#start talking in a completely different way

[iichfilwypj]

lover | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: percy is completely whipped here! maybe he's not very accurate or himself but im a slut for romantic shit yk ღ wc: 1.658 sorry loves dreamy girls masterlist!

After years, New Year's Eve was finally different.

She'd expected the usual—warmth at camp, chatting with the campers—but Percy invited her to spend the week with his family instead.

And Sally’s letter and Estelle’s drawing made it impossible to refuse.

Percy had planned every detail perfectly. His mom made her favorite dish, Estelle eagerly talked about seeing “The Sleeping Princess” again, and Percy patiently explained the day’s events to his family. 

Because, of course, he had something else up his sleeve.

One last surprise.

Just before midnight, Percy sat beside her as Estelle slept in her lap. The adult's conversation around them faded, and she absentmindedly stroked the little girl’s back to keep herself awake.

When she felt Percy nearby, she looked up to find him brushing a strand of hair from her face. A warm smile appeared as their eyes met.

“She’s so lovely,” she murmured.

“Mm-hmm,” Percy replied, leaning against her. “Does she look like me?”

“Just a bit more adorable.” They shared a quiet laugh.

Then Percy, his voice trembling slightly, said, “Hey, dreamy. Wanna get out of here?” His eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nerves.

She chuckled, unsure if he was serious. It reminded her of a movie they had watched together, where the guy said the same line to  take the girl out of the party and lead her to something more fun.

But before she could protest, he gently lifted Estelle from her lap and took her hand, leading her toward the door.

“Wait, it’s almost midnight—”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes but—”

“Awesome! Mom, we’re leaving!”

If the the living room was beautifully decorated, the terrace was out of this world.

Percy was relieved that no one had claimed her for their celebrations. The lights lit up the place, contrasting with the soft snow falling gently on the city, transforming everything below into a sea of calm and white.

In one corner, a big blanket rested on the floor, surrounded by scattered cushion. It was small perfect escape.

The cool night air couldn’t reach the warm stillness of it, where the candles burned like magic and the sheets hanging above shielded everything from the real world.

Stunned, she observed Percy walk toward the corner, unaware of the trembling in his legs, his shallow breaths, or the tears that threatened to escape his eyes.

Not because of the cold, but because of the weight of emotions—fear, excitement, all tangled.

The old record player, silent until then, sprang to life with a gentle crackle, the music flowing through the place like a whisper of a forgotten memory.

She couldn’t help but smile, feeling reassured by its familiarity.

The melody sank deep into both their hearts on that terrace, softening them just a bit more. Their eyes locked, his green ones asking—or perhaps pleading—for her to come closer, be near him. 

And she did, it was everything she wanted.

They both found their place on the blanket, cozy in each other's warmth. Their legs were tangled like roots, something unbreakable against the world beneath them, which began to roar with the arrival of a new year, a fresh start.

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

“This is lovely,” The daughter of Hypnos rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as the weight of his hand on her back filled her with calm. She couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his skin. “Did you make this?”

This is our place, we make the rules

“Yes. I know this is your first holiday away from camp in a long time, I wanted it to be unforgettable.” He whispered, burying his face into the girl's hair.

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

He heard her nervous laugh and couldn’t help but ask. “What?”

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

“Why?” she admitted, letting the question escape. She didn’t want to make herself a victim, but she was overwhelmed by all this kindness. “Why so much effort?”

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And he just stared at her. He observed her, took in every part of her.

He studied her face, her expression, her soul. He saw the surprise in her slightly raised eyebrows, the gratitude in the small smile on her lips, the doubt and fear in the way her nose scrunched.

He saw it all.

And ah, take me out, and take me home

And he risked it all.

You're my, my, my, my

“I mean, it's beautiful, and no one's ever done this for me, but—”

Lover.

“I love you.” 

It came out so naturally, so quietly, but with an intensity that made her chest tighten. The world seemed to hold its breath. 

She stared at him, wide-eyed, her mind a blur of thoughts. The snow around them fell heavier now, and as the music swirled, it was his words that rang out loudest.

“I—” She couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to tell him everything she felt. Her mind raced, emotions tangled in a knot she couldn’t untangle.

But he already knew.

A tender smile appeared, and his eyes stayed on hers. The heat of his hand on her back seeped into her cold, flushed face as he watched the tears threatening to fall.

And while he hated seeing her tears, the way her hands gripped desperately his arm made him wish he could cry alongside her.

“I love you,” he repeated. “It's the only thing I can do when I'm near you. And even when I'm not, I find you in everything. In the music I listen, in the words I speak, in what I do. In what I think—for Aphrodite, you live in my mind.”

“Percy—” she breathed, her voice unsteady as she reached for his hand.

“Please, just let me finish,” he murmured, his voice trembling under the weight of his words.

When she nodded, he drew in a deep breath and carried on.

“No one, not a single person, had ever reached my heart. Close? Yes, but you—the moment I saw you, you took it. You took everything I had.”

His girl let out a broken sob, unable to stop as the tears streamed down in torrents, and his gentle hands caught them. His own tears fell, cold and frozen in that moment.

The bells marking the year's final minute started to chime, but they felt like a distant echo, blending with the rhythm of their heartbeat.

Yet, he pressed on.

“And I don’t want it back. Never. It’s yours. Yes, everything is yours. Because—” he interlaced their fingers harder. “Because you’ve made me feel things I didn’t know I could feel. Every emptiness I’ve ever felt disappeared. And every heartbeat that ever meant anything, became you.”

His thumb softly glided over the back of her hand, sending a shiver up her spine. His forehead almost met hers.

She felt his breath on her skin, and she couldn’t help but shut her eyes, letting the sound of his voice and the melody wrap around her like a gentle wave.

But he tapped her nose with his, prompting her to open her eyes. The tears made her vision hazy, but the bright green she saw before her reassured her that everything was fine.

“And now, my life—it's no longer mine. It’s no longer the one I had. It’s the one you’ve built. Every piece of me, every fragment of what I once was, now belongs to you.”

She could feel the fragility in his hands, the quiver in his fingers, and it made her want to hold him even closer, to embrace him until the oxygen was gone, until the birds stopped singing and the universe wiped away everything but them, everything but that moment.

Everything but their love.

“So take it. Take me entirely, all of me, I’m yours." he concluded. "I always have been.”

He was silent, almost still. His eyes were closed, now afraid of what her reaction might reveal.

And the girl smiled, though it turned more into a pout. Her fingers ceased holding onto his hands to lift his chin, something he did constantly to her. He didn’t open his eyes, but let himself be guided.

“Percy,” She gazed at him, and her voice came out in a whisper, as though fearing the magic of the moment would break. 

Without hesitation, they leaned even closer, following the delicate touch of their skin. The gap between them almost completely disappeared.

At last, he opened his eyes. She couldn’t contain what she felt, the urge to tell him everything she had been holding in for so long, though it didn’t measure up to what he had said to her.

The sound of the final five bells echoed, followed by the shouts from the balconies.

"I love you," she said, her heart rising in her throat, her voice quivering.

Five!

“I love you in ways I can’t express with words or gestures. I love you as if my life depended on it—”

Four!

“No, I love you because my life depends on it. Without you, I am nothing.”

Three!

“I once said that you’re the best dream I could wish for—but you're more than that. You're my reality, my light, my existence.”

Two!

“I will take everything from you, if you promise to take everything from me,”

One!

“And keep it forever. Keep me forever, I'll do the same."

Happy New Year!

And finally, she kissed him, their lips meeting in a soft, slow kiss, a kiss brimming with unspoken promises and shared emotions.

It was different than others; it was a start of something more deep. In the delicate pressure of their lips, everything they had ever felt for each other was expressed without a single syllable, their hearts speaking the language that only they understood.

There was no more cold or snow—only the heat of their bodies pressed together, the rhythmic beating of their hearts in sync, and the gentle intertwining of their souls. 

In the end, they pulled away; not because they wanted to, but because the air had become essential, because their hearts needed a moment to calm, despite the urge to stay lost in each other. 

“Happy New Year,” she whispered, as he responded with a smile, his hand reaching up to caress her face again. 

“Happy New Year, my love,” he murmured in return, his voice low, only for her to hear.

“Percy?” she sniffled.

“Yes?”

”Would you be my lover?” 

“I already am,” he leaned forward, pressing a soft peck to her lips. “Since the first day, until the stars fade.”

I CRIED WRITING THIS GOD i think it's so cute. seriously, i want apologize again for disappearing like that, out of nowhere. i feel much better now and wanted to come back with something special. i hope you liked it! also, this doesn’t mean the series is over, they are my babies, and if i have to write about the 70 years they will spend together in my heart, i will do it!

[y3sterdaysproblem]

in my head - m.s.

part two of avery’s playlist series

pairing: reader x matt sturniolo

cw: alcohol, smut (unprotected sex, f!receiving oral, fingering), explicit language

wc: 6k

in my head, i see you all over me

in my head, you fulfill my fantasy

It was like a sixth sense, really, the way you could feel when anybody was staring at you when you weren’t looking. It was something you’d always had a feeling for since you were young, like any time a pair of eyes landed on you, you could feel it burning into your skin.

