks lightly with your every step. You show it to Helaena right away and she finds it delightful, the jingling only making her smile. Then her siblings come to join you, you curtsy but barely spare Aemond a glance. You don’t ask a single question about his day, instead taking interest in Aegon. The older prince gives you a suspicious side-eye but welcomes the chatting. It doesn’t take long before he notices the sound, too.

“Am I the only one who can hear the clinking? I am almost certain that it’s not just in my head,” he debates.

“Oh, it’s Y/N’s doing,” Helaena beams unsuspectingly.

“Apologies, my prince, it’s my aunt’s gift that caught your ear,” you slow down and take a few seconds to make sure you’ve got everyone’s attention.

And then, with one gentle motion, you pull up your dress — ever so slightly, just enough to show your ankle and the thin bracelet wrapped around it. The jewelry is made out of gold and it instantly catches the sunlight, casting warm sparkles on your skin. It’s decorated with tiny coins which make a jingling sound as you slowly turn your leg from side to side.

“I thought it was rather pretty. Don’t you think?” you only look at Aegon.

“Umm yes,” he gulps. “Rather pretty it is,” the prince mumbles, and then his gaze shifts to someone else. You don’t need to turn your head to know who he’s looking at. Instead, you continue with your walk without a care in the world.

“I should ask my aunt to bring you a similar one, my dear,” you suggest to Helaena and she eagerly agrees.

You have a few other gifts for Aemond, too. Next time you opt for a different bracelet — with no coins and no jingling, a simple golden chain. But your dress is a tad bit shorter and the jewelry catches everyone’s eye with ease as it looks like a ray of light curled around your ankle. You deliberately walk through the training yard, arm-in-arm with Helaena. You give Ser Christon the brightest smile, and he politely nods in your direction.

“Good morrow, ladies.”

“How’s your training coming along, Ser Criston?” you ask, and it feels strange to talk to him instead of Aemond. You bitterly remind yourself that you apparently overstated the value of those conversations.

“I’m afraid, we are hardly progressing. Mayhaps you will keep us company? I fear, we are in need of some cheerful words,” Cole shoots a glance at the prince who stands by, his eye fixed on you.

“Aren’t we all, Ser Criston,” you tilt your head at him. “But it seems like my pursuit of lessening your burden did nothing good,” and before he can ask anything else, you walk away, ignoring Aemond completely.

Helaena senses that something is off, giving you a worried look.

“Is there anything troubling you?”

“Not when I’m with you, my friend,” you reassure her and force your smile to look as believable as possible.

Partially, it is true as her company always brings you joy and you don’t want to sour her mood by recalling Aemond’s words that wounded your pride. You refuse to admit that he also grazed your heart. In a week, you accept Helaena’s invitation to join them for breakfast and you decide to up your game. It’s the perfect time of year for sleeveless dresses but the one you pick also has a daring addition: two thin cuts under your armpits. They are barely visible but when you put your arms up, it’s easy to distinguish the contour of your ribcage and the softness of your skin peeking through. You sit by Helaena’s side, easily keeping up with the conversation and not glancing at Aemond once. After the food is taken away and everyone starts wandering around the room, you get up to fix your hair, standing not too far away from the dining table as you raise your hands and run your fingers into your hairdo.

“May I offer assistance?” Aegon leans on the wall next to you, his mouth curling into a smile.

You roll your eyes and are about to shush him when he quietly adds:

“I know what you are doing,” you turn your gaze to him, and he winks at you. “From the look on my brother’s face, I can tell you that it’s working.”

You fight the urge to look at Aemond.

“I’m afraid I can’t share your concerns,” you are fiddling with hairpins absentmindedly.

Aegon shoots a glance over your shoulder and then back at you.

“He seems pretty bothered to me. Also pissed, but that may be my doing.”

“Look at you, my little helper,” you ramble as the cool air sneaks into the cuts of your dress, and you slightly quaver.

“Well, if you are ever in need of a helping hand...”

“I will not hesitate to stick this pin into your eye,” you cut him off.

“No need!” Aegon throws up his hands, cackling. “I’d like to keep them both. So I can have a better look at my brother’s reaction when you do... whatever you plan on doing,” the shit-eating grin on his face tells you that he is enjoying this.

But when you turn around and suddenly make eye contact with Aemond, your own enjoyment fades. You notice his frown and the probability of you being the reason for it doesn’t bring any satisfaction. You let Helaena lead you away, feeling his gaze on your back as you walk out. You do not yield to your emotions, continuing with your plan, as days turn into weeks, and then a month goes by without you as much as sharing a word with Aemond. Truth be told, you want nothing more than to stay away from him at all costs but you will not give him the satisfaction. He said he didn’t like the way you dress — and you make sure he sees every single dress you are in. You stay within the bounds of decency as you definitely have no intention to disgrace yourself, and none of your dresses are borderline scandalous, contrary to what any prince may think. You deign to let him see the curve of your neck with your hair up high, the bending of your shoulders and the sunkissed skin of your arms, the arc of your knees and mere glimpses of the upper part of your legs. You leave the rest to his imagination — granted, he has a good one considering how much time he spends reading.

During the second month, his patience starts running out.

In the years you’ve known Helaena, you learned all the ins and outs of the castle, so you manage to avoid Aemond at first, vanishing from his sight when needed. But, as time passes, you notice that he is tempted to talk to you, and escaping that possibility becomes harder with each day. One morning, when you walk into the yard, Aemond abruptly stops his training upon seeing you, and the two of you just stare at each other for a second, both startled and holding your breath. You are saved by Ser Criston, who calls for the prince, distracting him, giving you a chance to leave, and you all but run away.

After that day, you temporarily cease your visits to the castle, deciding to take a break and make up weak excuses to Helaena. Only now that you were apart, you realize how much you miss Aemond’s physical presence. His sudden, fleeting touches — to help you out of a carriage or to steady you after a fit of laughter, your hands brushing when you share books, his fingers sometimes lightly grazing your waist for the reason you are yet to know. You haven't talked to him for days, let alone felt him in your close proximity, and yet he's constantly on your mind. Somewhere in the midst of it all, you wake up at night realizing you yearn for him terribly. You wish you could go back to that damn evening of the feast, to confront him right away, to maybe get some clarification. But now too much time has passed and you’re too wrapped up in... whatever you plan on doing, so your ego insists that giving up isn’t an option.

When you receive the invitation for Aegon’s name day, you are ready to decline, but then begrudgingly decide to give it one last chance. You practice the look of indifference, the nonchalant tone, the proud gait, and you pull out your best dress. It’s green and the color is so bright, it dazzles the eyes, the material light and flowing — and yet, when you put it on, it feels incomplete. As you look in the mirror, the vivid tone of the fabric suddenly reminds you of something else. It’s a secret you once heard, a hushed conversation between the maids, one of which walked in on the prince when he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. You only ponder for a minute and then reach for the jewelry piece that definitely will be hard not to notice. The castle is crowded, and you are one of the last guests to arrive. Bracing yourself, you pause at the door for a second. Ser Harrold, who stands there, lets out a surprised hum. “Should I take that as a sign of your disapproval?” you jest, watching his reaction.

“I wouldn’t dare to judge,'” he gives you a polite smile. “But I’m afraid all the men present are at risk of losing reason.”

His comment makes you chuckle and you step a bit closer, letting him take a better look.

“I thought it would match the occasion. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Ser Harrold, gods bless him, keeps his eyes on your face. “As always, it is, lady Y/N.”

It gives you enough confidence to walk in, appearing in all your glory.

The dress is a perfect fit, with a slit down your right side and an open back. The front neckline isn't deep but in the middle of it there’s a thin silver chain with a big, glittering sapphire — and the gem lays perfectly between your breasts. It’s only natural that everyone’s gaze is immediately drawn to the blue spark, all the men in the room gazing at it, voluntarily and not. But the effect their attention has is nothing compared to the wave of heat that warms your body when you feel a very particular gaze finally landing on you. You look right at him — and you catch him gawking, his lips slightly parted as he stares at the sapphire, too, almost in a trance. His hand is gripping a cup of wine with such force, you can see the whitening of his knuckles. When Aemond sharply glances up, your eyes lock for a second, and you look away first. So much for him not being impressed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jace waving at you to come sit with him, and you do not hesitate, letting the one-eyed prince out of sight.

You feel like his eye doesn’t leave you for a second.

You are barely able to sit still while dining and let out a sigh of relief when it’s time for dancing. You rush away from the table, thinking it will provide you with a distraction, and you will be glad for any partner if only he can move his legs and keep his mouth shut. You go to the end of the line, lost in your thoughts, and when you finally come to a stop and look to the other side — you see Aemond standing in front of you.

The tall prince with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing all black, stares at you in a way that makes the crowd around you disappear.

When the dance starts, you step toward each other, and he speaks up first. 

“I couldn’t help but notice your absence. I find myself wondering what is the reason behind it,” his hand briefly touches yours, your bodies following the music.

“Your question is confusing, my prince. As I was merely doing you a favor,” you swap partners but Aemond only looks at you.

“Your leaving hardly favors me,” the prince says when you’re in his arms again. You feel a flicker of anger rising inside but keep your voice down.

“I was actually counting on you being relieved,” you snort, not looking at him. “Since, as it turned out, you were so displeased with my bawdy dresses,” with these words, you step away from him once more.

A minute later you come back to his side but don’t let him say a thing. 

“I’ve always thought bawdy was just another word for a whore. So I suppose I should be glad that you at least had some decency to not stoop so low,” when your eyes meet, you think you’ve never seen him so hurt.

Before he can come up with an answer, you are out of his reach. Then you circle back to Aemond again, and this time your tone comes out hasher.

“I also wonder if you would be so brave to say all that to my face. But it seems that your bravery falters when confronted with the need to speak plainly.”

The rhythm of the music works in your favor, because whenever Aemond tries opening his mouth, you’re swooped away from him, and it gives you time to tighten your self-control. You think you should resent him for his silly words, for his heavy gaze, for him knowing how to dance even though he never once did that with you in all these years.

But you have no resentment for him. All of a sudden you realize what you are actually feeling.

And then the dance comes to an end.

You only curtsy out of politeness, averting your gaze.

“I will not vex you anymore, my prince.”

“Wait, I should —,” he tries to take your hand but you swerve away from him.

“I already promised the next dance to someone else,” you lie. “You are finally free of my company.”

At that very second, when you glance at him before leaving, he looks absolutely heartbroken. Or maybe you just imagined it in an attempt to ease your own pain. Your feet carry you to the library on their own accord, and you’re too distraught to notice until you are already inside, in the dusty silence of the endless shelves. You take a hold of the nearest one, trying to catch your breath. You barely get a minute of solitude before you hear footsteps approaching. And it’s kind of pathetic how easy it is for you to guess who it is. “Your tendency to run away from me is quite unnerving,” Aemond walks in with rapid strides, his voice laced with emotion you can’t read. 

His words, however, trigger your reaction in no time. 

“Maybe it is because I do not want to be in the company of someone who hurt me,” you turn to him, and he’s already only a couple of feet away. The dim lighting illuminates his silver hair, the outline of his broad shoulders, his eye is boring into you. He looks so beautiful in his frustration, your chest tightens at the sight.

“I would’ve apologized right away if only you let me speak,” the prince retorts.

“Did something hold you back from apologizing sooner? Or were you too preoccupied with being outraged by my clothing choices?” your heart skips a bit at the intensity of his stare but you refuse to break the eye contact.

“I never said I was outraged.” 

“You weren’t thrilled, either, you made that very clear.”

“You know nothing of my motives because you refuse to listen to me!” he raises his voice and it startles you. But he doesn’t sound angry.

Aemond is standing at arm’s length — and you can clearly see that his face expresses no signs of annoyance or hatred. Instead, he looks at you with longing.

The air in the room feels heavy.

You run your tongue over your lips to moisten them, and Aemond’s eye darts to your mouth.

“We can agree on one thing,” he drawls, his eye locking with yours again as he moves closer. You take a step back — and feel pressed against one of the shelves.

He speaks with his tone low:

“...You vex me to no end.”

With another step, Aemond towers over you, and when you look up, your faces are only inches apart, and his flaming gaze envelops you.

“You are the bane of my existence,” Aemond breathes out. “And the object of all my desires,” his voice breaks, and you feel him inhaling sharply.

His words are akin to a match that lights up a fire deep in you, the muscles of your stomach tightening involuntarily. With one finger he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you can’t help but lean into his touch, your breathing shuddering.

“I’m haunted by your image everywhere I go,” he rasps, his nose brushing yours. “Night and day, I dream of you,” his index finger moves under your chin, close to the pulsating point on your neck. You feel the heat spilling into the pit of your belly, and you want nothing more than for Aemond to kiss you.

“I was raised to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread every minute I spend in your presence,” he whispers vehemently, his words hot against your mouth. 

You are dizzy, breathless — and craving him. Everything else is forgotten, erased, nonexistent. It’s just you two.

“You are all I can think about,” you confess with a strangled voice, looking at Aemond through your lashes — and it sets him off.

His lips capture yours in an instant, claiming and burning with need. He pulls you closer, his hands on your back, and yours go up his shoulders to lock behind his neck. Aemond kisses you deeply, hungrily, sweeping his tongue over your lower lip and then sliding it in, intertwining with yours. One of his palms moves lower, outlining the curve of your hip, glides over your leg — and into the slit of your dress. He grabs your thigh, his thumb landing on the inner side of it, and he starts slowly massaging small circles on it. Him touching your bare skin elicits a moan from you and in the heat of the moment, as your mind goes blank and you can only focus on the pleasuring sensation, you spread your legs, and his finger slips higher — to the place where you want him the most.

He breaks the kiss in surprise, and you wait for it to dawn on him. To realize that you are, in fact, completely naked under the dress. You can feel arousal pooling between your legs, your body prickling with anticipation.

“I was under the impression that you owe me an apology,” you unabashedly murmur, looking him straight in the eye. 

You don’t know if it’s a challenge or a plea — at this point, you do not care. Apparently, neither does Aemond, as he takes no time hoisting your leg up to his waist for better access, firmly holding it in place. Your respite barely lasts a few seconds before you feel his other hand cupping your sex, rubbing his fingers through your folds. You shut your eyes, gasping for air, as he unhurriedly smears your wetness — and then his finger dips into your core, the sensation making you shiver.

“Aemond,” you sign, your body trembling with desire.

Trying to inhale, you get a whiff of aroma, a mix of leather and salty ocean breeze — and all at once, you are surrounded by him. His scent, his warmth, his scorching touches, the taste that’s left on your lips. He leaks into your every cell.

Aemond nuzzles into the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses there, his finger picking up the pace.

“I’ve missed you,” he avows. “So fucking much,” he lightly nibbles the skin above your collarbone. “Missed hearing you say my name. Say it again.”

He doesn’t need to ask twice — and the interweaving of letters rolls off your tongue with each breath:

“Aemond”

“Aemond”

“Aemond.”

His name fills your mouth, leaving no space for air, your throat tight and breathing rapid. Aemond’s lips move down to your shoulder.

“Oh, the things I want to do to you,” he haltingly rambles, and the implication makes you clench around him, dragging a low groan from the prince.

He leaves a trail of kisses following the silver chain down to your breasts. The gem feels cold in contrast to your skin, and even though your head is clouded with lust, it triggers a memory. You move one of your shaking hands to his face, guiding it up to look at you again.

“I want to see the real thing,” you whisper, gazing at his eyepatch. “Let me. Please, let me.”

His hand between your legs doesn’t stop its movement but the one on your thigh trembles. You are too caught up in the moment to think straight, and before he can answer, your fingers roughly remove the leather patch.

The sapphire glows like a beacon, the cold blue of it is dazzling and piercing through your blurred vision. The tones and shadows are interlacing, cyan melting into azure and dark blue, and it’s mesmerizing. Seeing him like this, stripped of his restrain and his disguise, is the most intimate, precious thing in the world.

“Gods, you are divine,” you moan, panting.

You catch a flash of emotion in his eye — before you can take another breath, his lips are on yours again. This kiss is steady and fervent, and while his mouth melts into yours, Aemond adds a second finger. It slides in with ease, and he builds up the speed that makes you swallow air. He’s terrifyingly good with his fingers, with his every move, precise and fast. 

“Aemond,” you whimper in his mouth, but his lips keep chasing yours, and you can only follow, letting him take your breath away again and again. You lose track of time, lose yourself in his arms. His face is always close to yours, he breathes in every moan you make and keeps his gaze on you, watching you squirm, your cheeks flushed and lips quivering.

You helplessly whisper his name, and it comes out as a prayer, the coil in your stomach ready to snap. Aemond gives you a breathless smile.

“You do not need to beg me, ever,” he says in a husky voice. “I will give you anything you want,” with these words, he presses a thumb on your pearl, resuming the well-known circling motion, making you choke on air.

It takes merely a few seconds for you to come undone, the wave of pleasure blinding and crushing over you. His lips are at the corner of your mouth, ready to cover it should you make any loud sound, but you drop your head back, mouth falling slack in a silent cry.

His fingers slow the pace until you let out a quiet whine, and he removes them, carefully lowering your leg. You feel fuzzy-headed, trying to catch your breath, a few beads of sweat rolling along your hairline. One of his hands gently falls on your back, rubbing soothing patterns on your skin.

“I truly am sorry,” Aemond admits.

You chuckle lightly. “I think you already made it up to me.”

Despite the hint of humor, there’s an anxious feeling stirring in your abdomen, and you are afraid to open your eyes to meet his. You don’t know what’s to come and you dread the emptiness that will follow if he leaves.

Aemond tenderly cups your face with his hand:

“Mayhaps my intentions were not clear enough. I do plan to properly court you,” your eyes snap open at his words.

There’s a brief pause before he adds. “But I still need to apologize for my behavior because you deserved none of it. I was unfair with my judgment as I let jealousy get the best of me,” he sounds genuinely remorseful.

You glance at him in confusion, the gears turning in your head for a moment, and then you realize.

"You were jealous of Jace?!"

Aemond looks down at the floor, and there’s something endearing in his evident embarrassment. With your thumb and index finger you caress the jut of his jaw and make him look at you again.

“Aemond, I can barely consider him a friend. And the boy can only think about Baela, he speaks of her as if she is the light of his life.”

“I know that feeling," Aemond doesn’t hide his smile anymore when he’s with you. He brings your hand to his lips, and the sincerity of his words tugs at your heart. He leaves kisses on your knuckles, and you’re overwhelmed with happiness spreading in your chest.

“Do you get that feeling every time we argue? Or when I challenge you?” you inquire with a giggle.

His laugh vibrates against your skin. When Aemond meets your gaze, there are no doubts and reservations left, no room for denial.

“My biggest challenge was not to fall in love with you. I failed miserably,” he puts both of his hands on your waist, drawing you closer. “But I will humble myself before you because I cannot stand the thought of us being apart ever again,” Aemond presses his forehead against yours.

“I don’t plan on it,” you trace his scar with your finger, giving him goosebumps. “But you do know there still will be days when we vex each other to no end?” your voice is barely audible.

He moves his mouth to yours and, before bringing your lips together, he whispers:

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And neither would you.

the author doesn’t know how to shut up: — the dress is from “Atonement” (although I imagined her neckline a bit differently); — I haven’t written smut in a very long time so... I hope it was okay? any thoughts and comments will be very appreciated because I’m nervous about this 🥺 (not gonna lie, this was kinda self-indulgent so I hope that at least some of you will enjoy it, too!)

* I know there is an amazing fic called “bane of my existence, object of my desire” by @ jasonsmirrorball — I love it to pieces and highly recommend it! 💕 💚 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

[backmuscles21]

Moments With You

Poly Recoms x Reader

Summary: some of your favourite fluffy moments with your recom lovers.

Not super long, but I know y'all have been fiending for more of our beautiful recoms.

Warnings: implied sexual content, explicit language, nudity, domestic fluff.

You always found yourself laughing, you would think about the things that you did with your lovers. All these hardened soldiers, these stoic and strong men and women and you’d do dumb domestic stuff with them. stuff they never thought they’d ever do and hear you were acting drunk in love. You’d have pillow fights, bubble baths, tickle fights, you’d fake wrestle, you would bake together, you’d cuddle and watch movies. These people were supposed to be the protector of mankind, the strongest of the front line and they were holding you like the most precious object to them.

They were people who crushed skulls with their giant blue mitts, had so much innocent blood on their hands and they held you like you could break if they breathed too hard on you. Yet somehow, they still liked to fuck the shit out of you and leave you with bruises in the morning.

You would commonly sing a random song that was playing in your headphones while you cleaned, you would start scrubbing the countertops and you’d just have to sing your favourite parts. You’d never hear any of the soldiers coming up on you, you’d be cleaning and singing also probably a little dancing. Then you’d feel arms around your waist, you’d be lifted up against someone’s chest. You’d let out a girly shriek as you’d drop the sponge you were using and took an earbud out. You had a feeling it was one of your lovers and as you turned around you saw Lyle who was smirking at you and trying not to laugh as he let go of you.

“Asshole,” you’d laugh out at him at slapped him on his arm.

Lyle laughed and pulled you into a hug, your head rested on his chest as his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

“You looked cute. Not to mention these tights you wear while cleaning -mmm- damn baby, I could eat you up.”

You let out a scoffed laugh, you kissed his chest and pushed away from him. “Okay, I gotta finish otherwise this place would be a mess.”

“Wow, what a cockblock.”

“I’ll block your cock later. Or get Miles to do it,” you smiled to yourself as you grabbed the sponge on the floor.

One of your favourite things to do was get in a shower after a mission, you were dirty and sweaty and nothing was better than getting clean and smelling good. It got better when you had company, which was often, one of the boys heard you showering or followed you into the bathroom. They’d open the shower curtain and see you scrubbing your body, now they had to admit you were extremely good looking but this was about sex.

Commonly Miles was the one to join you, he’d be the last in the communal recom bathroom since as the colonel he had to do so many different reports and debriefings. Well, he would shower before writing any reports, there were always things he had to do. You just took your sweet time showering, especially when you didn’t have someone with you to judge you for wanting to be in the warm water for 30 minutes.

You’d see him tiredly walking in and removing his clothes, when he walked into the shower stalls you reached out and pulled him into you. He sighed tiredly as you held him close, you then grabbed some soap and got started on scrubbing his body. You started to scrub all the dirt and blood off his arms before ensuring that you really got into the knuckles of his hands and under his nails. You started to scrub at his scalp, he purred at the feeling of your nails massaging his scalp. His hands held onto your waist as his forehead rested against yours, you just stood in the shower connected by your hands and your foreheads. It was the most intimate of times you had with any of them, although Zdog enjoyed it, she’d get freaked out after a while and try to start getting handsy.

Even better when you heard about this the following morning, but you were in Prager’s room for the night. You had woken up to use the bathroom and slowly trudged out of the bedroom to the bathroom. You barely had your eyes open so you didn’t see Lopez and Ja snickering on the couch as you shuffled along the floor in Prager’s sweatpants. They were too big on you and sat low on your hips not to mention how you were stepping on them and you were in a tank top that was showing off your midriff and your cleavage.

“Whose room is she in tonight?”

“I think Prager’s,” Ja responded.

“I mean she’s wearing his clothes.”

“They probably smashed and she threw on his clothes to go to the bathroom.”

They laughed as you walked back out and went back into Prager’s room. They told you about it in the morning and you smiled embarrassingly at them.

“Come on, you looked cute,” Ja said kissing your head.

“She was wearing your clothes, Prager. Time to get primal,” Lopez said while snickering.

“She wasn’t wearing it when she went to sleep,” Prager smirked back.

“You guys are gross.”

“Shoulda just come out wearing nothing. It's not like we haven’t seen it before,” Lopez said hugging you.

“I have decency you know. I hang out with too many boys.”

Another thing that happens often is you’d wake up earlier than them and go to the gym before them. you liked that more since you could blast your own music and actually focus on working out rather than knowing that you had so many different eyes on you watching your ass or your tits as you worked out.

You’d blast your rap music at a high volume and get your squat rack ready, you were already dripping sweat from sprinting earlier. You would occasionally sing along to some of your favourite parts of the different songs. As you were in the zone squatting away, you didn’t even notice a few of the recoms enter the gym.

“Didn’t know you listened to this,” Zdog said to you as she stood in front of you.

You nodded to her and looked around to see Walker, Mansk, Lyle and Miles.

“You’re looking good babe,” Lyle winks at you from the free weights.

You rolled your eyes and smiled at him.

Walker walked up to you as you put the bar back down, she smacked your ass hard.

“Ow,” you looked at her while you rubbed your butt cheek with a pout.

“Come on, you’re wearing the tightest of spandex shorts and a sports bra. Your ass is just too good to resist.”

Walker gave it another lighter smack as you stood chest to chest. Her one arm stayed on your butt after smacking it to just hold it and squeeze it, the other stayed firmly around your waist. She ran her bottom lip through her teeth as she looked down at you hungrily. She moved her hands up your body to grab the straps to your sports bra, she pulled them down your arms as tits popped out. She smirked down at your boobs.

“These are real fucking nice.”

“Did you have to just take them out?”

“Nah, but I am enjoying myself.”

Your hands went to your hips as Walker’s hands cupped your boobs.

“Shit, are those (y/n’s) tits?” Fike said as he walked into the gym getting everyone’s attention. Zdog walked over to you and Walker and breathed out a laugh, Zdog went up behind Walker and rested her chin on Walker’s shoulder.

“So, whatdya gonna do with them?”

“Not sure yet. I just like looking.”

“You’re more than looking now, babe. You’ve got ‘em out and about and squeezing them in your hands.”

“Lemme get all up in there,” Lyle said as he came up to you three.

“Girls only,” Walker smirked at Lyle.

Later on, as you were in the shower, Mansk went to follow you, he had been riled up earlier. He walked into the communal bathroom and immediately heard you humming and singing. He walked a little further to see the showers, you had water dripping down your body and hair. Mansk could see your lips moving, your eyes were closed as you belted out one of your favourite songs that you felt you could sing well.

“Damn that’s hot,” Fike said as he rested his elbow on Mansk’s shoulder.

Mansk hummed and shrugged Fike’s elbow off of his shoulder.

“Are you guys just gonna stare?” You said with your back to them.