It was also something you had learned to ignore when you were around your friends, always feeling a constant stare when your head was turned, blue eyes unable to tear themselves away from your frame. You were used to it at this point, the way he looked over at you any chance he got. You were also used to him refusing to admit that he was looking at you, no matter how many times you caught him staring, he’d always deny it, say he was just spaced out or looking past you. You never believed him.

Today was no different, even in the crowded house with music blaring and your mind fuzzy from the alcohol you’d consumed, you could still feel Matt staring at you from where he was leaned against the wall, a fruity seltzer held in his hand as he peered your way. The two of you have been friends for years, but lately it felt like you’ve drifted apart due to how weird he’s gotten around you, and now when you came over, you mostly just talked to his brothers, Nick and Chris, since Matt had always excused himself after you caught him staring.

Matt was always a little bit odd, but he’d gotten more so over the last few months, and you’d gotten sick of trying to reel him back in, finally just deciding to let him pull away from the friendship if that’s what he really wanted.

Alcohol had always made you a little bit bolder, though, and today was no exception, so when you caught Matt’s eye across the room and he actually held your gaze, you couldn’t help yourself from marching over until you were right in front of him, your eyes determined as you approached him. He kept his eyes locked on you, an almost amused smirk playing on his lips at your attempt to be serious.

“Matt,” you start sternly, crossing your arms once you’re in front of him. He’s thoroughly enjoying the way you try to act bigger than you are, though he can tell by the glazed over look in your eyes that it wasn’t raw confidence that had you running up on him, but more of a liquid courage influence. He didn’t mind, in fact, he thought it was amusing. He stays silent, only raising his eyebrows as he peers at you over his can, waiting for you to continue. “We need to talk.”

Matt finishes his drink and sets it down on a nearby table before crossing his arms to match your stance, chest puffing out as his eyes narrowed. “About what?” He inquires, head tilting like a dog.

You weren’t deterred by his attempts to be dominating, though. “About your fucking staring problem.”

He raises an eyebrow like he’s at a complete loss. “What staring problem?”

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, dropping your arms to your sides in disbelief. “You think I don’t see you staring at me all the time? I can feel your eyes burning a hole in the back of my head!”

Matt is fully smirking at you now, his expression teasing. “I never stare at you. I look at you sometimes, like now when you’re talking, but I’m never staring at you.”

The distinct presence of alcohol makes your eyes feel heavy and your brain moves slower, only able to process his words a few seconds after he said them, but you refused to be gaslit into thinking that you were wrong, that you didn’t see what you know you saw.

“Don’t lie to me,” you say loudly, reaching up to point a finger in his face. “You can’t take advantage of me just because I’m drunk.”

The next words that he said are what really throw you off guard, to the point where you almost blamed the alcohol for it, and if you were even one drink further into your night you would’ve, but your comprehension levels were still sharp enough to catch the weight of his words as he leans in close to your ear.

“If I wanted to take advantage of you while you were drunk, lying isn’t the way I’d do it.”

It felt like the ground beneath you had shifted, like an unspoken boundary had been crossed and you had no idea how to react to it. Except your mouth moved faster than your brain, and you spoke before you could even think to stop yourself.

“What?!” You shriek, narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?!”

Matt rolls his eyes at your volume before he swiftly forces your body in the other direction with his hands and swings an arm over your shoulder. “It means we need to get some water in you.”

You’re offended at his suggestion, scoffing loudly as he led you into the kitchen, keeping a strong grip on you. “I am not that drunk, Matt. Could pass a sobriety test with ease.”

“You’re drunk enough to get confrontational, that’s how I know you need to slow down,” Matt retorts, grabbing an unopened water bottle from the counter and handing it to you.

You want to refuse, to shake your head and push his hand away, but when you turn your head to look up at him, the room spins a little bit, and you know it’s probably for the better that you have some water. Once you do grab it from his hands, you drank almost half of the bottle in one go before handing it back to Matt, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “There, happy now?” You sass.

Matt sets the bottle down on the counter, his other arm still swung over your shoulders. “Sure, now go dance with Nick or something,” he comments, nodding his head in his brother’s direction.

Your confrontational behavior hasn’t dissipated, though, in fact it only feels spurred on by the way Matt is staring down at you, like it’s funny the way you tried to talk to him, like he thinks your attempts at calling him out are adorable. It’s not adorable, you’re serious, and the fact that he doesn’t think you are has you heating up all over again.

In a quick motion, you grab his hand from your shoulder and start walking away, your grip on him tight as you drag him through the crowds of people and into his room. With all the strength you can muster, you pull him in through the doorway and push him in front of you, slamming the door after you’re both in the room.

“I am done dealing with you staring at me all the time and acting like you’re not!” You snap loudly at him, arms crossing over your chest once again. “I may be drunk and confrontational, but you’re drunk, too, so let’s just get this conversation over with so we can go back to being like we were before.”

Matt rolls his eyes at you, huffing like a child. “I’m not as drunk as you,” is all he says.

“Oh, please, like you weren’t just leaning up against the wall out there, or using your arm around me to keep your balance.” You point a finger at him accusatorially. “You’re leaning on your desk right now!”

“Yeah, because my ankle hurts,” Matt shrugged it off, but the way his eyes closed as he spoke made it all the more obvious what the truth was.

By the time his eyes reopen, you’ve marched over to him, your bodies only a couple feet apart now. “Enough. Stop fucking staring all the time or tell me why you do it.” You demand.

He’s getting frustrated again, and you can see it in the way he sucks in a deep breath, like he’s trying to stop himself from getting angry, or maybe he’s trying to stop himself from telling you the truth, trying to fight against the alcohol swimming through his bloodstream. He’s close to cracking, and all you need to do is push a little harder.

“Did I do something to make you mad? You barely talk to me anymore, and every time you do it’s like someone’s twisting your arm behind your back to do it.” Your voice is a bit quieter now, back to a normal speaking volume with a hint of sadness seeping in. “I used to be the closest to you and now it’s a chore to even get you to talk to me.”

Matt groans and leans his head back on his shoulders for a moment before picking it back up and meeting your gaze again. “You didn’t make me mad,” he replies.

“Then what?!” You push, hands flopping to your sides in annoyance. “Why are you so weird now?! You never talk to me, you’re always fucking looking at me and pretending you’re not, you’re always trying to avoid being in the same room as me alone and I am so fucking sick of-“

“What do you want me to say?!” Matt interrupts loudly, pushing himself off the desk and one step closer to you. Your eyes widen in shock as the distance starts to close between you, not expecting him to be so loud. Though the next words out of his mouth had your mind reeling and wondering if maybe you both were a little too intoxicated to be having this conversation. But maybe it was perfect.

“Do you want me to say that every fucking time I look at you, all I can think about is how much better you’d look underneath me? On top of me?” He starts lowly, taking another step closer. “Do you want me to say that I get carried away looking at you because I’m fantasizing about what I want to do to you? That I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want to make you feel good and hear your pretty voice moaning my name?”

Your heart feels like it’s stuck in your throat as you listen to him, pounding away and making your hands shaky, adrenaline running through you at his admission. It was the last thing you expected him to say, a confession of desire, the words ripping all of the air from your lungs.

You’re brought back when the backs of your knees hit his bed, causing you to fall backwards on it, hands catching you and resting behind you. The switch in angle has you staring upwards at Matt, the man that was your best friend, lashes fluttering as he gazed down at you, eyes darkening at the sight of you.

“Matt…” you whisper, shaking your head, unsure of what to say.

“You feel fucking stupid pushing so hard now, don’t you?” Matt sneers, leaning over so he’s hovering above you, faces inches apart. “Should’ve just left it the fuck alone.”

You swallow thickly, trying to ignore your nerves and the way the hair on your arms was standing straight up, goosebumps forming from how close he was to you.

“I don’t feel stupid,” you say quietly, pausing for a moment as you stare into his eyes, taking in his expression. His jaw is clenched tight, like he’s angry, but you know it’s his way of trying to hide the way he really feels; scared of how you feel. His eyes are searching yours for any sign of feeling the same, like he’s desperate for any sense of reciprocation. His chest is heaving as he leans over you, trying to breathe through the way his heart was racing, willing it to slow down in vain. You take a deep breath yourself, readying yourself for the shift.

“Just wish you told me sooner.”

Your hand comes up to grab onto his shirt to pull him in, closing the distance between you both, lips crashing together. He loses his balance when you pull him down, hands stopping himself on either side of you when he pushes you down flat on the bed, kissing you back like he’s waited his whole life for this moment.

His lips are molded to yours perfectly, only parting to let his tongue slip into your mouth and meet your own, tasting the drink he finished right as you walked up to him. His left arm shifted so he was resting on his elbow next to your head, right hand coming up to cup the back of your head, fingers splayed out in your hair as he used his grip to keep you close to him.

Even though you initiated the kiss, you’re still taken aback at how desperate his movements are, taking a moment to collect yourself and kiss him back just as enthusiastically, right hand keeping its grip in his shirt while your other one comes up to mirror his, tangling in his hair.

“Matt,” you gasp in between kisses, whining softly when his lips trail over your cheek and down your neck, leaving soft but hungry kisses across your skin.