After your shower you got dressed and got ready for the day, you had to rebraid your hair and get it up out of your face for any of your military responsibilities. You were sat on your bed as you brushed all your hair back, you had tied it into a lower ponytail and started to brain down your que. You were still completely naked as you like to dry off completely before getting dressed.

“I see you’re all ready for me.”

You looked at your doorway as you saw Miles leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed and a smirk plastered on his forehead.

“I’m not like this for you, but I could be. After I finish my hair.”

“Do you want a hand?”

“The big bad Miles Quaritch knows how to braid hair?”

“Had to learn after we came back, yaknow, for this,” Miles said as he lifted his braided que.

“Who taught you?”

“I had two sisters growing up and in Texas, they taught me so I could do their hair.”

You laughed.

“You tell no one.”

“I’ll say Z taught u if someone asks.”

“Just don’t bring it up.”

“It’s cute that you did that for them though.”

Miles came into your room and closed the door; he sat down right behind you and finished your braid. He grabbed you and sat up on his legs, he held you close to his body, and your head rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your bare back.

Now this happened often, it honestly was one of your favourite things to do with the recoms, especially when all in the common room together. You’d stand behind someone, this time it was Prager, and your chin rested on his head. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, your hands rested on his chest and after a few moments of talking all around you stood up straighter and rested your hands on his shoulders.

Your hands just absentmindedly started to massage his shoulder; your hands squeezed at his tense muscles. He groaned lowly and rested his head back against the couch.

“Fuck that’s good.”

You smiled down at him as he had his eyes closed, you rubbed into his neck a little as well, his muscles were so tight.

“You enjoying yourself. You’re very tense.”

“Baby it’s fucking amazing. I needed this.”

“Wanna do me next?” Lopez says with a smirk.

“Sure, why not.”

Now, this rarely happened but occasionally things would get a little out of hand, but when it did, it had to be your favourite.

Currently, you were completely topless as Lyle chased you around with just his standard issues RDA track pants on. You held your boobs in your hands as you jumped up onto the couch to try and get away from Lyle. You would occasionally scream a little as Lyle laughed, he would follow you trying to catch you. You and him were playing around, he would answer one of your questions and you’d take an article of clothing off. It ended up with him lying and you being chased, it didn’t stop even as some of the other recoms entered the room.

“What is going on in here?” Miles asked in his commanding tone.

“Lyle cheated,” you said as you kept trying to run away.

“What are you talking about?” Mansk asked.

“We were playing a game and he cheated.”

“What on earth kind of game were you talking about?” Zdog asked.

“He was answering my questions and every right answer, I’d strip. But he lied.”

“So, that’s why you’re running around half-naked?” Miles asked.

“Come on, it’s not like you guys are complaining. She’s shirtless,” Lyle said as he caught up to you and picked you up.

He pressed kisses all over your face and down your chest, “gotcha.”

“Shut up,” you said as you rolled your eyes with a smile.

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.33

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

Finally away from the chaos, you relax your tense shoulders as soon as the door to Nat’s bedroom shuts. You take notice of the way Nat constantly protectively hovers near you and the subtle brushes of her hand against yours. If you’re honest you hadn’t been expecting her to be this physical but you’re not complaining. 

The first thing you notice is her gray comforter and you smirk at the reminder of your previous conversation.

“What are you smiling at?” You could give her a long list of reasons you would be smiling right now (most of them pertaining to her presence) but instead, you opt for the truth.

“You really need better taste in comforters”

Nat groans, shaking her head but smiling nonetheless. The apprehension from the car ride seems to have completely dissipated and you’re grateful that she’s feeling as comfortable around you in person as she was over the phone.

Taking the opportunity to observe her room, you notice the decoration is minimal but still cute. Books on the shelves, a few framed pictures of her and the other Avengers, a few framed drawings made by some kids who call her “Aunty Nat”

It feels incredibly intimate to be in the space where Natasha spends all of her time and you’re unsure what to do with yourself until Nat gestures for you to sit at the edge of her bed.

You take the invitation and plop down on the gray comforter while Nat chooses to stay standing, the two of you observing each other in privacy for the first time. Your hands itch to touch her again and you have a feeling you were going to have that urge for a while. 

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was full of things the two of you were too afraid to say. Was it too soon to tell her how you felt? Maybe you should diffuse some of this tension between the two of you?

“So not an FBI agent then” It’s the first thing that comes to mind and it feels appropriate to mention the first conversation you’d ever had for one of your first in-person conversations. Like an ode to the past but a promise of a playful future.

She smiles at the reference “Not quite” Now that the two of you are alone her expression has changed into something softer. Her once-guarded eyes now shine with an expression so profound it makes your heart ache. A permanent smile stuck on her inviting lips.

Without the pressure of other people, the two of you could express your love for each other with more than just a verbal longing. Your body language spoke more than your words ever could.

You don’t know if Natasha can read the emotions on your face, or if her reading them would be a good or bad thing but you know you don’t want to say goodbye anytime soon.

”I think you owe me a picnic date” it’s the only thing you can think to say to comprehend your desire to stay without outright asking. You hope it quells any doubts in Nat's mind that you would want anything near the opposite of being with her.

“Oh yeah?” Her reply is sultry, the rasp of her voice seems to intensify tenfold in the privacy of her room and you’re suddenly aware of just how alone the two of you are. If Nat didn’t want anyone to enter and interrupt then no one would dare. 

You have to clear your throat before you can reply, afraid the want would be too prominent and scare her off. Truthfully she could do anything she wanted to you in this moment and you wouldn't object.

Her signature smirk is back in an instant and you’re sure you’ve been caught just by the look in her eyes but she doesn’t comment on it “I think I can do that”

Her phone buzzes in her back pocket and it reminds you that there’s a world outside of the two of you- reminds you that Nat is a woman with a tough life and even tougher responsibilities. A life that you would hate to get in the way of. 

The thought makes you frown ”You must be busy with sorting out the government and superhero business and other stuff” She doesn’t give you more than a second to drown in your thoughts-

”I’d drop everything for you, Y/n” It's a quick response, and even she seems surprised by her own words but she doesn't seem to regret them. It’s a bigger admission than you were ready for but it’s still a welcome one. If anything it gives you confidence in your own feelings.

~

The two of you spend the next hour catching up on each other's lives and dancing around the obvious tensions between you. Nat remains standing and you wonder if it’s a force of habit until you notice her restless hands and come to the striking realization that she was holding herself back- from touching you.

When there’s a lull in the conversation you gather up the courage to ask her a question you’ve been wondering since you figured out Nat was Natasha

“Why did you keep texting me? You could’ve blocked me or probably disabled my phone if you wanted but you didn’t” You don’t tell her yet how grateful you are that she never stopped texting you. How you were so consumed by your loneliness that you never even went out before her. 

The thrill that anyone could be her was one of the things that pushed you to go outside more.

Nat smiled softly “I don’t really know why either. I probably should’ve done those things but…” Her eyes turn solemn despite the smile on her face and it makes you want to distract her from whatever memory is making her sad but the desire to know why she kept texting you kept your mouth shut “I think part of me needed someone to talk to who didn’t know who I was or what I’d done. It also didn’t hurt to get such high praise about myself all the time”

You blush, looking away. The memory of all of your fan-girl rambles causing you to groan and cover your face in embarrassment. 

“Oh my gosh, I said all of those things about how much I liked you to you” You hear her footsteps get closer and when you peek out from between your fingers you see her standing right in front of you staring down at you with mirth in her eyes.

“Don’t be embarrassed, it was cute” You choke out a sound of embarrassment, you’re not sure how red you are but you’re sure tomatoes would probably be jealous.

“I regret so much” You mock whisper and in a second two hands are tugging yours away from your face, the sly smile on Nat’s face is replaced with a more serious look

“Y/n,” You struggle to maintain eye contact when she’s looking at you so strongly “Nobody’s ever talked about me the way you did, it made me proud of who I am, which is something I’m not often” You frown a little and Nat’s eyes drop to your lips for a split second before regaining eye contact

“You can be embarrassed but you’re not allowed to regret it” You nod slowly and she pulls away, letting go of your arms but still standing over you. Your skin burns where she touched and you’re sure your heart is beating loud enough for her to hear it. 

She had no business having this much of an effect on you but you were helpless to stop it. -Not that you wanted to.

“So…” You start “ This might make things a little awkward between us but I don’t think I can keep it to myself anymore” She tilts her head in question but stays silent for you to continue. You take a deep reassuring breath in and begin speaking before you can convince yourself to quit

“I know this might sound a little bit crazy because this is our first time meeting in person but you’re such an incredible person inside and out, and you were always there for me when I needed you, and you’re unfairly funny for someone who claims to not have a sense of humor and well… it was kind of inevitable that I would fall in love with you” 

It’s terrifying to admit to her but there’s a weight that lifts off of your shoulders nonetheless. The silence is heavy and you can’t bring yourself to look her in her eyes, scared that all you’ll find is rejection or disgust. You’re so sure that you’ve just ruined the best potential friendship and regret begins to sink into your skin when Nat once again guides your face to look up at her.

Much to your surprise, you don’t find disgust or disappointment, instead, you find two glassy green eyes staring at you with so much adoration it fills your whole body with warmth. She looks like she can’t believe what she just heard is real and it’s your turn to hear just how rapidly her heart is beating 

“Say it again” It takes you a few seconds to register her words but once you do a hopeful smile creeps onto your face

“I love you.” You say a little shakily, and then with more confidence “ I love you, Nat. More than I probably should love someone I met on the internet but what can I say? I fell in love with you.” You laugh a little as happy tears begin trailing down your cheeks, “You don’t have to say it back I just-”

“I love you too” She interrupts and your heart tugs blissfully in your chest “From the moment I met you I should’ve blocked your number but I couldn’t. You just had this magnetic energy even through the phone and it drew me to you in a way I knew would end up with my heart in a mess.” You’re crying even harder now and Nat takes a moment to wipe the tears from your face before continuing-

“- And then I saw you at Starks party and you were… everything. Witty and gorgeous and beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined you’d be. That’s when I knew, even if it was terrifying- even if it was unfamiliar and I could get hurt- I knew then that I was in love with you.”

You’ve never heard anyone talk about you in such a way and it moves you so much that you can’t bear to hold yourself back any longer. Your hand drifts to her face and your eyes search hers for permission only for her to pull you in.

Your lips meet in a teary overwhelmingly tender kiss and you think you could live in this moment forever. Nat’s hands tug at your cheeks to pull you even closer and your hands find purchase around her neck, the two of you lost in each other.

Your body melts at her touch and you lose track of time as your mind hazes over, incapable of thinking of anything but the feeling of Nat’s lips against yours until the need for oxygen pulls you apart. 

Even though you pull apart Natasha keeps her forehead pressed against yours, not wanting to break contact. Overwhelmed with joy, a small breathy laugh escapes you as you stare into Nat’s heady gaze.

“Do you think we could do that again?” You’re a little shy to ask but Nat responds with a husky laugh of her own

“I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon, Y/n”

Epilogue

A/n: Gah! Finally! God they’re so perfect for each other :( I’m going to miss them ~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162 @dyslexic-dreamer @graniairish @colettehope @kosmichs1 @nmhlver @natblidaclexa @skittlebum @dorabledewdroop @nothanksbye07 @mrsrushman @midastouch013 @thalia-is-not-ok @tessalah @annab3113 @officialnighttime @taliiiaasteria @bgwlsmahf25 @chibilauren @natashasgirlll @nmhlver @strange-night-owl @obsessedwjill @autorasexy @madamevirgo @kissesfornat @gemz5

[gatitties]

Ayo I wondering if you could the straw hats or heart pirates with reader who's personality involves them being sarcastic, mischievous and brazenly condescending yet sly and humorous. they also have the genso genso no mi that allows the user to create physical illusions that can be seen by everyone. These illusions are highly convincing and shatter like glass when reader dispels them, or someone breaks them. Their most apparent use of them is creating illusions around their body, either to disguise themselves or for their opponent to target while they escapes or moves unseen to another point of attack.  They also seem to be somewhat resilient to damage. While fighting an opponent, the illusion concealing reader's outfit was not dispelled even after taking or landing some hits.  They also learned to use their devil fruit abilities for psychological manipulation, exploiting the appearance of close friends and families in their enemies to torment and overpower them. Reader at one point displayed their mastery over their devil fruit, where they managed to completely disguise an entire navy ship to physically resemble a marine ship, implying that they could maintain the facade long enough to fool the marines. Their devil fruit awakening would allow the reader to cast illusions from any object or living thing from their own surroundings. An example would be zoro who was cast an illusion on him to make others see him as Charlos (aka the ugly celestial dragon). that would make the opportunity for Luffy or any of the straw hats to fight him while not realizing that is zoro while reader comes up with a plan.

─Strawhats & Heart Pirates x reader

─Summary: You're a mischievous person, you like to cause some chaos with your powers, even if it's your own crew, you just enjoy the drama too much.

─Warnings: none

─ You are a threat and a salvation in equal parts for this crew.

─ Reliable enough to get them out of trouble thanks to your illusions, and evil enough to create small fights between them with your power.

─ You live for drama, and what better drama than blaming others for acts they haven't done? You love causing chaos wherever you step, did you think that just because they are your friends they would get rid of your bad jokes?

─ Nami has probably hit you more than once for being silly or making an unfortunate comment on more than one occasion, but your sarcasm can't be stopped.

─ Robin and Jinbe are the ones who fall least into your traps of illusion, they know how to detect when you are going to do something mischievous, they can read you like an open book.

─ Zoro and Sanji are the ones you mess with the most, confusing them and making their bromance more than just bros, but you're just trying to make love blossom, at least that's your legitimate defense.

─ You can be sarcastic, stubborn… and countless other things, but Chopper is not part of your jokes, at least, not most of the time.

─ Although you will use his appearance in your hallucinations to scare Usopp, there is nothing that scares the sniper more than meeting a monstrous and unreal version of his cute friend.

─ Something that is not so common to use with them is the 'mental control' that you began to develop, it seemed to you that it was something that you should only use with enemies… and with the occasional whim.

─ Do you want to go to a snowy island just to ride a sleigh and make snowmen? Not to mention more! A couple of wishful thinking, some sweet words and you'll be on a winter island the next day.

─ Although they probably scolded you for altering the route, you defend yourself by saying that it wasn't you who agreed to change it, they can't really blame you when they were the ones who "agreed".

─ You have a list with all the most hated people in the crew just to create illusions and provoke everyone to go against each other.

─ Literally sometimes you are the definition of “why have enemies when you have friends.”

─ Law is so fed up with your behaviour but you are so useful in avoiding marines that he allows some of your comments and antics.

─ Although he will probably send you many more tasks than the others as a punishment for taking years off his life with your jokes.

─ You will make him think that he is eating bread, getting on your captain's nerves and doing a puzzle with your body so that you can kill the boredom rebuilding it.

─ Shachi and Penguin have a lot of fights because of you, but they are so easy to fool that it is impossible for you not to confuse them with some of your illusions so that they end up arguing over trivial things.

─ Ikkaku has strictly forbidden you entry to the kitchen because the last thing she needs is to cause more disasters in the kitchen, and she's also a tough nut to crack, your illusions don't work so well with her.

─ Of course Law also learned to see through your power, so you started using a little psychology for your antics.

─ One day you simply decided that it would be a good idea to use your powers to convince everyone to dress up as penguins for a mission, the moment was unforgettable just like cleaning the floor of the submarine with a toothbrush…

─ Once you made Jean Bart take the form of Bepo, although only Law could see him like that, everyone laughed at him for seeing him hug the wrong person.

─ It goes without saying that you had to do another arduous task after messing with your captain.

─ Bepo is probably the only one who escapes the worst jokes, you will use him as a shield for some scoldings, he really is your most powerful weapon against your captain.

─ They always send you to the rear in case they need you to create some illusion for an unexpected situation, Law is usually calculating and rarely prefers to take action if it is not planned in advance.

─ What seems boring to you and sometimes you decide to improvise a little, without ruining the plan, but it's more fun to watch the bad guys beat each other while you just watch the fight like it's a movie

─ The probability of arguing with Law for disobeying him is lower, since at least you didn't ruin the mission, or at least, he doesn't have to remember that you ruined something, you just have to alter his mind a little so that he doesn't realize that your little mistakes.

[sweetestlamb]

The Boy is Mine

Summary: Sol deals with the struggles of dating a kpop idol. It goes very well for all parties involved. (Rated Filth again)

She knows that you can't be too clingy especially when the relationship is fresh, you're supposed to be aloof, pleasant and agreeable. That's what all the magazines say that men want, a cool mysterious woman. Someone that always keeps you guessing what they'll do next.

Someone nothing like her.

But how exactly is she supposed to be any of that with a boyfriend like this? How many people on the planet get to date someone who was their idol who then turned out to be an even better person?

There cannot be many living this dream and she cannot ruin this and ultimately drive Sun Jae away. So she tries to be cool and agreeable.

But it's hard when you're with someone that everyone wants. And she can't even blame the starry eyed admirers, she was just like them. Is just like them. Sun Jae is objectively gorgeous, with a face that could be carved from marble and lips as luscious as the softest petals. Not to mention his body is a work of pure art-hard and cut, and she's seen more of it than any rabid fan girl. To put it simply he's unbelievably hot and it's hard not to cling to him like a desperate koala.

Most days she wants to climb him like a tree.

And honestly she's been short most of her life so others towering over her isn't new but nothing to his calibre. She feels infinitely fragile when she's with him.

Like now, his hands are so huge that they completely dwarf her own. If it were anyone else there would be an element of fear but she knows that he would never hurt her, would rather hurt himself first. It's the same for her, they are each other's biggest weaknesses. And strengths.

"What are you thinking about so diligently that you're ignoring your boyfriend?" His deep voice rips her out of her thoughts and she smiles as he swings their hands as they walk. The only reason they haven't been discovered is because of his face mask and sunglasses. But she doubts that would stop a diehard stan from recognizing the massive idol. Thankfully they haven't encountered any, yet.

"Nothing. Just thinking about how nice the weather is. I'm glad we came out."

And then she adds a smile to go alongside the huge lie she just told.

She doesn't know if he believes her but she's saved by the bell when his phone rings and it's his manager demanding to know where he is and why he isn't at the meet and greet.

So just like that their impromptu date comes to an end and he's whisked away with sweet promises of seeing her soon and she nods agreeably.

Shoving her insecurities deep, deep down.

It's all over the internet.

Pictures of their kiss plastered across her phone screen from every angle and it makes her jaw lock.

Sun Jae's wide eyes meet her from the still shot, his newly hired bodyguard had intervened before things could go any further but the overzealous fan had already gotten what she wanted, a kiss far too close to his lips. Lips that only she should be privy to.

It's not his fault. He's the victim here and she had immediately texted him to see if he was okay because this couldn't be about her. Her jealousy was juvenile and she needed to keep it under lock so she wouldn't scare him away.

And later that week when they're on the couch, shoulder to shoulder and he's stumbling over his words trying to explain what happened she plasters her patented 'cool' smile and brushes him away.

"It's okay. You didn't do anything. It wasn't your fault."

And she truly believes this. In her heart. But that doesn't impede the green eyed creature lurking there too.

She goes to work and tries her best to focus, listen to her boss, pretend to care about office drama, clicking away at her computer in a daze. Nobody knows what they are to each other so her worries are her own to shoulder and carry.

It's only when she takes a break in the staff lounge that she hears what has the whole office in such a buzz since this morning.

"......think it's true. He's never dated anyone before even though he's sooooo hot. I'm so jealous, he's the hottest one in the group."

"You saw the pictures, they look amazing together! Celebrities like them just make sense."

And she timidly takes a look on her phone opening up her Goople browser and it's the first thing she sees.

"Ryu Sun Jae and Kim Syeon spotted getting cozy on the Red Carpet, could this mean a total eclipse of idol's heart?"

Paparazzi shots from every angle flood her timeline, the young actress looked gorgeous in all of them with her ink black hair and smooth pale skin. And the worst part was how sickenly good they really did look together.

With her they either looked like an odd couple or siblings according to some strangers but that wasn't the case now, the other woman was tall with a slim statuesque figure.

What were they talking about? Why did they have to look so damn good together? Why was this making her so upset? She wanted to cry.

The ache in her chest is unbearable.

She's outside this door before can she talk herself out of it.

Fist lifted to knock but the door opens before she can touch the rich thick wood and then she's looking at that gorgeous face that she has been missing.

"Sol? I was just coming to talk to you!"

Probably to explain. But she can't hear him because all she can see is replaying in her mind is the video of a stranger kissing her boyfriend or the actress staring up in awe at her boyfriend and it's driving her crazy.

So she pushes him back through his opened door, ignoring his questions and confusion.

"I already know. I know you have a perfectly good explanation for what happened and I know it isn't your fault again but....you said you were mine. You said everything of yours belonged to me so why?"

He stares at her with a gaping mouth, looking like a fish out of water. If she wasn't so angry she would think about how cute he was. But now is not the time for that.

After a moments pause he finally finds his voice back.

"Why what? I really can explain, it's all Dong Seok's fault he told her that--"

"Why are you letting others touch what's mine? Why does everything think that you are with somebody else? Why do I have to hear everyone talk about how hot my boyfriend is and how much they want to fu......"

She slaps her hand over her mouth before the expletive can escape. But his wide eyes make it clear that he knows exactly what she wanted to say.

His mouth only drops lower. And the silence is deafening until he breaks it with a laugh, one singular booming laugh.

"You're jealous."

"Of course I am! How could I not be?"

She almost stomps her feet in frustration as he smiles at her, infuriating with how gorgeous he looks with a smile on his face.

"Are you happy?" She demands and he grins even wider, shameless in his glee.

"I already told you. I belong to you. If you hate others touching what's yours so much, you touch me instead." He challenges her leaning that exquisite body against the wall and opening his arms as if begging her to come and get him.

She's thought about this too many times, staking her claim. But she doesn't know where to start, this was never supposed to be her reality. Even in her dreams it was too much for her to handle.

He watches her with a penetrating stare before raising his hand and slowly opening one button on his dark green button down. Then another and another and another. Until she can see his abs peeking beneath the open shirt and her tongue feels too heavy in her mouth.

He's too hot for her to function.

And still she remains frozen in front of him unable to move a muscle as he strips for her right in the foyer.

"What? Cat got your tongue? And what do I have to do to get it instead?"

No way. This can't be her Sun Jae but at the same time this is how he speaks to her now ever since they stumbled into a relationship. Always teasing and hinting at something.... she's not sure they're ready for.

But his admittance that he's hers helps her figure out her next move.

My Sun Jae.

That gets her moving. The blood rushing through her body again. He is hers. She is not only allowed to touch him but he wants her too, and that's more than anyone else can say.

She has to kiss him, there is nothing else to do but get her lips on him.

He's delicious, a taste that is distinctly his own that she will never get enough of. Mint with an undercurrent of citrus and spice, she presses close for a better taste and it's only then that she remembers his current state of undress.

Nobody but her had ever touched his stomach and so she does so, lavishly raking her nails over the hard plane and then he wraps his arms around her and spins them until she's smashed into the wall.

"What are you doing to me Sol?"

His voice is husky now, wrecked in a way that she wants to bottle up and play at nights when she needs that extra bit to fall over the edge with his name on her tongue.

"Whatever I want."

And then she's on her knees in the foyer. And she knows this is bad, so so bad and she's a good girl. She's never done this before, there was no time to think about anything like this when she was bitterly watching life go by in a wheelchair. But everything has changed and so in this universe she's bending down boldly and staring up at the slack face of her boyfriend.

"Wha- are you serious?"

She can feel his tension like electricity in the air. And she's never been more serious about anything in her life.

"Does this belong to me too?" She strokes up the leg of his pants before curling her hand around the bulge that seems to be begging for her attention.

She almost cringes at her own question feeling like an amateur porn star and she half expects him to laugh at her cheesy lines but instead he grows harder, longer, thicker in her hand and she's terrified she might have bitten off more than she can chew....or swallow.

"Yes. Fuck. It belongs to you, only you. I've only ever thought about you while....." He trails off but she's not that innocent not to be able to fill in the blanks.

He thought about her when he did that.

Touched himself.

She did the same so it shouldn't be surprising but she was shocked all the same.

"What do you think about?" She inquiries as she begins to stroke him, up and down, getting a feel for him through the only barrier between his... And her hand.

"How much I want to make you......scream. The ways that I could drive you crazy. How much I want to.....taste you and feel you."

And she can feel the effects his words are having on her, can feel the heat between her legs, slicking them up. But she can also hear the effect she is having on him, he's struggling to string sentences together panting above her and she can feel the biggest sign of his arousal growing in her palms.

She grips the metal zipper looking up at him and he nods so quickly she worries about his neck momentarily. But that thought fades away just as quickly and she opens up her gift.

"It's so big." She whispers aloud.

Much like the rest of him, his hands, his feet, his height. And now his....

"You're killing me here." He groans with a sudden buck into her hands which results in his head slamming back into the wall.

"Sun Jae! Are you okay?"

She almost stops her ministrations to check on him but he's practically vibrating in her hands as he shouts, "I'm fine! Don't stop, please."

She didn't know men could get wet too but she can see his fluids start to darken the elastic material of his boxers.

What would it taste like? Bitter? Salty?

And oh god, what are earth is she thinking? Was she some kind of pervert?

But despite her internal reprimands her hands never stop moving until she tugs at the band of his boxers and pulls them down with shaking hands.

He's naked. Oh my god.

She's so nervous she could die but she lets instinct carry her along since her experience is lacking.

It juts out impatiently as soon as it's released and she cries out as it nearly hits her in the face. Thankfully Sun Jae had enough foresight to anticipate that and she watches as he takes himself in hand cupping his erection carefully away from her face.

"Careful."

Even in a time like this he's worrying about her, unbelievable.

"Can I...?"

His jaw clenches as her incomplete question, his handsome face contorted in something that looks like pained pleasure.

"Do you not want me to-" her heart aches at the implications but his heated glare is enough to shut down any insecurity or doubt she might have left.

He shakes his head rapidly before answering.

"I'm scared I'm going to.....come too fast if you touch me."

She has no idea how exactly to make a man come, especially a man like him who is so sexy he can probably accomplish that with just a look. But underneath her nerves lay her possessive desires and she wants to be the only one to see him like that, shaking in pleasure because of her touch. So she marches onward.