“Wanted you for so long,” he groans, teeth nipping softly before he continues his descent, pushing your shirt up until it’s bunched under your arms, moving his lips between the valley of your breasts. “You look so fucking good tonight, was like torture watching you walk around like I didn’t want to rip your clothes off.”

The giggle you let out is breathless, a mix of laughter and a whine, head tilted down as you watch him as he kisses down your stomach, hands moving to slide down your waist, gripping your hips when he reaches them. “You can take my clothes off if you want to,” you say nervously. His attention is immediately drawn back to your face, movements pausing at your words. “Yeah?” He rasps, voice low and quiet.

You nod, pushing yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he slides down your body and onto his knees between your legs, hands rubbing over your thighs. Your bottom half was adorned in a black mini skirt that already started riding up from the way he settled between your legs, your thong peeking out from underneath it, clinging to your skin from the way you were already getting soaked.

“This skirt looks so fucking good on you,” Matt praises, slipping off the end of the bed until he was on his knees, pulling you closer towards the edge until his face was only a few inches above your core. “Wondering why I’m looking at you when this shit barely covers your ass.”

“I wore it for you,” you admit shyly, watching as his hands slid up and down your skin, fingers gripping into your flesh every few seconds, like he couldn’t believe he was finally in this position, lips dragging up the skin of your inner thighs slowly.

“Oh, yeah?” He mumbles, almost absentmindedly.

“Mhm,” you reply, watching as his face gets closer and closer to where you want him. “Was hoping maybe if I dressed hot enough you’d finally crack, get the balls to shoot your shot.”

Matt drags his nose up your inner thighs, kissing occasionally until his face is right pressed into your panties, the thin fabric being the only barrier separating your bodies from what you both craved so badly. His tongue slips past his lips to flatten on your folds through your underwear, a small groan leaving his lips. “Was gonna shoot my shot anyway, just thought I’d have time for one more drink before you got all bitchy on me.”

A gasp leaves your lips at the feeling of his tongue on you, wanting nothing more than to rip the flimsy thong off and fling it across the room. “Calling me a bitch with your head between my legs is a little ridiculous, Matt,” you tease breathlessly, keeping your eyes locked on him. His hands move to push your skirt upwards before his fingers tuck themselves into the waistband of your panties, eyes shooting up to meet yours. “Sorry, next time I call you a bitch I’ll make sure I’m not about to eat you out.”

You scoff at his sarcastic response and roll your eyes, expecting nothing less than him making some snarky comment. His nose dips down and buries itself in the fabric again, his eyes fluttering shut as he sucked in a deep breath, moaning on the exhale. “Holy fuck.” He groans out before he tucks his fingers into the front of your underwear and ripped them apart, exposing your dripping pussy to him, drooling in anticipation.

“Are you…” you stare down at him incredulously, eyes wide. “Are you smelling me?”

Matt looks back up at you with an exasperated expression, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?” He replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you have any idea how good pussy smells? How good it tastes? God, I could get off on that alone.”

You shake your head in disbelief at him, to which he releases a small laugh, shooting you a wink before dipping his head back down and pressing his lips between your folds, planting a small kiss on your clit as his hands push your thighs apart, spreading you wide open to be used by him. “Taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything. His hands wrap around your thighs and his fingers dig into the skin on the inside of your legs, kneading them softly as his tongue starts to work between your folds, quiet moans leaving him as the taste of you flooded his senses.

The sounds you made weren’t as quiet, the volume of your whines starting to fill the room, grateful for the music blaring through the rest of the house to drown you out. Your head fell back on your shoulders as your eyes fluttered shut, focusing on his tongue on you and the way his hands never stopped moving, whether it was his thumbs stroking over your skin or his palms rubbing up and down.

“Fuck, Matt…” you whimper, dropping your elbows out from underneath you so your back was flat on the bed, body already reacting to the way his mouth was moving on you, thighs starting to shake on either side of him.

He was eating you out in a way you’ve never felt before, his actions hungry and fueled by lust, lips and tongue working in tandem as he practically made out with your drooling core, the squelching of his mouth meeting your heat filing your ears. “Matt,” you warn, reaching down to grab at his hair, pushing him off of you.

He pulls away reluctantly, staring down at you with glazed over eyes, his mouth and chin glistening from the mixture of his saliva and your arousal. “What?” He questions, furrowing his eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, breathing heavily. “Just close ‘n I don’t wanna finish yet.”

Matt’s confused at your words, staring down at you like he doesn’t quite understand, head tilting slightly as his lips parts to speak. “That’s kind of the whole point of what I’m doing,” he states.

“But… I wanna have sex,” you reply like it’s obvious.

“I thought that’s what we were doing?” Matt lets go of your thighs and runs a hand through his hair, growing more puzzled. “Do you not want me to eat you out?”

Your cheeks are darkening in embarrassment the more this conversation drags on, your hands coming up to cover your face. “I do! You’re really good at it! I just don’t want to cum before you actually… fuck me.”

“Why?” Matt snorts out a laugh, crawling onto the bed and hooking his hands under your thighs again, dragging you up the bed until your head was almost at the headboard, his own body moving to hover over yours. “I’ll just make you cum again. And again…” he leans down until his lips are touching your ear, one hand moving to rub over your clit gently, his two middle fingers rubbing through your slit. “And again, til you can’t even think straight.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he manhandles you, the way he pushed your body up the bed like it was nothing creating a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your stomach. “Really?” You questioned quietly, not used to men even really caring about getting you off even once.

“Mhm,” Matt hums into your ear, lips trailing down over your neck. “That okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod your head quickly, nervously. “Just never came more than once before.”

Matt snorts against your collarbone, dipping his two fingers inside of you, your pussy putting up no resistance to him, sucking him in greedily. “Probably because you sleep with a bunch of fucking losers.” He comments, following up his words by sucking a mark into the fleshy mound on your chest barely covered by your bra anymore.

Your back arches off the mattress when his fingers curl inside you, a loud whimper leaving your lips as your hands grip the sheets on either side of you. “Oh my god,” you moan out, ignoring the comment he made. You’ll have to remember to scold him later.

“How ‘bout you just lay there and keep making those pretty noises, yeah?” Matt smirks, sliding down the bed again until his mouth is back on your soaked heat, groaning against your clit when the taste hits his tongue again.

Obsessed doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what he’s feeling, how his mind is absolutely reeling from the way he’s got you coming apart underneath him. The way you taste, the way you sound, it’s all making his mind fuzzy, the buzz from the alcohol fading into the distance as he becomes more pussy drunk than anything in the moment. He’s trying to keep himself from losing control and fucking you into oblivion, grounding himself by listening to the sweet sounds you made.

“So good, Matt, right there,” you cry out, chest heaving as he brings you back to the brink of your orgasm, knuckles turning white against his black sheets. “Fuck, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, one of your hands coming down to thread in his hair, this time holding him against you instead of pulling him off.

“Mhmm,” he moans into your skin, tongue lapping up your juices fervently, fingers keeping pace inside of you.

The way his voice rumbled against your clit was all you needed to send you over the edge, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you moaned loudly, thighs trembling around Matt’s head.

He coaxed you through it, fingers and tongue unrelenting until you were lax and whimpering against the bed, legs twitching from overstimulation with every movement. Matt pulled his lips away, placing one more small kiss on your clit before looking up at you, smiling at how spent you looked, hair sticking to your forehead and your teeth buried in your hand from trying to keep quiet. “You covered up your pretty mouth,” he fake pouts, crawling back up the bed so his face is above yours. “Now I gotta make you cum again.”

You stare up at him breathlessly, watching as his face comes back into view, his expression dark as he stares at you. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Didn’t wanna be too loud.”

“No such thing,” Matt smiles, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips softly. You melt into the kiss, instantly returning it and tasting yourself on his mouth, something you’d hated in the past but felt immensely turned on by in this situation. He only kisses you for a few moments before he pulls away and gazes down at you again. “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

You nod excitedly, agreeing instantly. He climbs off the bed and pulls his shirt over his head before walking to his bedside table to grab a condom out of the drawer, throwing it next to you on the bed. Your eyes watch the small foil pack as it lands next to you, feeling your heart rate pick up at the realization that this was actually happening. You were about to let your best friend have his way with you in his room during a fucking party, not caring who would hear, and especially not caring about what this would do to your relationship in the moment. Those were consequences you’ll face later, but right now all you could think about was having Matt buried deep inside you.

“Matt?” You sit up slowly and look up from the condom, letting your eyes trail over him, landing on his hands that were working on the button on his jeans, then slowly dragging his zipper down. He hums in response, urging you to continue. You clear your throat nervously, reaching out to pick up the condom. “I haven’t been on birth control for years just for you to not fuck me raw.”

Matt’s lips part as he sucks in a small breath, watching as you tossed the condom back onto the bedside table before smiling up at him. “You serious?” He asks, pushing his jeans down until they fall on their own, stepping out of them before kneeling back over you, his hand coming up to hold onto the back of your neck. You nod again, just as enthusiastic as the first. “Yeah,” you respond softly. “Wanna feel you inside me.”