"How do I.......do that?" She whispers with her head down.

"Well first don't do that." He instantly tilts her head back up with a firm touch of his finger to her chin.

"Look at me. I want to see your face and every expression that you make."

She blushes but obeys his order mostly because she couldn't look away even if she wanted to. She's stuck in his web and has no desire to escape.

"Okay. Look at you. What else?"

"Are you ser- do you really want me to tell you what to do?"

And for a minute she worries that this might be turning him off, her blatant inexperience and need for directions. This is definitely the least sexy way to seduce someone but it's the only way she knows, she's eager to learn what makes him tick.

"Whatever you're thinking right now is wrong. I've wanted you for as long as I can remember, there is nothing you can do that I won't like. Nothing."

Her heart swells at his reassurance but at the same time her eyes meet his hard length and his words are mumbled beneath the rushing of blood to her head.

There is a bead of thick white substance at the very tip and that tingling feeling surges inside her once more.

What would it taste like....

There's only one way to find out.

He's still talking above her but his words are inaudible as she shifts forward with a sudden burst of confidence, opening her mouth just enough to let her tongue peek out and licking the fluid right off him.

Bitter.

That's her first impression but that gives way to salty, then earthy and warm. She takes another taste, more certain now after facing the unknown. Leaning forward she pops the entire tip into her mouth, making sure to cover her teeth lest she hurt him.

As she shifts her hands to his hips she can feel how tightly coiled his muscles are.

He's holding back for her sake and she's truly grateful.

Remembering his words from earlier she looks up at him with his cock dripping in her mouth, slowly licking away the liquid as it pools.

So this is what he looks like.

Fucking glorious. His eyes are screwed shut as he bites down onto his lush bottom lip and she can see a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Sometimes it's intimidating how handsome he is, she wonders what she did in her past life to deserve him.

"Please..... move."

And she perks up at his directions, eager to learn how to make him think about nothing but her.

She doesn't know that this isn't necessary because she's already taken over his heart and mind.

"Like this?" She mumbles around the flesh in her mouth, slowly drawing her mouth back and then pushing it forward trying to swallow a little bit more of him.

"Ah! Yeah...yeah. Just like that. Slower and keep looking at me."

It's a bit difficult because instinctively she wants to look down to make sure she's doing it right but she wants to give him everything he wants. So she stares up at him, flushing at his hard penetrating gaze.

He looks wild, like he's barely wrangling in his true desires.

It's a bit awkward at first but she's grateful when he sudden holds her face, the question clear in his dark eyes.

She nods.

And it's hot beyond her imagination, feeling him grip her face and shove himself into her mouth. He's too gentle as if he thinks she'll break but she accepts the treatment, opening herself up wider.

He thrusts into her once, twice, a shuttering third time before he speaks again, "I need more. Can you take more?" He pleads and his husky tone makes her center twist into knots.

His voice has alway made her feel things but never to this capacity. Never in a way that was so hot blooded.

And she doesn't know what more really entails in this instance but she's so horny right now there isn't much he can ask for that she would deny.

"Mmhmm." She moans around him and oh, he must like that because she can feel him jump in her mouth.

She takes a mental note.

Sunjae likes vibration.

And then there's more, he pushes in deeper and she's forced to open wider to give him space and she blinks away the moisture in her eyes. It's a strain but she refuses to stop now she's made it this far.

A tear falls down her cheek.

He's watching her intently and her breath hitches as he wipes the tear away with his thumb. She worries that he's going to stop and check on her again but this Sun Jae in front of her now is different than what she's used to.

He doesn't slow down, not even a little bit instead thrusting at a tempered pace now until she feels like she might choke on him and more tears spill out and he grunts above her, saying filthy things to her.

Telling her how good she looks. How much he loves her mouth. How badly he wants to taste her too.

She nods passively at his dirty ramblings, giving up all control as he thrusts into her mouth over and over and over again.

The pace is almost explosive and she hangs on for dear life as he uses her roughly, no longer concerned with her comfort too lost chasing his own pleasure and although she's crying full of dick on a floor she's never left more powerful. More desirable.

She wants him to be selfish.

And she wants to be selfish in return.

"Look at me. Look at me." He pleads bucking wildly now and this feels familiar, she's seen x-rated videos before and she knows what comes next. And he must too because he starts to pull away, giving her an out.

But she doesn't want one.

He had said it himself, everything about him belonged to her.

So she grabs onto his hips and refuses to let go, and his resistance only lasts for a second before he's plowing into her and filling up her, so badly that it spills from the sides of her lips and she is powerless to do anything but wait and keep sucking.

"Fuck!"

He shouts before collapsing, finally freeing his length from its home.

They stare at each other in awe, her in disbelief that she just gave Sun Jae a blowjob in the foyer and him that any of this is reality and not his mind tormenting him.

"You don't have to swa-"

She gulps and licks her lips defiantly.

"Ugh you're going to get me hard again!" He cries, covering his eyes.

That would be impressive, she did not think that was a feat possible for the average man but her Sun Jae has never been average in any sense.

She opens her mouth to speak but feels the strain in her throat and coughs a little before trying again.

"Was that okay?"

He moves his hands and looks as if she just asked the world's dumbest question.

"I'm pretty sure my soul left my body."

She giggles and then covers her mouth still unsure of how to behave after doing that.

It was so unexpected. She practically jumped him but from the look on his face it was no hardship to bare. So she won't apologize.

"What made you suddenly want to...?" He trails off while starting to tuck himself away, she sneaks a peek before he's covered again.

So big. How was that meant to go inside her?

She blushes at the thought.

She really was a pervert huh?

It's not until he lifts a perfectly pucked brow that she remembers that he asked a question. Oops.

"I.... Just.....I guess I have been a little bit jealous. I tried not to be because I know it's stupid but I still couldn't help it." She admits shamefaced but willing to be honest with him now.

"Why is it stupid? I get jealous about you all the time, it's natural. I want you all to myself and I want all your attention. You're allowed to be jealous too."

But he's a pop icon and idol. Surely she needs to tamper her jealousy if they're going to be together. Right?

He holds her face, dragging her closer easily .

" They can't have me the way you have me. Nobody can. I want to belong to you."

Her heart pounds at the declaration and she lets him tug her in and kiss her ever so sweetly, so different from his treatment of her mouth just minutes ago.

She thinks that he might find it weird to taste himself on her tongue but he kisses and suckles at her mouth as if it's of no concern. They make out until she's lightheaded and dizzy, somehow by the end she's wounded up in his lap.

She's too distracted by his teasing tongue to notice his fingers sneaking under her skirt to tease at her slit through her panties, lost in all these new sensations.

She wants him badly but....it's too fast. She's too nervous about being bad at it.

So she tenses up and immediately he stops and pulls away.

"Sorry! Sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

And she hates how guilty he looks like he thinks she will be disappointed or upset and that's the furthest thing from the truth.

"I liked it. I always like when you touch me but...I don't think I'm ready for that yet. You don't have to.... return the favor I just wanted to make you feel good."

He blinks slowly at her and then pulls her fingers up to his lips and kisses each digit one by one.

"Okay. We can stop. We only do what you're comfortable with."

"You too. You have to be comfortable too, it's not just about me." She amends instantly and he smiles charmingly that dimple creasing his perfect face.

"Trust me I'm comfortable with everything as long as it's with you."

She smiles at his admission, confidence surging at his words.

"And to be clear I wasn't trying to return any favors, I don't think you know how badly I want to taste you."

"What are you even saying? Let's get off the floor." She swats at his bicep and tries to crawl away but he grabs her leg and holds on tight, she swallows as she feels his hot breath on her ear as he crowds into her space from behind. His spicy scent wrapping her up in a cocoon.

"I bet you taste sweet. I'd lick you until you screamed and even then I wouldn't stop. Not even if you cried again even though you looked so damn pretty crying. I'd put my fingers in you and watch them sink deep down imagining that it was my-"

"Sun Jae, please" she whimpers in his hold, clutching her legs lest she roll over and let him do everything he's promising right here and now.

"Please what Sol? What do you want baby?" He whispers back, nibbling at her lobe now.

He's called her baby before and it never fails to get her hot and bothered.

This time is no different.

"I need you..."

He moans at that grinding his revived erection into her ass and she jumps at the immediate pleasure.

"I need you to let me go."

"Okay I'll let you go. But when you go home I want you to think about me and make yourself feel good. Can you do that for me baby?"

"I can do it."

"Good girl." He pats her head and with that lets her go before offering her a hand up. She tries not to blush at how easily he can lift her but it's a losing battle.

He gives her a look but says nothing thankfully.

"You didn't give me a chance to speak earlier but I wanted to clear some things up. That fan didn't kiss me, I turned my head and I won't be doing any more fan meets for a while."

She starts to argue but he silences her with a finger on her lips.

"Shhhh. I'm not finish yet."

She nods, snapping her mouth closed.

"I did that for myself. I need break from.... everything. I feel like a piece of meat sometimes and I just need some time without being constantly objectified by strangers."

She understands. She could never handle so many people wanting her attention and doing anything to have it even if it might invading her privacy and personal space.

"And I already told my management team to put out an article denying any affiliation with that actress, I don't even know her or know why anyone would think we're dating. She's not my type."

And she wasn't aware that he had a type.

"What's your type?" She can't help but ask. Trying and failing to look nonchalant.

"A girl so short I have to break my neck to kiss her who gets so jealous of me that she jumps me in the hallway and sucks my--"

"Oh my god shut up!" She cries, punching him twice before scurrying away.

"I was going to say 'my soul out'. What did you think I was going to say! Sol! Sol, why are you running away? Answer the question."

And she races to the bathroom shutting herself inside with a giggle as he begs her to open up and promises to be good. And eventually she's weak enough to do just that and he tickles her until she's out of breath from laughter.

And even later that night, she makes good on her promise. Finger deep inside herself with nothing but Sun Jae on her mind and on her tongue.

[hadesoftheladies]

FEMALE MOVIE/TV RECS (PART 5 / HORROR & CRIME DRAMA)

got inspired from a recommendation post so decided to make a list of movies and shows with female-centric stories/female protagonists. since i can't post all of the genres in one post, i'll split it into multiple posts and y'all can save or add to the list as you wish. (disclaimer: i have watched most of these, but i only know about the existence of others. not every movie/show on these lists will be my recommendation. my recommendations will be beneath the list with reasons. also some of these are way better than others in terms of storytelling/performance--which is why i'll list my faves separately):

Common Themes:

-Dangerous girls (they ain't innocent)/ girlhood as violent

-Stressed out and melancholic female detectives and authors (lots of drinking/smoking)

-Mothers who've seen too fucking much to play games/I'm a good mother until it doesn't let up

-Women handling shit/getting shit done

-Mothers who didn't want to be mothers but here we fucking are so might as well handle shit

-Evil women who are also unfortunately hot

-Female sociopaths (not always negatively portrayed)

HAVEN'T WATCHED

The Royal Hotel

The Silent Twins

The Kitchen

The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart

I'm Thinking of Ending Things

Sharp Objects

Killing Eve

Abigail

Heavenly Creatures

A Quiet Place Part 2

Panic Room

Alice, Darling

Blood Red Sky

Rust Creek

The Marsh King's Daughter

Pearl

Longlegs

GOOD STUFF (NEVER WATCHING AGAIN THOUGH!)

Bad Sisters (8/10) (sisters plan to kill their sister's abusive husband)

Yellowjackets (9/10) (love as cannibalism)

Candy (7.5/10) (she's just a killer lol)

Cruella (6.5/10)(help my mom is a narcissist and it's hereditary)

Jennifer's Body (7/10) (boys aren't people lmao)

Bird Box (8/10)

Under the Bridge (8/10)

PERSONAL NOTES

I watched Tragedy Girls years ago, and I remember being grossed out and having a lot of fun as well. If you like Jennifer's Body, you'll probably like Tragedy Girls, too. And if you like Tragedy Girls, you may also enjoy Thoroughbreds. All three have a twisted sense of girlpower.

The Call isn't scary so much as its nerve-wracking and upsetting. It's not gory (although there is violence), but it deals with heavy subject matter. I can, however, promise a satisfying ending. Even though I doubt it would put you at ease.

Horror is my least favourite genre so bear that in mind. I just hate jump scares (because I hate being startled) and I don't like gore though there are times where it doesn't bother me so much. So this is definitely not an exhaustive list on horror recs. Crime is as close as I usually get to such dark stuff so I put the dark crimes, psychological thrillers and horrors together. I don't even want to talk about these that much because I'm nauseous already.

Watch at your own risk.

[anamericangirl]

@sugarplum-sapphic oh I see you’ll “entertain this for a second” but you’ll turn off reblogs to make it harder for people to respond to you lol. I guess to make you feel like you did a better job responding than you actually did.

I don’t really care what you think about my blog to be honest. If seeing someone you disagree with on most things is red flag that says more about you than it does about me. But I get it. Pro-aborts like yourself tend to create echo chambers so you never have to have your ideas challenged. So I understand that seeing someone who has different opinions than you would scare you.