Matt groans and grabs your shirt to finally pull it fully off, throwing it across the room before he helps you out of your bra as well. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he grumbles, shoving you back down onto the bed. A small giggle leaves your lips as he throws you down, hair fanning out over the pillow. The only thing you were left in was the black mini skirt that Matt was obsessed with, the material shoved up and bunched around your hips. It was completely out of the way of what was important, and Matt had no intentions of removing it from you.

Your folds and inner thighs were completely soaked when you spread your legs open for Matt to settle between, the wet skin glimmering in the dim lights of his room, a sight that Matt had to force himself to tear his eyes from so he wouldn’t finish too quickly. “You have no idea how pretty your pussy is, do you?” He mumbled, pushing his briefs just low enough for his dick to spring out, so hard it almost hurt when the cool air hit it. Your ears burned hot at his words, shaking your head gently. “No, I don’t. Wanna tell me how pretty it is?” You reach down to grab the backs of your knees, pulling your legs up and apart to expose yourself to him even more.

“Fuck,” he groans, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry but I’m already about to bust in my pants, can I just…” he clears his throat and reopens his eyes, looking down at the glorious sight below him; you staring up at him as you pull your legs wide open for him, pussy on display and glistening just for him, patiently waiting to pull him into your walls. His hand comes down to wrap around his aching cock and you watch as he starts to jerk himself off, small moans and whimpers leaving his lips, jaw slack from the pleasure.

It takes him less than a minute to stroke himself to his climax, hips stuttering as he coaxed out his load all over your stomach and added to the mess adorning your lower half, your own jaw dropping as you watch him cum all over you. “That was fucking hot,” you praise, a sinister smile forming on your lips.

He laughs, taking a few deep breaths before he situates his hips against yours, resting his tip against your entrance. “Thanks. I was not going to last at all and I’ve always wondered what you’d look like covered in my cum, so.. two birds.” He joked.

You’re about to laugh with him when he shoves himself inside you, bottoming out in one thrust. The movement rips a gasp from your lips, face contorting in a mix of pleasure and pain from the sudden stretch. “Oh!” You squeak out, locking eyes with Matt as he drags his own gaze up your body to stare down into your eyes. “My fucking god,” he groaned, slowly dragging his cock out of you before pushing back in, pulling a soft whine out of your lips. “Holding that pussy wide open for me, hm?”

You bite your lip harshly as your head drops back onto the pillow, eyes rolling back as Matt starts up a quick rhythm, his cock deliciously dragging through your walls. The angle of your legs being pushed up had him hitting every sweet spot inside of you, your voice growing hoarse from how much you were whining and moaning, hands starting to lose your grip on your legs. “C’mon, baby, don’t let up now, show me how pretty you look taking my cock so well.”

You’re trying your best when you readjust your grip on the backs of your knees, but the mixture of sweat and how weak you felt made the task difficult, your hands sliding around and unable to get a good grip. “Can’t, Matt,” you whimper, opening your eyes again to look back up at him, silently begging for help. He notices your struggle and pushes your hands away with his own, spreading his fingers out on the backs of your thighs to push them against you, the new angle of his cock inside you making you cry out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there, please don’t stop, need you right there.” You babble on, staring up at Matt as his eyes stay trained on where your bodies meet.

“Touch yourself, princess,” Matt demands, forcing his gaze up to meet yours, admiring the way your eyes were glazed over and half covered by heavy eyelids. “If you can’t hold your legs up you gotta touch yourself for me, baby.”

You’re taken aback, not used to such demands. Normally the guys you slept with didn’t even care about if you finished or not, and now here Matt was making sure you came at least twice. It was a bit confusing at first, but you eventually processed his words, eyebrows furrowing. “But, Matt, I-,”

He cuts you off with a sharp dig into your thighs with his fingers, silencing you immediately. “Fucking touch yourself for me,” he says again, leaving no room for argument. “Wanna see you cum all over me, see your pretty face and hear how good you sound.”

Really, who were you to deny such a convincing statement? Especially when he asked so nicely.

“Fuck,” you whisper in defeat, bringing your hand between your legs and taking a deep breath before pressing your two middle fingers into your clit, whimpering softly as you drew small circles around it, the pleasure of that mixing with the way Matt still thrust into you making you clench your eyes shut again, moaning as your head dug back into the pillow, back arching into the pleasure. “Oh my god, so good, Matt.”

Once he saw your eyes close again, Matt looked down to where your hand was picking up speed on your sensitive nerves, your movements and his grinding matching up in pace until your legs were trembling again, still held in place by his rough grip. “That’s perfect, baby, shit, you’re fucking made for me, hm? Made to take me all the way like this?”

“Yes,” you choke out, throat starting to straight from how hard you were rubbing yourself, breath starting to catch in your throat. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, oh my god, Matt, I’m cumming again,” you gasp, whole body tensing up for a few seconds before your orgasm crashed over you, your whole body shaking and legs trying to close but unable to due to Matt holding them in place. He’s groaning loudly, thrusts becoming uncoordinated as he chased his own high, his mouth dropping in pleasure when he finally reached his peak, loud, attractive moans spilling from his lips.

Matt’s own eyes are screwed shut as he paints his release over your walls, breath shaky as he slows down, unaware of how hard he’s gripping into your skin until you whine his name out and push your legs out of his grip. When he lets go, his forearms come down to rest on either side of your head, his face burying in your neck.

“Fuuuck,” he groans tiredly, still buried inside you. “Y’have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck you like that.”

You laugh, running a clammy hand over his equally sweaty back, patting his skin in a teasing matter. “Glad you got it out of your system.” You reply.

His head pops up after you speak, staring down at you questioningly. “Oh, I didn’t. I’ve still got plenty of fantasies to run through.” Matt tells you, and though his tone is silly, you know he’s completely serious, so you raise your eyebrows at him inquisitively. “Did this not fulfill your fantasies?” You ask him.

He scoffs and sends you a classic Matt eye roll, like he couldn’t believe you were actually asking him that. “It did, but only some. I’ve got like a year’s worth of filthy shit I wanna do to you.” He tells you, dipping back down to nip at the soft skin on your neck, sucking it into his mouth for a moment before letting go, blowing over the wet spot to make you shiver. “Like mark you up, fuck you all over my house, in my car, in the shower, I wanna fuck you on your hands and knees, wanna watch you ride me, wanna fuck that pretty, pretty mouth of yours, wanna hear you beg for me…” his lips are moving down your skin as he speaks, leaving soft kisses along his route until he’s nestled between your breasts, pulling away to look down at your body. “Wanna be able to call you mine,” he confesses, leaning back in to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. The feeling made you whine softly, your core tingling in anticipation, even though you were spent and anymore contact might make you cry.

“Matt,” you huff, reaching up to grab his face and push him off, looking down at his pouty expression. “Everything is so sensitive, feels like my skin is on fire.”

He smiles down at you, like he’s taken your words in the complete opposite direction you meant, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Perfect, so you can give me one more, yeah?”

You’re still processing what he’s said by the time he’s scooted back down the bed and positioned his face between your legs once again, a big grin on his face. You’re about to push him away and tell him you can’t take anymore, you’re too overstimulated to give him anything else, but when his mouth comes forward and starts working on you again, you’re silenced aside from the loud groans and whines coming from your lips, deciding one more couldn’t hurt.

-

a/n: matt’s favorite adjective for you is pretty. clearly (:

also welcome to my playlist series! leave requests for songs you’d like me to write songs based off of

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah

@sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo

@secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff

@imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside

@sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo

@sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003

@poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga

[enhaniki-san]

touché - reader x niki ｡𖦹°‧

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, etc.

part two: click here

niki has a way of quietly taking up space in your mind. you didn’t know when it started but to you, he just stood out without being so loud or seeking attention in your shared friend group.

lately, you noticed that whenever you glanced in his direction, you would found him already looking at you. perhaps he was just looking around the room, and you caught him mid-gaze but still, it's happening too often to ignore.

you began to feel self-conscious. thinking that niki might assume that you're always staring at him.

and without realizing it, you found yourself influenced by his style. you bought caps similar to one he always wore, you started layering necklaces, and even swapped your usual bag for a stylish crossbody one like his.

your eyes instinctively searched for him. you scanned the room and when you didn’t spot him, you sighed, frustrated with your own behavior. and as you turned around, you bumped into someone’s chest.

"woah..." came a familiar voice. niki's hands gently steadied your arms.

"ow..." you mumbled, holding your nose, which throbbed from the impact. "sorry..."

"you good?" he asked, tone light with a hint of concern. and without waiting for an answer, he smoothly guided you towards the kitchen.

you nodded, laughing softly while rubbing your nose. "yeah, i’m good. just clumsy, i guess."

niki laughed too, leaning casually opposite of you against the counter as you leaned against the kitchen sink.

he had been thinking about this. getting you alone and away from the group. not that it was a big deal or anything, but he's been feeling you and noticing you more lately. it wasn’t something he planned exactly but now that you're here, just the two of you, it felt like a good chance.

he just have to act normal.

"so… i've been seeing you here a lot lately." he said, crossing his arms.

you nodded, feeling a little awkward under his stare. "yea- yeah, i guess i have been pretty social these days."

"you've been dressing differently too." niki pointed out, his eyes flicking briefly to your cap and necklaces.

your eyes widened slightly and your cheeks burned in his sudden comment. "oh, uh… just trying something new." you laughed nervously.

"it suits you." he said with a smirk. as if he knows exactly who you dresses like.

trying to change the subject, you cleared your throat as you reached for a jar of jam on the counter. you scooped a small spoonful into your mouth.

niki gestured for the jar as you ate. without thinking, you handed it over, still talking about something trivial.

and niki didn’t bother getting a new spoon. he dipped the one you just used, taking a bite while you're yapping. he's looking at you with an intensity, making your words gone.

"you were saying?" he prompted, lips curving into a mischievous grin as he held the spoon in his mouth.

you stammered. completely forgetting your train of thought.

niki chuckled at your reaction. he started to walk towards you. tossing the spoon into the sink with a casual flick of his wrist. he took a step closer making you lean back against the sink while your heart beats so fast in your chest.

still keeping his eyes on you, he reached and turned your cap backwards, his fingers brushing against your hair.

"there. much better." he smiled with a low and teasing voice.

niki looked in your eyes for a while, smiling. he tilted his head and very slowly, he leaned in. your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into the moment when niki placed a kiss on your lips.

he pulled back slightly and saw the dazed look on your face, a flicker of amusement crossed his lips. "not enough?" he asked you in his mind.

niki held your face gently. this time he leaned in again with more urgency. deepening the kiss, his lips moving against yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine. you could taste the sweetness of the jam on his mouth as the kiss grew hungrier.

his hands began to roam. they slid from your neck down your back and to your waist. and with a firm and gentle grip, he pulled your body closer to his. niki pressed his body against yours harder each kiss.

the heat between you was overwhelming, making you let out a soft gasp and he seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring yours with a skill that made your knees weak.

you can feel his smirk against your lips, clearly pleased with your reaction.

the sound of someone shouting his name from another room shattered the moment. both of you froze, your lips parting with an audible sound.

niki pressed his forehead against yours. his breathing ragged but gave you another kiss.

"should i deal with him or should we get out of here?"

"uhh… deal with him?"

niki smiled and chuckled. he was expecting you say otherwise but anyway, he gave you another quick peck on the lips before stepping back. "wait, i'll be right back."

you exhaled shakily when he left. a wide grin spreading across your face like an idiot. you couldn’t believe what just happened.

you stayed frozen in place, leaning against the sink, your fingers brushing over your tingling lips as if to confirm it wasn’t a dream.

the warmth of his touch and the taste of the jam still lingered, making it impossible to focus on anything else. you kept replaying the moment over and over in your mind.

you can hear the distant hum of conversations from the other room. niki returned, his presence filling the room like it always did. "miss me?" he asked casually, leaning against the counter once more as if nothing had happened.

you rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool despite the heat rushing to your cheeks. "you were gone for, like, five minutes."

niki smirked, his eyes dropping briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. "felt longer."

you bit your lip, looking down to avoid his piercing stare but he wasn’t about to let you escape so easily.

"so..." he started, stepping closer once again. "why do I always catch you looking at me but never saying anything?"

"but i don't." you said, searching for a defense but coming up blank.

niki leaned in, his hands casually rested on the edge of the sink on either side of you, effectively trapping you in place. "it's okay, though." he murmured, his voice soft but teasing. "i like it. it’s cute."

your breath hitched as his face hovered inches from yours, his proximity making it impossible to think straight. "you sure you're not imagining things?" you managed to ask, though your voice wavered.

"oh?" niki smirked at your comments. totally amused that you're still denying it. "am I?"

you opened your mouth to respond but the words died in your throat when he leaned even closer, his lips just barely grazing your ear.

"you're not very good at hiding it, you know,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling your skin.

you turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his. niki's look was steady and full of confidence.

"and what about you?" you asked him. surprising yourself with your boldness. "you're not exactly subtle either."

niki chuckled softly. "touché."

Before he could say more, the sound of someone walking toward the kitchen interrupted the moment. niki straightened himself. his hands falling back to his sides though his eyes never left yours.

"we're not done here." he said quietly, grinning.

niki then casually greeted the person entering the kitchen as if nothing happened.

a/n: hello read part two here

read part-timers!niki x reader

read part-timers!niki x reader part 2

read snitch - reader x niki

[fueioekjfisks]

Even if danny does come clean with the justice league, they would need proof.

Properly exposing himself could put him in danger if the justice league failed (and lets be honest, I dont think danny has that much trust that they could clear this up before anybody gets hurt sense it took them this long to even look into it in the first place)

So keeping danny and phantom as separate entities would be crucial.

PLUS it has so much angst and misunderstanding potential that i just cant resist

Like, danny is the primary doctor (Torturer) for phantom! Hes the son of ghosthunters! Phantoms natural enemy! They are on opposite ends of this war

Of course Danny isnt actually torturing Phantom, they find a way to make it look like hes making progress without causing harm, maybe by reinventing Fenton tech and phantoms spectral manipulation abilities.

But Phantom has to play his role as victim well.

He is so dramatic, and with Danny playing the sadistic manipulative doctor it looks like a horror movie - while both of them are trying not to laugh at the idiot GIW agents who fall for their honestly sub par lying and acting skills.

Maybe B gets to watch one of their sessions, or is otherwise shown them through video recordings which the GIW/Danny so proudly showed off - and is absolutely horrified!

Sure, by human standards it looks like Phantom is ridiculously conscious for someone actively being vivisected - screaming about “oh the horror!” “Wheres the humanity!” “Oh woe is me!”

But Phantom being a different species he cant apply human expectations! This could be exactly how it goes for them! And he definitely LOOKS like hes being cut up (Phantom using his stupid cartoon body manipulation abilities )

And its clear Dr Danny is completely unfazed by all of it! He might even be enjoying it!

Hes especially cruel- telling phantom to shut up (Phantom is being way to dramatic to be believable) and threatening him (phantom is actively biting back replying with “you promise ;)” to literally everything and Danny KNOWS and is trying SO HARD not to laugh)

Ya know general torture stuff

But as oracle is searching through the GIW database she finds a secret file. (This is stolen from one of the earlier replies)

Its Dr Dannys

It contains other sessions of him and Phantom along with Videos of danny reviewing GIW plans, sites, employees, and its Very Helpful for the bats.

I imagine that the videos of Dr Danny and Phantom have them mostly joking around and checking in on each other. Danny used ectopowers and/or help from Tucker or Technus to keep the videos away from the GIW and put them in his own personal files.

Danny had kept the videos of proof that ghosts are sentient (and maybe his own innocence), but he didnt want to make it obvious he was a double agent incase he got found out

I cant decide if its better if these videos reveal Danny as a double agent or if it looks like Phantom is developing stockholm syndrome with his personal torturer. Either way it clearly shows that Phantom and Danny are close.

Does something they do make it look like Danny and Phantom were friends (or maybe more, fake pitch pearl my beloved) before his capture? Do the JL question what happened?

Does Danny eventually reveal to truth? Does he go to jail before he gets the chance?

Did the justice league rescue Phantom or did Danny call in a rescue from Sam and Tucker? Does this make it look like Dr Danny went on the run with his favorite test subject?

Does Danny help out with Phantoms escape, throwing everything the JL know about him out the window?

Does Danny think they figured out he was a double agent? Is he confused when they try to save Phantom from him?

Does Phantom and Danny fuse back together the second the alarms in the GIW base start up because of the JLs rescue? Does it look like Phantom is getting revenge on his torturer via possession? Do the JL try to talk him out of it?

Was Phantom actually weakened by his stint with the GIW? Is it because of the lack of ectoplasm? his general mistreatment? Is the double is naturally weaker? or did something need to be done to make the fake Fenton Tools look like they work?

Does this make Phantom to weak to stop the JL from separating him and danny / taking Phantom to the hospital?

Does Phantom need to go to therapy where he is supposed to talk about how evil Danny is? Does it make it look like Phantom has Stockholm syndrome even more? Is Danny going through the same therapy? Does it make him look obsessed either Phantom? Are they playing it up for fun?

Anyway, lots of ideas, i love GIW danny so much.

Also fake pitch pearl for hidden identity purposes, both current or back when they were younger could be so funny / angsty

You Don’t Know Me

“We’re so glad you’re showing an interest in our work here, Mr. Wayne!”

“Of course! It’s just all so new!” Bruce said through a hollow laugh, “It’s almost unbelievable!”

“Believing in ghosts is the first step to finally getting rid of them!”

Bruce fought to keep his face flat as the director enthusiastically continued his tour of their facility.

Their ghost hunting facility.

Where they had funded and government sanctioned labs purely for the persecution of an entire inter-dimensional species.

“-Truly, the Drs.Fenton were an inspiration to the entire field of ectobiology! We wouldn’t know half the things we know about ghosts if it wasn’t for their early research!”

Bruce forced a thin smile, “Oh? Will I get to meet them? Or can I at least see some of their work?”

The man faltered almost imperceptibly, “Ah well.. that might be a bit, Fentons can be a bit.. overzealous and-“

“I’m sure it would go a long way to understanding the need for such a large facility. If it’s worth it even, perhaps I could fund an expansion…” Bruce let his voice trail off.

The man’s eyes sharpened at the mention of his financials- of course, what more could you expect from a shark who’d joined an operation like this- and the man quickly smiled.