But since you’re “entertaining this” I’ll entertain it too. 😊

I’m curious where you got the idea that the right to life just “doesn’t apply” to this simply because the baby is dependent on their mother. I’m not aware of any documents, legal or otherwise, that state that the right to life is only applied to people who aren’t in a dependent state. So since you’re making the claim that there are some people the right to life just doesn’t apply to as if that’s an objective fact when it contradicts every single law and founding document we have you better have a pretty airtight source and reasoning for that preposterous claim. I am very curious on where you got that idea. What law or founding document did you read that made you think babies don’t have the right to life because they need their mother to maintain their life. You know babies are also dependent on others to maintain their life after being born? So I’m assuming you think it’s ok to kill babies after birth as well. Otherwise you would be inconsistent.

Ah yes. The organ donation argument. You use “classic” to describe it. I like to call it the “overused” and “thoroughly debunked” argument that y’all won’t let die even though it demonstrates that you really don’t understand what abortion is. This is why I ask y’all to actually take some time to learn about abortion before continuing to support it.

Let’s go over all the ways your kidney argument is very bad and does not justify abortion at all.

1. First, the situations are not similar. Not at all. Using a situation that does not match abortion in any way shape or form does not justify abortion. You would have to make up a similar situation in order for this to make sense. This just shows you don’t know what you’re talking about.

2. There is a big difference between not saving the life of a dying person and intentionally killing a healthy person who would have continued to live without your interference, k? Until you can understand that very big difference you are not ready for the abortion debate.

3. Organ donation does not require you to actively kill a person. Do you understand that? The only way to make organ donation comparable to abortion is if you were going to argue that it would be ok for you to then stab the person who needs the kidney after deciding not to donate yours.

4. Abortion is not organ donation. Deciding you don’t want your baby does not give you the right to commit a subsequent act of violence. It does not give you the right to actively and intentionally kill a child.

5. You’re not obligated to save the life of a dying person. You are obligated not to murder someone.

So in short, no you can’t be forced to donate a kidney but you still can’t kill babies. Get it now?

Do you understand there is a difference between dying a natural death and being murdered? It’s important that you understand that. You see, the right to life, which does apply to people even if they are in a dependent state, is not the right not to die, but it does mean other people cannot take it upon themselves to end your life.

You very clearly do not even understand bodily autonomy either. It applies to your body only and it does, in fact, have limitations. Making a decision about what happens to your body does not mean you have the right to harm another person’s body. Your bodily autonomy ends where the baby’s body begins. Because that is a different body that you don’t have bodily autonomy for. Bodily autonomy is not the right to kill. It’s very important that you understand that as well.

You mistakenly think that a sick person dying because no one donated a kidney is the same thing as inducing a heart attack in a baby and then ripping their body apart. That is extremely ignorant and I encourage you to educate yourself on this matter. Feel free to ask me any questions you have. I have a lot of resources I can share that will help you understand abortion, human rights and fetal development a lot better.

[thecameronchronicles]

Bet

TW: semi-public sexual actions. Smut. Language. Degrading language. 

SUMMARY: A Series of dares result in secrets being brought to the surface. 

WORD COUNT: 2100

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

"If you want to wuss out, that's up to you, but I'm going for bragging rights..." JJ continued to lead the parade of pogues making their way to the direction of the Crain House.  Only now, John B and Pope were stragglers while you were left with a decision to remain with the wise or continue forward with the reckless. 

"Better a wuss that's alive..." Pope spoke in a loud whisper as JJ simply responded with a middle finger catching the motion sensor and forcing all of the lights throughout the backyard to illuminate the entire scene. 

"You aren't really going are you?" John B asked as he caught your wrist. 

"Already made it this far..." The amount of overgrowth and shadow allowed you to slip undetected behind JJ's charge as he found focus to the window at the side of the house. 

"What now, Mcguver?" You teased as he pulled out his pocket knife. 

"Patience is a virtue..." You rolled your eyes and feigned a yawn before he managed to pry the window open. 

"Ladies first?" 

"I'll gladly follow behind this time."

He began to move forwards before turning back at the last second. But upon doing so, you had already advanced, which brought your lips a mere inch away from his. 

"You just wanna stare at my ass, don't you?" You pushed him forward, unintentionally knocking him ass first into the basement of the house as he grunted. 

"Always thought if you'd bruise my ass it would be from slapping it-"

"Serves you right..." You responded before dropping down in a feline stance and rising effortlessly. 

"Need help?" 

"I'm scared of your help." You pushed him forward and through the clutter of antiquated toys and furniture lining the bottom room of the house. Your eyes collecting at the more feminine of objects as he came to a baseball bat. 

"This could do some damage..." 

"I don't think any of this needs any help..." You explained while sliding your finger over the top of a shelf as dust collected at the pad of your middle digit. 

"Think anything is worth anything?" He questioned as he picked up decor colored a rusted gold. 

"Is that really all you think about?" To this question, his eyes sank to your physique. He began immediately at your chest and down to your legs, mostly exposed for the aesthetic of another pogue's summer in the Outer Banks. 

"Not all..." 

"You're a pig-" A sudden creaking of a top step led your eyes to widen before you were pulled away in the nick of time. 

"Hello?" An elderly woman's voice echoed in the small space around you as his hand wrapped over your mouth. Your body was pulled to a small cavern as he covered you with the protection of his own body. Until this moment, you hadn't made more than an obvious note of his physique. 

He was always admirable from a distance. The way he shredded waves and his muscles tensed to even the most innocent of motions would catch your eye. And yet, you wrote him off to not cross the line of pogues remaining platonic. But the mix of his body pressing into yours and the thrill of being caught made you nearly soaked at the thought alone. 

"She's going back up..." He likes towards you, reading this darker lust behind your eyes. A focus you never had focused on him. And you were shameless as your eyes fell to his lips. 

"Hey, you 'kay?' 

You nodded. "Why did you follow me? You're supposed to be smarter than me…"

"Because we already broke at least two laws...what's another? Plus, it's not that hard to be smarter…" He chuckled for a moment before pulling your hair over your shoulder, playing with the strand before meeting your eyes again. 

"Really though...why?"

"Because Pope and John B play it safe...and it's the last summer before college and I...I want to live...I want to feel alive..." His eyes fell to your lips, watching them part for him. 

"How alive?" 

"Are you offering something, JJ?"

He cocked his head before feigning a pensive silence. 

"Eh, I don't know...not sure if you could handle it, princess."

"I'm not a princess."

He pushed harder into you. 

"Sweetheart then?" His thumb brushed your nipples from over your cropped top. 

"This make you feel alive? Or just wet?" Your lips parted to speak before he reached under the crop, lifting it high enough to reveal your nipple. His eyes stayed on you as you allowed yourself to succumb to how he made you feel. His tongue rolling over your nipple as he exposed both breasts to him, a hand keeping the other one warm as he massaged it into a pinch. 

"What about the rule? We can't break it, JJ…"

"That rule was made before you made that face…those little noise…I'll gladly take the punishment…"

"Quiet..." 

"Ah...." You gasped as he kissed you to ensure you didn't make a noise. But this only led you to grind into him, finding a ready cock pained beneath his shorts. 

"I bet I can make you come for me..."

"I bet you can't make me." You responded as his hand slipped into your shorts. The immediate chill of his rings contrasting the heat of his touch itself. 

"Fuck-"

"Yeah? Oh shit..." He smirked. "This all for me?"

You nodded as he continued manipulating your nipple, but also with the added pleasure of his finger across your clit. 

"When's the last time you came...you're acting like you've never come..." You ignored him as he applied his palm to your clit. A finger threatening your point of entry. 

"Maybe..." But his finger slipped past it and moved further back. 

"I could use this one instead?" 

"Oh...JJ..." You whimpered. 

"Nah...I wanna feel it when you come..." His eyes looked to the steps. 

"I bet you can't stay quiet with two fingers..." You grunted to the pressure as he pumped slowly. 

"Fuck, that sounds so good..." 

You bit your lips closed. 

"You look good...oh shit...you want this, princess?"

"I'm not-"

"Then why are you so sweet?" He asked while brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. But in doing so, you winced at the loss to your breast. 

"You want more?"

"Please don't stop..." 

"You like when I do this?" He asked while kissing your breast, tongue over your nipple as you pulled his hand harder against you. 

"I wanna come...JJ..." You whimpered. 

"I'm not stopping you...But I bet you can't wait..." You nearly sobbed as he withdrew. He took a single step back as he observed you completely breathless for him. 

"You should always be like this..." 

"If you won't finish-" you threatened your hand to yourself as he held it in his grasp. 

"You don't get to touch yourself..." He unbuckled his belt and set your hand into his shorts. 

"You're so hard-"

"I always am around you, you fucking torture me..."

"It would be nice of me to help then, wouldn't it?" He nodded as you began to pump him. 

"Fuck..." He moaned as you reached up and isiess his neck, his palms testing on the wall beside you. 

"Bet you'll come for me..."

"Oh shit...I want to...oh fuck, I want to..."

"I want you to...JJ...I want to feel you come in my hand..."

"Shit...slow down...slow-" he winced as you only obliged when he began to cry from his tip. You brushed your thumb across his head before taking it between your lips. 

"I bet you won't get on your knees for me..."

Your brow cocked. 

"Easy..." You shrugged as you lowered to him. 

"Of fuck..." You took him against your tonsils, the lack of a gag reflex making him flex. 

"You're fucking with me..." But you only looked at him from beneath damp lashes and took him deeper. Faster. 

"Oh my God..." He forced you to take him completely. 

"Careful..."

"Stand the fuck up..." But you shook your head again, taking him faster. He looked down to you, wincing in pain before taking you against the wall, hand over your mouth. 

"You make one fucking noise and everyone from the axe murder of this house to our friends outside are gonna know how much of a fucking slut you are for me...and I don't think twice about it..."

"Fuck me." You whimpered into his hand as he paused. 

"Put it in...you know where it belongs...right..." He groaned as he hiked your leg to his hip, your shorts dripping to your ankle as you were taken against the wall even sharper. 

"Yes...yes..." He wrapped his hand harder around your mouth as he devoured your breast. 

"JJ..." 

"She's gone..." He pulled you across the basement and onto a table, sweeping it clean with an arm, and bending you over it. 

"Fuck...You gonna come for me? Bet you will..."

"Bet you'll come first..." You retorted as he scoffed. 

"Oh shit, I just might..." He folded himself over you, turning you to kiss him before leading that second hand to your clit. 

"Let it go...stop fighting me...I can feel you..." You clenched around him. 

"Yes...yes...keep doing that..."

"This?" You teased as he tore your shirt off your shoulder and but into the exposed skin. 

"Yes...baby, just like that...oh shit..."

"You wanna come?" 

"Oh I'm gonna...just not yet..." You whimpered. "I'm not done..." He pulled you up to his chest. 

"I want you to keep whimpering for me..." He flicked your nipple as you offered those moans to him and he quickened his thrusts. 

"JJ...oh My God..."

"Yeah? Someone gonna come? Hmmm? You not so ahead of me as you thought?" 

"Ah...JJ...oh...ohhhh..."

"Yes baby...all over me...come all-" He scoffed as you shook, promoting his own release as he battered you into the edge of the table. 

"Keep coming...I want you to keep fucking coming... pussy so good..." He gripped your hair. 

"It's all yours..." To this, he grunted, forcing you to drip for him until he pulled you to face him. He took you this way, wincing at the overstimulation. Whimpering for you. 

"I want more..." He groaned. 

"I bet you can't handle it..." 

"I bet you're gonna come again..."

"I could..." You teased, moaning for him as he lost control of himself within you once again. Only now, moaning and pleasing into your skin. 

"I'm gonna fucking ruin this pussy for anyone else..."

"You already have...Oh, JJ...it's yours..." 

"Yeah?" He pulled himself away from you, stroking himself through your folds. 

"You're so mean..."

"It feels so good...look at me..." His expression made you moan. 

"JJ please..."

"I need to make you come again..." He was on his knees, tugging on himself as he was pulling you to the edge of the table. 

"I wanna feel you come on my face...think you can? I bet you can. I bet you can, hard for me, right?" 

"Oh...." But once again the drop step squeaked. 

"Quiet." 

"I can't...it's too..." Two fingers made this worse as you swore you left reality. Your orgasm crashing from heaven itself as your body collapsed towards him and he nodded into you. 

"Keep coming..." He grinned into your thigh, his breathing pattern labored by his own second release before you pulled him against you. 

"If I have to be quiet, so do you..." 

"I bet you can't." You teased as he clenched his jaw as you kissed his neck again, finding a sweet spot that sent him to submit into you. Your body riding against his as you are etching your desperate nails into his shoulders. Your hand was as sore as your thighs and yet nothing stopped you from wanting to feel him come undone once again. But he wore the same convictions as you bucked into him and found initial release in unison. 

"What the fuck happened to you guys in there?" John B asked when you finally made it out, narrowly escaping the owner. Hair a mess and marks of red and beginning bruising worn over you both.

"We have to go!" Pope spoke desperately as you rushed to The Twinkie. Rather quickly, Pope and John B would reprimand you both before facing into their own conversation. All while you and JJ focused on each other. 

"I bet you are still thinking about it..." He mouthed to you. 

"I bet you want more..."

"I bet you'll let me.."

"I bet you wouldn't do anything now..." You spoke into his ear as he slipped his hand over your thigh. 

"I bet you'll be mine before I make you come again."