“But of course Mr. Wayne!” He turned around, leading them towards an elevator, “Our labs are just downstairs, easy access you know, and well.. with any new specimens it’s always best to start right away!”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. They already had subjects? Their reports, their research had indicated they weren’t there yet, but if they were, this could quickly turn into a rescue mis-

“-It’s an absolute honor that we even have one of the Fenton’s themselves working with us!” Bruce sharpened his senses, one of them was here? The people who had laid every base for a hateful crusade against another dimension, all for their own ambition?

“Our labs are right through here,” the director said as he pushed open a door, “Dr. Fenton is working with our prize specimen right now, I’m sure!”

Bruce quickly scanned and analyzed the entire room. Testing tubes, jars filled with green, centrifuges, a sample fridge, glassware, plenty of counter space, all taken up by various tools and materials. And standing in front it was the reason for it all, dressed in a white lab coat over garish latex.

He turned around as they entered, “You know me too well, Director,” the young man spoke, ignoring the green splattered over his gloves, “My work with him isn’t finished yet.”

“Mr.Wayne, meet our frontier scientist, Dr. Daniel Fenton.”

Bruce Wayne scanned the young man, no older than 26, with a height similar to his own and shoulders only barely less.

A scientist. An unknown. A threat.

Fenton smiled at him, “Tell me Mr.Wayne,” Daniel said, and his smile went sharp, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

[screwitbaby]

cybergirl

hamzahthefantastic x reader (oneshot)

[part 1] (you don’t have to read it to read this one)

summary: you’re a cam girl and you have more power over hamzah’s horny ass than you can even comprehend.

contains: smut with plot ofc

w/c: 2.7k-ish

a/n: yall convinced me. can i even call this a oneshot anymore? anyway enjoy <3

~

The clock was ticking. Hamzah's eyes couldn't stay in one place. He knew he was obsessed with you—he couldn't even jerk off to random porn anymore, only you could keep him hard—but the extent of his infatuation was starting to take a toll on his daily life. Recording gaming videos and podcasts with Martin felt like such a chore when all he could think about was your plush thighs wrapped around his head or your face pressed into his pillows, ass up. 

It was like a parasite had taken over and he was merely a host body for something sinister that was controlling his every move. He wasn't even sure if he hated it. It was one of the only things bringing him unadulterated joy as of recent. His wallet certainly hated him for it, though.

His laptop was already on and set in place. You were about to start your weekly scheduled live broadcast and he was sat in bed, waiting obediently for your arrival. The thought of creepy, old retirees with beer guts and wives also waiting for you made his skin crawl. His brain conjured up torturous scenes of you on call with them, talking to them the same way you spoke to him. Charming them with your promising words and perfect tits. No, he was sure he was special. Right?

He slapped his cheeks lightly, trying to rid the thoughts from poisoning his mind. It didn't matter. He knew what he was getting into the moment he paid for that first private meeting. He just had to suck it up and have you in any way he could.

Your panties were laid out next to him, almost tricking him into believing you were there in the room with him at one point or another. When he came home from the studio a week ago and saw a package with cursive writing and glittery gift wrap sitting at his doorstep, he was tempted to banish Martin from the building as soon as he'd welcomed him. When Martin then asked him what was in the box as he was taking it up to his room, he froze. His lies about it being an eBay order were almost as easy to see as the half-chub rising beneath his sweatpants. Luckily, Mandy called her boyfriend within the hour and he left soon thereafter without bothering to question his best friend's strange behavior.

It was pathetic, the way he locked the door to his room and shut his blinds just to open a parcel. He felt like he was living with his family again, trying to minimize any possible chances that they'd walk in on him with his dick in his hand. But he was completely alone then, and as he carefully tore the wrapping to preserve your penmanship of his name on the shipping label, his heart was beating out of his chest. Swathed in pink tissue paper lay his only worldly evidence that you were real, not just a couple of pixels on his screen.

Your lilac, lacy, worn panties.

For the next few days, Hamzah didn't leave home. He sniffed, he rubbed, he moaned and groaned. And he was loud. Any sense of shame left him as soon as he came the first time. He was sure he'd pass out from the pleasure at some point, but it was like each climax recharged him with the power to go twice as hard. It took a while for him to get himself together. It took no time at all for him to tune in to your show.

So, here he was, anxiously staring at the chat room full of digital degenerates and convincing himself he wasn't cut from the same cloth. He was different. He respected you. He liked you for more than just your perfect tits, peachy ass, lustrous hair, smooth skin, wet pu—

Then, the camera turned on. The chat started going at a hundred miles per hour. The donations began to flow in. And all you had done was smile.

"Hi, everybody," you giggled, eyes scanning the screen as you waved. "Oh, wow! Thank you for all the donations! So eager for me."

Hamzah's heart twinged. He didn't want to be reminded that he wasn't the only one. He made a donation of his own as you began reading them out.

"Thank you for the hundred dollars, SuperSpreader77!" you gasped as the notification sounded. You placed your hand on your chest, drawing Hamzah's eyes to the blood-red, satin brassiere that adorned it. "I'll be sure to make it up to you."

You winked and bit your lip. Hamzah swore he could've melted right there. The damp spot on the front of his boxers stuck out sorely, his cock aching for a release that would certainly make him see stars.

"I missed you all so much." You pouted.

And just like that, his elation was cut short by your acknowledgment of the others.

The live lasted near an hour as you touched yourself and stared into the camera and teased and did all the right things to get Hamzah wrapped even tighter around your finger. Knowing he was there after his donation made you slightly more daring than usual. You spanked yourself with a frilly paddle until your ass was stinging and bruised—a little taste of what was to come. You weren't lying about making it up to him later.

By the end, Hamzah was sure his balls were really going to turn blue. He did touch himself—how could he not?—but he knew nothing would be better than to finish with you, one on one. So he edged closer and closer to the point of no return, denying himself of his orgasm as he rutted into his fist, wishing it was your mouth or your cunt. He watched with impressive self control as you came all over your own fingers, splayed across your mattress like a priceless painting that could only be rightfully witnessed in a museum.

You ended the live by blowing a kiss and Hamzah rushed to open the Zoom app. This time, you joined within a few minutes, still topless but with your thong back on. Hamzah wasn't sure if he was sad to see you covered up or more excited that he'd get to see it get pulled off again.

"Hi, angel," you greeted. Your eyes twinkled, face flushed and lips bitten red from your previous escapade. "I missed you the most."

Hamzah groaned like the words physically wounded him.

"You're driving me insane," he said.

His hand traveled down to his navel, but before he could grab himself, you spoke.

"Ah, ah," you tutted, stopping him in his tracks. "Did you get my little gift?"

"Yes." He nodded keenly, grasping the lace from beside him and running it down his torso until he draped it over his throbbing cock.

"Do I even want to know what you've done with it?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"The things I wish I could do to you," Hamzah answered honestly.

He pinched the lace between his fingers and ghosted the cloth across himself, sharply inhaling at the sensation. You bit your lip and Hamzah felt himself twitch. With the way you had soaked through your thong, you wondered if he'd want this pair, too.

"Did you enjoy my show?" you asked despite knowing the answer. "Enjoy yourself?"

"I waited for you," Hamzah said. "I wanted you. Alone."

"Are you hurting? Aching for me?"

"I want you so bad. You have no idea."

"I don't?"

Hamzah shook his head.

"Show me. Show me how you used those panties."

He immediately obliged. He began by gripping his shaft, spreading the precum from his tip downward. He moved your panties to encircle his cock, dragging against his balls deliciously as he pumped himself. His head fell back, already so close that he could feel his heartbeat drumming in his ears. You watched him hungrily.

"Gonna cum already?" You licked your lips, leaving them glossy. "Let me hear you, angel."

A loud moan tumbled from his lips, a sense of abandon washing through him as he pleasured himself in front of you. You observed the way the vein in his neck popped similarly to the ones on his cock and imagined how they'd taste, how they'd feel against your tongue. You began touching yourself, swirling your fingers around your swollen clit.

"I-I can't hold—c-can I?" he stuttered out, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Do it, Hamzah. Ruin my panties."

You lay flat on your back, neck craned to watch the screen as his movements grew fervent. You tried to match his pace, tried to fuck your fingers into your pussy as he bucked his hips, tried to picture it was him inside of you. He spilled into his hand, shouting your name over and over until his voice grew scratchy and he had released every last drop all over himself and the fabric. He hadn't even opened his eyes before he was hard again. You were the only Viagra he'd ever need.

"Wanna see you," he panted, attempting in vain to catch his breath.

He ran his thumb over his tip and shivered. You leapt from bed to pull your thong off and tossed it towards the camera playfully. When you bent over your desk, his eyes widened. The marks on your ass were red and angry, slightly raised in the shape of the paddle. He didn't know he had it in him, but he genuinely growled.

"Fuck me..." He gripped himself tighter, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head from how sensitive he was.

You reached into one of the drawers and slowly pulled a toy out from the back. Hamzah was pleased to see the dildo was of similar size to him. You knew it would never compare to the real thing, but it'd have to do. You spat onto it, slapping it against your sore ass a couple times and jumping at the sting. Hamzah fell into a trance, unable to do anything but moan as he watched you run the head against your dripping folds before pressing in.

You gasped, keeling over the desk as your wetness enveloped the entirety of the silicone. The feeling of every inch stretching you had you clamping around it as your body adjusted to the intrusion. You drew it out until just the tip was still inside. Then, all at once, you drove it back in with a cry.

"Hamzah!" you whimpered, head lolling to the side. "I-I'm—"

"You're doing so good, baby." He wrapped your panties around the base of his cock, intensifying his satisfaction as the fabric cinched around him. "Fuck yourself. Hard."

His hoarse voice combined with the pleasure passing through you made your legs shake. You could barely even hold yourself up. Your chest pressed against the cold wood and your nipples grazed the surface, rendering you speechless. Hamzah watched as you flicked your wrist as fast as you could and the dildo disappeared into you. You were in the clouds, gripping the edge of the desk with your other hand until your knuckles turned white.

"Shit, s-so fuckin’ pretty," Hamzah groaned.

You couldn't even see straight anymore, but you knew him well enough to know he was closing in on his second orgasm of the night. The carnal sounds of the both of you reverberated through your rooms, a mess of moans and wet slapping. When you screwed your eyes shut tight enough, it was almost as if you were there together.

"Cum f'me, baby," Hamzah grunted out, "only me."

"Only you, angel," you whined, your mouth staying ajar as you felt your stomach clenching and your toes curling.

Broken moans toppled from your lips. Any words said were inaudible, a jumble of sweet nothings as the two of you came in unison. Your wrist was cramping and you could feel your arousal making a mess all over your legs, but you couldn't bare to stop your movements. Pure bliss coursed through your veins and Hamzah strained to watch the way your orgasm turned your body into a shaking heap atop your desk. He came so hard his vision blacked out for a moment and he huffed heavy breaths until his body was no longer tensed from head to toe.

You eventually released the dildo from your grasp and let it fall to the floor, tracing your fingers over your wetness then to your clit. Even a faint touch sent a shock through you. You giggled but it came out as a shaky sigh.

"God, baby," Hamzah murmured, unraveling your panties from his dick and sitting up to pull his laptop closer. "You okay?"

"Hmm," you hummed in your state of euphoria. You attempted to stand straight but to no avail, gripping the sides of the desk as you nearly toppled over with another giggle. "'M fine."

"Fuck," Hamzah laughed quietly, feeling the effects of his own exhaustion. "That good?"

"Mhm," you moaned, nodding.

When you turned, you wobbled on your feet for a couple steps before falling to your knees in front of the bed. You brought your laptop to the edge and smiled, wiping a tear from your eye.

"So good."

Hamzah grinned, leaning against the wall as his breathing slowly returned to a normal pace. He was sticky and slightly sore, but he couldn't even begin to imagine what you were feeling in that moment.

"How do you do this for work?" he said, bemused. "I'm destroyed."

He reached up to run his fingers through his curls, but decided against it once he felt the moisture coated between them.

"I was thinking of you during the live."

You crossed your arms on the bed, resting your cheek on your forearm as you stared at his figure through the screen. He opened his mouth and closed it a couple times, failing to find his words. You giggled again, completely spent.

"Why are you so far?"

He knew there was no real answer to his question, but he couldn't help but wonder out loud. How was it that the girl of his dreams was so out of his reach? Did he do something in a past life to deserve this fate? The longer he thought about it, the worse he felt.

"Maybe it's for the best," you offered, eyes closed. "Maybe you'd get sick of me IRL."

He contemplated the sentiment for a moment. No, there's no way. He could never get sick of your sweet voice; surely it'd be impossible.

"First of all, 'IRL'? Really?" he teased. "And who knows. Maybe I could fly you out."

"Don't be silly," you yawned, sitting back on your haunches to stretch.

"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "I already paid for your panties. What makes you think I wouldn't pay for the ticket to get the rest of you here?"

"Ridiculous."

You just couldn't make sense of it. A boy flying you out while knowing close to nothing about you. Sure, you made each other feel good, but there's a big difference between seeing someone for an hour or two weekly and seeing them everyday with no where else to go. Such an absolute scared you. Besides, a girl like you would never dare to have such big dreams of a fairytale ending.

"My offer still stands." Hamzah crossed his arms.

"What is it with you and your offers?"

"Never hurt before."

He grabbed the panties from beside him and held it up to the camera like it was evidence of his claim. The two of you laughed at the white stains that now adorned it.

"You're disgusting."

"You love it."

You shook your head, not even refuting his words. You couldn't ignore the jolt that surged through your heart.

"Really, you should consider it," he said with a shrug.

"No promises," you said. "Goodnight, angel."

You subsequently signed off, leaving Hamzah with a longing in his chest that kept him up that night and invaded his dreams when he managed to drift off in the early hours of the morning.

~

a/n: if u ask for part 3 i may just scream. idk i kinda like having them yearn for each other. thoughts? feelings? concerns? hate? leave it in the replies!

[elizaleclerc]

it was all by design 🌟

"what if i told you none of it was accidental?"

summary: hunter!reader starts to realize their feelings for xavier, but he's felt this way the whole time...

song: mastermind by taylor swift

word count: 2.1k

author's note: my first l&ds fic everyone cheer! / mostly fluff / workplace romance (i mean this is canon) / im new to this game don't judge / cheeky makeout sesh / he falls first and hard / sarcastic smug xavier (he's a freak) / sweet talk - nothing too spicy / barely proof read oops

It was simple day at the arcade. You and Xavier decided to take the day off from missions and relax with some fun at the colorful arcade machines. You had won more stuffed plushies than you could feasibly carry in your arms, so Xavier held one in his hand delicately, as if he knew how much those little stuffed creatures meant to you.

“Well I better call it a day, I don’t think I can carry any more of these little guys.” You chuckled as your arms began to grow sore, even with the stuffed creatures’ light weight.

“Yeah, you’re supposed to be resting your muscles and instead here you are.” He gestured towards your arms filled with plushes. You laughed to yourself, refusing to admit he was right.

The two of you walked back to your car and you dumped all of the plushes in the backseat. As you looked at all of the adorable creatures, a realization hit you. You had no more room at your desk in the office for all of these plushes to fit.

“What are you thinking about? Or are you just admiring your growing collection?” Xavier spoke from beside me. I turned to look at him for a few moments. The Xavier during missions was so different yet the same as the Xavier outside of work. You had come to know him as a close friend, and even shared some flirtatious moments. Most of the time, you pushed those moments aside and decided to see him only as a coworker. But flirtatious fantasies sometimes danced through your mind.

You envisioned his desk at the office. Completely barren; no pictures, no decorations. A piece of furniture completely devoid of any color or personality. You grabbed one of your plushes. This one was a particularly round tomato plush. “Here,” you started, “this won’t fit on my desk, so you can have it.”

Xavier took the plush in his hand and examined it for a moment, “What am I supposed to do with it?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I dunno, it’s up to you.”

~

For some unknown reason, after the day at the arcade you spent the entire next day thinking about Xavier. During random moments of the day, memories between the two of you kept flashing back into your mind. You would be folding laundry and suddenly think back to his arms brushing against yours like they did during a mission in the forest. You both had heard and felt fluctuations and were on guard. He held your wrist in a swift movement to keep you close. You snapped out of it and finished folding your clothes.

Another memory flashed while you were cleaning dishes. It was a particularly risky mission, and Xavier’s Evol was dwindling. His life was at risk, but he was still willing to put himself in the face of danger in order to keep you safe. When you tried to resonate with him, at first he hesitated. He wouldn’t dare you spend any of your energy or power on him. But in the end, your decision to resonate saved his life. You both thought you’d end up losing the other that day, and the silent air of the aftermath sat heavy. You held each other close, your heavy breathing mixing together.

After your days off were over, and you thought you had finally gotten over yourself, you walked into the office prepared for whatever mission Jenna was going to send you on. But then, you saw Xavier across the room. He was standing talking to another hunter, and you just about lost your mind. He was standing with his arms crossed, clad in his hunter uniform, his head cocked slightly as he listened to whatever his coworker was jabbering about. God, he looked amazing, you thought. Why were you thinking of him in this way all of the sudden?

You had gone over every small interaction, every side conversation, every slight touch that the two of you had ever shared. Was there really something between the two of you, or had you actually gone mad this time. You walked over to your desk, placing one of your newest plushes on the shelf to complete your set.

Your eyes glanced over at Xavier’s desk, not expecting anything to have changed. You did a double take when you noticed something new. A small tomato plush sat next to his computer. That wasn’t the only thing either. A square photo was stuck to the hang wall that every worker had.

Trying to be inconspicuous, you squinted at the photo. It was one the two of you had taken before one of your most recent missions. You were both dressed in your uniforms, and he had his arm around your shoulder as you held bunny ears behind his head. He was smiling, and you were sticking your tongue out. It was the only photo the two of you had ever taken together.

Your head was reeling. This couldn’t be real. You were convinced you were trapped in some Protocore induced dream. “Do you like the new decorations?” Your body jolted as Xavier spoke next to you. You turned to see a smug smile on his face, his arms still crossed.