"You've already lost that..." He hesitated his touch. "I already am..."

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel@phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

MASTERLIST

JJ MAYBANK MASTERLIST

2ND JJ MAYBANK MASTERLIST

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[imagining-in-the-margins]

In the Dark (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer comforts Reader following an assault and the nightmares it provoked.

Request: reader is a SA survivor and spence is trying to help her heal; they talk about what changed etc A/N: I went a bit overboard with the metaphors (ba dum tsh). But on a serious note, I hope that this can bring comfort to the women who need it. Thank you to the anon for your patience. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Angst/Comfort Content Warning: 🚨 Metaphors of drowning, blade to throat, broken glass, cuts on throat, siren mythology, pirates; alludes to and mentions previous SA/r-pe; police encounters; PTSD, nightmares, crying 🚨 Please take care and remember you deserve to be happy, healthy, and safe. Fanfic is not worth sacrificing your mental well-being. Word Count: 2.2k

MASTERLIST

⚠️ PLEASE REFER TO CONTENT WARNINGS ABOVE ⚠️

I’ve suffered with seasickness ever since I was a child. In this metaphor, though, the sea is not made of water. Instead, it consists of the hungry stares of insatiable men. I could always feel their sickening stares the same way I could smell salt on the ocean. My stomach churned as I clung tightly to the side of myself, their vessel, wondering whether I’d fare better with the water.

I could hear the sirens screams tearing through my ears and I wonder why the men mistook it for singing. Bile rose through my throat in the shape of an objection. All that came out of my mouth was a waterfall. All that I tasted was sweat and blood and seawater.

I have no memory of jumping overboard. But as I was embraced by icy water, I remembered that Spencer once told me that asphyxiation is the most painful way to die. It didn’t feel that way, though. Instead, I felt at peace as the abrasive salt scrubbed my skin free from the layers of sludge left behind from their stares.

The sirens are still screaming, though.

I think I was, too.

I woke with a jolt in the shape of two arms wrapped tightly around my body. Instinct ignited in the worst way, and before I knew it my nails and teeth became talons and fangs. I sought to draw blood before I’d even heard his voice.

“It’s okay!”

He sounded scared. But in the moment, so was I. I could taste the saltwater of my tears and I mistook it for the ocean.

“Help!” I cried like there was some boat in the distance. I paradoxically clung to his hands while trying to rip my way free.

He didn’t budge as he yelled back, “It’s me! It’s Spencer!”

My body fell limp all at once. His didn’t.

Men rarely let their grip falter.

My stomach churned harder as I tried to swallow the resentment.

“It’s me. It’s alright. Everything is okay.”

He whispered when he spoke. His voice was meant to be soothing but the shame had already set in and drowned out anything else. The paranoia and memories were crawling under my skin for the whole minute he held me in the silence.

“Let go please.”

He didn’t hesitate. He let me go.

He didn’t move far, but the distance was both comforting and unsettling. I basked in the power of being alone while simultaneously berating myself for having said please at the end of it.

“Can I stay?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He wouldn’t hear it for what it was. That begrudging sound was anything but. It was a beg.

Please stay. Please stay. Please stay.

“Thanks,” he offers.

I wondered if that would ever be enough.

It doesn’t feel like allowing his staying a thing to be thanked for. If anything, I wanted him to leave because I knew what would happen next. I didn’t want to watch him struggle to explain why he loved me any more than I wanted to be alone.

Please leave. Please leave.

Please leave me.

But Spencer stayed. He stayed like he always does, sporting comfy, non-threatening pajamas so when the police respond to the inevitable report of a woman screaming for help, he doesn’t come off as suspicious.

They wouldn’t believe him anyway.

They never believe the right people.

I peered around the corner of the hallway with a blanket wrapped tightly around my body. I was not cold; I was dripping with sweat. My hair was matted to my skin, but I couldn’t let it go. I didn’t even want the air to touch me, much less the hungry stares of insatiable men.

“I’m really sorry,” Spencer said, and I hated him for apologizing the same way I had. “She had a nightmare. She didn’t mean to bother anyone.”

“We can’t ignore calls like this,” a strange voice said.

Goosebumps rippled over my skin, not from fear, but unbridled rage. My hair stood on end because it was too afraid to touch me in that state.

“I understand that, but I really don’t think it’s healthy for her to go over this again. It’s the middle of the night,” Spencer replied with his own heavy dose of resentment. When the other men started to speak, he swiftly cut them off. “Did the last officer not explain this in his report?”

The sound of my bare feet padding against hardwood told me that I was moving. I felt the cold winter air kiss my burning face and offer a relief that still felt like a punishment.

It smelled like cologne and gunfire.

In my head, all I could hear was the screaming from all the women they’d tossed overboard. They went quiet all at once when my hand found Spencer’s forearm.

“It’s alright, Spencer,” I offered with a fake smile. I turned to the other men, forcing myself to maintain the shape of my mouth.

My cheek twitched under the pressure.

“What do you want to know?”

Any answer offered would be fake and spoken softly, so as to not scare them.

The older of the two officers tilted his head, scrutinizing my false smile with an obvious distrust. He looked at me the way young men look at dolls before they tear their heads from their shoulders and light their hair on fire.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” he asked.

No. I was raped.

“Yes,” I said softly.

“Are you sure?” he persisted.

My lips trembled and my teeth fought to be bared. The smile collapsed into a flat line much like my heart had the last time I called and no one came.

Why didn’t you listen when it mattered?

“Yes,” I said with a hard swallow and a tired voice, “I had a nightmare.”

The mask had broken and taken any trust with it. The strange men had picked up the metaphorical pieces and were now holding them against my throat. I could feel the cutting sensation digging deep enough to sever vocal cords to stop the screaming.

The younger officer placed a heavy hand on Spencer’s shoulder as he stepped into our home.

Spencer instinctively stepped further in front of me. While I accepted his shelter, my eyes sharpened to daggers driving into the older man.

“Can you come with me into the other room?” his partner said to mine.

“I’d like him to stay,” I said firmly. My voice was louder than before, and so were my eyes. “I don’t like being alone with men I don’t know. Especially ones with badges and guns.”

They both took a step back. I reveled in the power that I got from their fear. The reprieve only lasted for a second before it was once again replaced by my own fear.

“Right, I’m sorry,” the young man offered.

Yeah right.

They were invited in even though they were not welcome. We sat at my kitchen table, and I stared at coffee rings burned into the wood— wondering whether the wood could feel the burning bottom of the mugs. I wondered if it could smell the coffee and the rot that would follow.

I told the officers I was sorry for the inconvenience, but I wasn’t. I didn’t feel anything at all. Nothing but the unsettling churning of salty waves in my stomach.

After I’d recounted enough of the gruesome details, they offered their condolences that felt empty. They told me that I had options. They promised me that it would be different this time.

I thought to myself that the only reason they believed me was because they saw the wounded animal in me. Whether they were good men or not, they were men, and they only feared the retribution of relentless waves pounding at their doors.

As they disappeared into the night, I wondered how they were so familiar with what broken women looked like.

I didn’t want to think about it anymore.

When they made their exit, I remained at the table. I stayed staring at the warped wood in front of me and wondered if it had ever dreamed of being driftwood.

The chair creaked against Spencer’s weight as he took the seat closest to me. He placed a hand palm up on the table in offering. After a few moments without an acceptance, he turned it against the table.

“How can I help you right now?” he asked.

I answered honestly.

“I don’t know. I don’t really know how I’m feeling, much less how to make it better.”

Spencer was quick to respond because he’d had this exact conversation more often than I’d ever know.

“That’s alright. That’s my job, not yours.”

My eyes finally moved from the wood where his hand rested. I turned to the man I loved more than anything and I found him there. His gaze was overflowing with kindness. I tried so hard to suppress the rage.

Like a current caught between ever-shifting fronts, my mind spun into chaos while trying to find a balance. The tears had long since turned to vapor that began forming dark, angry storm clouds.

Spencer stayed, like he always did. He waited patiently for the disaster, and it arrived.

“Why do you lie?” I asked with voice like crackling thunder.

“What?”

“Why do you lie to people this happens to?” I repeated.

That time his answer was far from prompt. He struggled to find anything to say that might be a sufficient response, but he was ultimately left with a heartfelt admission. 

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t understand.”

I bit my tongue before it could strike. I held onto the muscle until it calmed and tasted of iron. I arranged storming thoughts into patient requests because I knew that the man sitting next to me never intended to hurt me.

It would be different this time.

“When it happened to me, everyone said that it would get better,” I explained. My timbre became tumultuous as I tumbled my way against the quickly forming cyclone in my chest. “Everyone said that I would stop feeling so afraid every second of my life. And that part is true. The fear is gone. But it isn’t better, Spencer. It’s not.”

The ticking of the clock told me that time continued. I took in a deep breath and hoped it wouldn’t provoke a hurricane. I pleaded with myself to not leave destruction in my wake.

I was not afraid of men; I was not afraid of myself. I was suspended, stuck in a place where things like ticking clocks were nothing but a reminder that the world was continuing without me.

“No one ever talks about what happens after the fear fades away,” I said when Spencer didn’t speak. “The fear is terrible, but it keeps you alive. And when it’s gone you just…”

I placed both hands on the edge of the table and held on for dear life. My knuckles blanched against something beautiful that could turn to detritus in a second. I pressed down against the wood like we were nothing but jetsam, tossed aside to lighten the load of others.

I held the table because it seemed like the only thing left to keep me afloat. As the water dripped from my chin, I wondered if I would pull us both under.

“Drift,” I whispered softly, so as to not scare him, “You just drift.”

Spencer’s hand covered one of mine. His soft fingers massaged angry knuckles until they, too, became soft.

If my thoughts were an ocean, he did not fight the current. Spencer embraced crashing waves and offered the saltwater a place to rest. He projected light into the darkness, forever swaying and searching for the lost souls floating out to sea.

Spencer held my cheek gently and guided me back to him. I looked into his eyes and saw my own reflection in the dim light.

My lighthouse was not a warning but a voice beckoning to me to help me find my way home.

“I’m not going to let you drift away,” he promised, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Slowly, the rain poured over the sea. My tears broke into heavy sobs that seemed like they would never end. I threw myself onto Spencer like waves against the beach. I held him tightly, pulling pieces of him into my heart and leaving behind the flotsam of other men.

“I love you,” he said despite my never having asked.

I felt bile like saltwater rising in my throat. For a moment, I am worried that I might drown.

But then his lips pressed softly against my forehead as I clung to him. Sun-kissed sand felt warm and did not sting. His love stuck to my skin with the promise to leave whenever I wanted him to.

My lungs fill with fresh air that does not smell like rotten wood and regret.

I am breathing.

I am breathing.

I am breathing again.

(Tell me what you thought about this piece here!)

Looking for more comfort? Spread the love and check out my lovely friend @foxy-eva’s SFW Masterlist here. She has a whole section for comfort ❤️‍🩹 (and a bonus Tara comfort fic here)!

[kerubimcrepin]

Live-Read: The Remington Comic [PART 3]

TOME 12

What is this... thing? This is some very strange magic. We need to have a closer look. Do you really think you can escape that easily? Admit that... it's not like you can escape down there easy and avoid all the traps.

Joris's first reaction to this is literally "i NEED to know what the fuck that is. and if i have to take these two injured people there, so be it."

Also, yes, Ush's tower has a lot of traps. Love how Joris went up here with no plan of how to go down. I guess he really believes in his luck... just like an ecaflip.

When I saw a little guy climb the wall, I was… stunned. But to leave this place with a wounded man and a battered eniripsa, that's another matter. I know, but what do you propose? To fight? You saw me come in, and you didn't raise the alarm, which is quite unusual… I can still do it. Getting out of here before everything collapses would be better… for all of us. Obviously, the urgency of the situation benefits you. But we'll deal with that later. Just follow me!

"if you wanted to beat the shit out of me, you would have done it already." Never change, Joris.

These panels go out to my Ush enjoyer readers. Also: this comic takes place around 2 years before Wakfu the Animated Series. Ush is 7-9yo at best by the time of the OVA, and 10 by seasons 3-4. This might point to the fact that Ecaflip demigods age faster on their next lives.

That, or it might point to Ankama not giving a shit.

But he does look like a (tall) child in the OVA, and like a teen by time of S3-4

He has his muscular years in the future. Also I guess his cat lovers don't give a shit, but eh, there's bigger ethical concerns about their relationship than the age of his physical body.

Anyway, now onto what is the most important Joris moment of this comic, to me:

We must hurry. A terrible danger threatens bonta. It can't be worse than letting you escape.

Yeah, sure, lady. Joris and 2 criminals are a bigger danger to Bonta than a giant kaiju. Now, read closely, because this moment here has some fascinating Joris lines:

If Ush scares you so much, maybe it's time to run away with us. Yeah… no. It's not that simple. You're in love with him. That's why you can't leave your master. What?! No… but… you're crazy! It's okay to be in love. But I'm not in love with him!

(putting on tinfoil hat) Geez Joris, it almost sounds like you yourself have ecaflip issues. Like you've been unable to leave someone for centuries because you love someone too much, despite their flaws, and the way they may have hurt you. It almost sounds like you made peace with that. "It's okay to be in love", huh?

Context for the next scenes: After some time, they try to kill the kaiju, but it backfires, and Ush gets hurt instead.

nothing will stop it now… let's run. Opus, you're an eniripsa. Save him. Yes… Have mercy… Save him! After all the harm he's done me? What's the point? Please… A restorative word should give him back some energy… but I doubt he'll escape unscathed. Beating heart… You were right here. It's the best I can do… he'll last a few hours, but he'll… die of his burns. So maybe it's time for beating heart to be used.

Joris's expressions here are so beautiful... He doesn't seem too bothered by seeing Ush's burned, dying body. It's pretty funny.

You can wear Beating Heart around your neck, and it will give you all which you desire the most. Ahh… everything… that I desire? Or you can use it to annihilate this monster. If it swallows this object… then the power of it should stop it. I can do that, I'd rather die in glory than live through a defeat. I'm going to save Bonta! and nothing can stop me now, not even death. beating heart… beating heart… out of sight… out of mind… will you give your soul the time? beating heart… beating heart… will you give your time the soul? Ush... No...

@dullard and I have talked a lot about the relationship between Ush and Joris, despite how little of it is shown. (he is the Ush enjoyers I was mentioning. all the Ush screencaps are meant for him. hi.)

In those convos we came to the next thoughts: Ush probably views Joris as Kerubim's weird little son, or Kerubim and Atcham's pet. But also, despite Ush viewing Joris in a bit of a low light, he is much smarter and cooler than Kerubim and Atcham — truly the best thing to come from his cringe brothers. He likes toying with him more than he likes toying with Kerubim and Atcham — because Joris doesn't react easily, which makes his reactions more satisfying.

Despite that, they both care for Bonta, and being "a good person", in their own unique ways. So, it is easy for them to put aside their differences, for the most part.

I personally find it fascinating how subtle Joris is about suggesting Ush to sacrifice himself. As subtle as a wrecking ball.

You should never have stolen it from me. Yes… but thanks to us, it was used to save Bonta. And me… who will save me from the curse now that Ush is gone? You must seek the wisdom that remains in you, not the instinct that dominates you. this wisdom will one day overcome your curse.

[always sunny in philadelphia music begins playing] Grany stays a cat for at least the next 10 years, maybe longer, maybe forever.

...Joris has too much hope in these two.

Also, small personal comment: Joris is so pretty on the second image... Very cute head shape. You can just see his baby-ish cheeks, lmaoo.

Beating heart, beating heart… erase the weapons, bide your time.

This is like a renaissance painting. Some guys celebrating. Grany disgusted by Remington making out with his Opus (who seems to have left him by Wakfu series' time LMAOO), somewhere off-screen, there's a crying woman because Ush is fucking dead and Joris didn't bother telling her something like "Don't worry he'll remember you. Dying isn't much of an issue for him." Instead, Joris is going away, hands behind his back, reciting poetry again.

Beautiful.

Yes, master... Your meal just arrived. Nine lives... And I remain as devoted as ever to each of your reincarnations. You need a new name for this new life. (Hoping he won't be as bad-tempered as before.)

Bad news, bestie: he will be. His previous deaths hadn't fixed this either.

Tell me, young lady... You seem very sad. Oh... it's a long story. A love story? Great stories... are always love stories.

I kind of hate Joris for giving her the wonderful idea of wasting her mortal life on some immortal guy who might never love her back. But also. He did give advice based on first-hand experience. To him, spending your entire life with a demigod is both noble and awesome and fulfilling.

Except that's his family, he's also immortal like his family, and he kind of hates everyone else in the world who ISN'T his family, so I'll be real, I think he's biased.

[blurrymango]

Below the cut is. Some shit I just wrote.

You're eight years old and your twin just went into a coma. Their eyes are covered with bandages. Your parents keep them back home, in your room. Safe in their bed, right across from yours. Sometimes, it's easy to pretend they're just sleeping. That they'll wake up soon and things will go back to normal. But as time moves on, they don't wake up. You haven't spoken a word since the incident. Your parents don't notice it, or maybe they do, and they just don't care. It's quiet now. They can't speak. You won't either.

Your peers at school never liked either of you. Said you both weird, creepy. They notice your twin's absence. For some reason, they hate you even more. You get home, you go to your room, you ignore the body on the bed. You don't want to be in the same space as it. But you miss your sibling, and you don't want to be out in the house with your parents. Their hair grows out, you brush it, make sure it doesn't get tangled. You let your own hair grow too.

Sometimes, at night, you think you hear them speaking to you. You can't make out the words, you can't remember their voice. But you can hear them. You can't remember your own voice, either. Did the two of you sound the same? You know they used to talk a lot, you miss their voice. It's... been getting harder to recognize the body sharing your room as your sibling. It has your face, but not really. It's more like. A doll.

Sometimes, your parents catch you sleeping in the thing's bed. They tell you that you shouldn't disturb your sibling. It isn't your sibling, they were lively, bright, they had blue eyes and they liked to step on bugs. This thing in your room is a husk. It's barely alive. But it's warm. And you miss cuddling with your twin. You never hurt the thing. You're gentle with it. Careful not to disturb the tubes and wiring and whatever. You want to hurt it though, sometimes. It's frail, and pale, and lifeless. You wouldn't dare leave a single mark on its skin though. Your parents would have your head over it.

They make you get a haircut. It sucks. You cut the body's hair that night. You leave it longer than your own, though. Because it's more fun to play with if it's not short. Besides, their hair is better when it's longer than your own. You're going to be starting middle school soon. You want to tell it that. But you don't. You've forgotten how to speak, for one, and besides, talking to it would disturb the peace. You wouldn't speak to an inanimate object, you'd seem crazy. You probably are crazy though, because you can still hear it speaking to you at night. The words are louder but no less intelligible. It sounds like it's in pain. You are too.

Somehow, you make a friend at school. She has blue eyes. She likes to talk. She talks a lot, talks enough for the both of you. It's annoying. You draw things for her. You've punched a couple of bullies for her. But you don't let her touch you, it would be wrong, if you went home with someone else on your skin, you think. It might disturb the thing in the bed if there was residue of someone else. You've started taking care of the thing more often than your parents do, they think you're just being a good sibling, you just don't want them to touch what's yours.

Your friend goes home with you one day. Introduces herself to your parents. Funny, you don't remember if she ever told you her name, and you don't pay attention when she tells it to your parents either. They tease you about having a girlfriend. You feel angry at that. They think you're just flustered. She laughs, tells them you're just friends. The two of you hang out in the backyard, you're not ready to introduce her to. Your... twin. Yet. You almost don't even want her to look at them. She doesn't deserve to see them, delicate and monstrous. She doesn't deserve to go through that, it would scare her.

Somehow, she got a crush on you. You didn't even notice, your mind is stuck in your room with the doll most of the time. She comes over, and asks if the two of you can go to your room. You shut down, unable to stop her from dragging her into the space, you don't even notice her hand gripping your wrist, either. You're with her on your bed, her presence violates the air around you. What if her being here disturbs your twin? She's about to kiss you when her eyes finally glance at the other bed. She screams. She runs out of the house. The residue of her existence is hard to remove, you nearly cry while trying. You hope she didn't frighten the. Body. It's just a body. It can't be frightened. You have to remind yourself.

She doesn't speak to you anymore after that. She avoids you like the plague. You're grateful for it. She wasn't right for you. Her eyes the wrong shade of blue, her hair not dark enough. She won't be ruining yours afternoons and stealing away your attention from what's important. So delicate, and fragile. And warm. But not warm enough. In your mind, the body is still the same age your twin was, but you know that's not true. Time still passes, even though both of you are stagnant.

Puberty comes to the body first, with you waking up to blood all over the two of you. You scream, thinking that you had hurt it in your sleep. You nearly tear your vocal chords from it, even. Your parents rush in, no longer fazed to see you in the thing's bed. In your distress, you're thankful for their intrusion. They explain to you that your twin just got their first period. They say "she'll" be a woman soon, that "she's" growing up. You don't want that. You don't want that. They tell you that you'll be reaching puberty soon as well. That you'll be becoming a young man soon.

It terrifies you. The changes happening your bodies. Your parents give you the talk, and then tell you that you might be getting your own room soon. It's too much. It's too much all at once. You lock yourself in your room for two days. Only leaving the bed to get water from the bathroom connected to your room and to pee. Well, that's not true. You keep up your duties, taking care of the body. Your father finally manages to burst into the room on the third day. You're crying.

That night, you're too hungry to ignore. So you sneak into the kitchen, stop when you hear voices in the living room. Not the normal voices at night, your parents. Your mother is sobbing, your father sounds sad. They're talking about something. They're talking about your twin. Which is nothing out of the ordinary, they talk about the thing all the time. Always sad. Always sorrowful. Like they're mourning. It's sickening. But no. It's different. They're talking about you as well. Saying that this has "gone on long enough" and that they need to get both of you into the hospital. Your twin into a real hospital, you into an asylum. They're worried that you might do something terrible to your twin.

They're right, of course. You do something. But it's not terrible. It's not. It's an act of love. Nothing has felt right until now. Nothing quite as good as thrusting into the body's heat. You wonder why you didn't do this sooner. It feels amazing. Of course, the plan was to take the body and run away, but you feel so tired afterward that all you can do is pull out and lay down. You were gentle, being as inexperienced as you were. They bled, you felt guilty, almost enough to stop all together. But you didn't. You've been so good to this thing, so kind, you figured it's about time it did something for you. And it did. You had your first orgasm. Inside of it. You felt absolutely amazing.

You wake up to pain. And screaming. Your mother crying. Your father is angrier than you've ever seen him. It's terrifying. What the hell is going on? Your brain struggles to catch up. Your father's fist makes contact with your eye, and your remember last night. Right. Incest. You committed an act of incest. Of rape. And now you're being beaten for it. You hear your mother, full of sorrow and rage, screaming at you. "How could you do that to her?! To your own sister!?" It's funny, because that thing isn't your "sister", it isn't even your twin. Hasn't been since it fell asleep and never woke up. It's not even human, in your eyes. It's a thing. Of course, your parents wouldn't see it that way, now would they? They haven't had to spend every night in the same room as it. In the beginning they even scolded you for wanting to sleep somewhere else. They made you live with it and then they never bothered doing anything about your obviously declining mental state. So why are they so surprised? So angry? 5 years of neglecting you and they're shocked when you do something they think is bad? Your final thought before passing out is that this is their fault.

When you wake up next, you're in a sterile unfamiliar room. Your doll nowhere to be seen. A doctor sits beside you, you're afraid and confused and angry. He tells you that you're going to be staying there for a while. That you'll be getting the help you need. You're not paying much attention until he mentions your twin. You're not going to be able to see them, after what you did. You feel as though your heart has been ripped from your chest. You feel like you're dying. It's like your 8 years old all over again and you can't take it. You lash out. You attack the doctor.

The next years are a blur. You're drugged up most of the time. Hardly aware of anything except that your twin isn't around. You don't keep track of time. You don't keep track of anything. Your mind is in shambles. You think you see your parents sometimes. They're always angry at you. You want to crawl out of your skin. You want to die. You still don't speak. You won't speak. The only thing that's clear is at night, it's almost like you're back home because you can hear the thing whispering to you again. Except now, the words are clear. They want you to come find them. They forgive you, not for what you did during your final night together, no, they liked that, they forgive you for putting them in the coma in the first place. Oh. Right. It was your fault, wasn't it. But they forgive you. It's ok. They miss you.

You remember now, how it happened. You remember how you did it, but not why. The two of you had been on a camping trip with your parents. You were both exploring away from the campsite. It was nearing sunset. You had a rock. It was heavy, but small. You remember how easy it was, how satisfying it was for you to plunge it into their eye. Deeper. Deeper until they stopped screaming. They went limp. Both of you were covered in blood. Why did you do that? By the time your parents found you both, they were beyond truly saving. But you didn't know that at the time. You don't know why you did that to your own flesh and blood. The whole time, you were unaware that it was your own fault. You didn't know. You didn't realize. Why why why why why.

When you're to think clearly again, it's been ten years since the incident. You're not at home, you're not in the asylum either. You're in a hospital. It's night. Your twin is in a bed in front of you. How did you get here? You don't remember. You're holding a gun. How did you get that? Everything is mush from that final night you spent with them to now. You're different now, bigger. Taller and stronger and it feels wrong because when you look at them they still look so delicate, so frail. Why did you do it? Why did you ruin their life? You need to fix this. You stumble to them, your mind in a daze. Two bullets. Two bullets and you'll both be out of your misery. Two bullets and you'll be at peace. Shooting them should be agonizing. But it's easy, it's as easy as when you were eight and in the woods. You don't give yourself time to think about what you're doing after you shoot them. You simply aim the gun at yourself and shoot.

When you wake up, you shouldn't be waking up, but you're eight. You're in a hospital bed. Your twin is in a bed across from you. You don't remember anything. But you know that you've missed them. They smile at you like they know something you don't. It looks wrong. They look too pale. The room smells like death, old and rotting and full of dust. But they're smiling at you. And you smile too. They tell you it's been too long, that they've missed you. And you don't know what they're talking about. You finally look into their eyes. Red meeting blue. It feels wrong. Everything feels so very wrong. But you missed them too. And you're happy to be together with them. And they're happy too. All that matters is that you're together, right?

Right?