You were too shocked to speak, but finally decided to say something as Xavier waited for an answer. “Yeah, yeah…it’s nice.” Your voice sounded more exasperated than you’d like. Xavier seemed to read you like a book. Did he know the realizations that you were having?

“Are you alright?” He asked with a slight smile. He didn’t actually seem too concerned.

“Yeah- no, yeah, I’m fine.” You stumbled over your words, refusing to make eye contact with him. You saw a slight twitch in his bicep as he adjusted his stance by his desk. Your entire face went hot. “I think Jenna wanted me to look at something in the Archive room, I’ll um…be right back.” You hurried through your excuse to leave the main office.

Your breath had quickened, but you found solace in the empty archive room. Only tech workers were really needed back here to retrieve old files on specific Protocores or important history of Linkon. Thankfully the room was empty, the only sound being your heavy breathing. You sat yourself on one of the empty counters, the space usually used for examining documents. You put your head in your hands, get it together.

You heard the handle of the door slide open, and your heart sank. In walked Xavier, still appearing smug and moving like he rehearsed all of this. “Are you following me now?” You huffed, just needing some time alone to sort through your thoughts.

“Are you done lying to me?” He retorted, moving closer to you, now standing only a few feet away.

“What are you talking about?” You scoffed in a hushed laugh.

“You’re clearly not fine. What’s going on?” He still held that dumb smile on his face, and your brows furrowed.

“Are you actually concerned for me? Because you’re smiling. Do you know you’re smiling right now?” You asked in a rushed tone; you’ve never seen him behave this way.

He let out a deep sigh, his eyes rolling in exasperation. "Do I have to explain everything to you?" He took a step closer, his body now towering over you as you sat perched on the counter. He leaned down, his hands planted firmly on either side of your legs. Your faces were mere inches apart, and the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine. “Do I have to explain why your face flushes when I get close like this?”

Gently, he reaches out and places his warm hand on your knee, caressing it with gentle strokes. With a slow and deliberate movement, he begins to trace a path up your thigh, his fingertips leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. Gradually, his touch becomes more confident and sure, sending waves of desire rippling through your body. “Do I have to explain how your breath quickens when I do this?”

He leans in, his breath warm on your neck as he speaks in a soft whisper only meant for you. You can feel the heat radiating from his lips, and the gentle brush of his words sends shivers down your spine. His breath carries the scent of mint and musk, enveloping you in a cloud of desire. The closeness between you is palpable, and every nerve in your body is electrified by his presence. “Or can you put the pieces together yourself?”

“Xavier…” Is all you can think to say. Your breathing was quickening, and your face was flushed.

He sighed, his lips just barely grazing the start of your jaw, “I’ve waited and waited for you to finally feel what I’ve felt for so long.” You take your hands and slightly push his chest away.

You analyze his face and his brows furrow ever so slightly. “You mean- you’ve felt this way about me all this time and never told me?” You brought one of your hands up to the side of his face, your thumb lightly tracing around his cheek.

“Of course, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I knew you didn’t feel the same way- if you would never feel this way…” He starts, and before he can continue, you speak up.

“But now you know…”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, “Exactly.” He brings a hand up to your jaw and slowly moves it to the back of your neck. “Can I kiss you now?” Your eyes felt dazed as you gazed down at his lips. He brushed a thumb over the bottom of your lip, waiting. “Please, your eyes are saying yes but I need to hear it from your mouth.”

You nodded, snapping out of the haze you were in. “Yes, yes, please.” As soon as the last word was uttered Xavier brought his lips onto yours. He started slow, his soft lips moving in rhythm with yours. He was still leaning on his hands, but he moved them to wrap around your lower back. You never thought he would feel this good on your lips. You let out a slight whimper, and that sent Xavier spiraling. Like a man starved, he quickened his pace and kissed you as if he’d never get the chance again.

“Wait- we can’t do this here.” You took a moment in between kisses to center yourself and remember you were at work.

“Ugh, I don’t care,” Xavier breathed out and went back to kissing you again. Once his lips found yours for the second time you didn’t care anymore either. You wanted this feeling, this burning desire for him to last forever.

You smiled into the next kiss, “Okay,” You moved your hands into his hair, your fingers tugging on the strands slightly. He moaned lightly into your kiss, causing your back to arch.

You almost missed the door handle opening again, and you immediately pushed Xavier off of you. He stumbled back, partially in shock until he realized why. Andrew walked in, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment from walking in on the two of you. “Um- Jenna is looking for you. The mission assignments are about to be handed out.” He cleared his throat and walked out of the room.

Your own face was flush pink, and once Andrew left the room you put your head in your hands. “Oh my god.”

“Okay, you were right. Maybe we shouldn’t have done that here.” Xavier laughed to himself. You had no choice but to laugh, really.

You hopped off of the counter, your legs feeling weak. You couldn’t even think about going on a mission right now, nonetheless with Xavier. “Well,” You straightened out your uniform, “I guess we should head back.”

“Yeah,” Xavier chuckled to himself, “until next time.”

Your face flushed at his words, because you knew there would be a next time.

[outromoony]

Thank you for sharing your perspective. It's definitely a nuanced discussion. I agree that fanfiction can sometimes take characters in directions far removed from canon, and it’s important to acknowledge that canon and fanon are separate entities.

However, I think where we might diverge is in how fanfiction should be approached. For many, fanfiction is a way to explore, reinterpret, or expand upon characters and worlds in ways that resonate personally. Yes, some fanfiction creates "OCs with canon names," but that's part of its beauty. Fanworks allow readers and writers to take ownership of stories and make them meaningful in unique ways. That doesn’t inherently devalue the canon; it just shows how transformative fandom can be.

I get the frustration when people treat fanfiction, like ATYD, as if it’s canon. And honestly, I think that’s where some of this backlash comes from—people are mad that others adopt fanon interpretations so completely that it starts to overshadow canon. But isn’t that also a testament to how much these works resonate with fans? It might not be canon, but it’s meaningful to many, and that deserves respect too.

That said, it’s completely valid if you don’t agree with these interpretations. If you see the Marauders as bad people or think canon should be respected above all, that’s okay! For me, there are plenty of fanon takes I don’t personally agree with either, but this is just how some people enjoy fandom. I often post about things I don't agree with or interpretations of characters I don't resonate with. Some people agree with me, while others don't. You don’t agree. You don’t like it. That’s fine, so do many others! That’s why it’s important to find or create a community that shares your views and approach to fandom. There’s space for all interpretations if we’re willing to respect each other’s preferences.

At the end of the day, fandom should be a space for creativity, connection, and respect. It’s fine to critique and discuss, but that should come with an understanding of the effort and love people pour into their works, whether or not they align closely with your personal preferences or canon.

(Just wanted to leave this out here because I want to make it clear that even if I sometimes talk about my own opinions on ships, characters, headcanons, etc., I respect that others might see things differently. Fandom is about enjoying what you love in your own way, and there's space for all of us.)

I hate seeing people (especially on Twitter) constantly hating on ATYD as if it were a published book and not a fanfiction someone wrote entirely for free, spending months creating it just for our enjoyment. Calling it the 'downfall of our fandom' and so much other nonsense is ridiculous. If you don’t like a fanfic, that’s fine, but coming online to constantly hate on it is honestly disgusting. Have some fandom etiquette. These are the kinds of things that are ruining fandom and the reason so many writers stop writing.

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 19

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

.................................................................

Jude had an extended Christmas break, but Jobe didn’t, so the family flew in to Sunderland on 24th and Jude joined in that evening. Jobe interrogated him extensively about what went down in Madrid. Denise & Mark were curious too but Denise’s emphatic guideline to Mark was to just let Jude be. He’d talk to them when he’s ready. 

Jobe texted Ananya, while she was on the way to the cabin.

Jobe:  😊

It was simple, but communicated a lot of things. Ananya smiled & responded immediately.

‘Merry Christmas Eve. Sorry for stealing your brother but I sent him back :)’

‘To you too. And thanks, but he’s yapping non-stop now, more than usual.’

‘Well, good luck with that.’

‘Yeah I’m mostly ignoring him & Dad. Mum’s completely ignoring them!'

Ananya smiled while trying to picture the scene.

‘Have a great Christmas, Jobe. See you soon!'

‘You too. See ya!’

Immediately after that, she received a text from Jude. He had texted her earlier when he had landed, and then when he reached home, which was 30 mins ago.

‘Wassup?’

‘On my way. You?’

‘Sitting by the tree. Will read the letters soon.’

‘Tonight?’

‘Yeah, we do it on Christmas Eve. The presents are also tonight, so to wake up happy on Christmas Day.’

‘Lovely. Have fun.’

‘You too. But not too much.’

She laughed out loud and Anna turned to look at her from the driver’s seat.

‘Will try. Bye now.’

‘Bye.’

The letters were lovely. The whole family was a little overwhelmed but Mark started to make some silly jokes about Jude’s handwriting, when Jude had expressly warned them not to, and Jobe joined in. Laughter & mock wrestles filled the room while Denise stayed perched up on the side, smiling at the 3 kids.

The presents were a long, long affair. Jude had gone well & truly overboard this time - wanted to celebrate the massive Madrid contract & everything else that had come his way this year with his family. Denise even admonished him a little for the overspending and Mark tried to figure out how he even managed that when all his accounts were under their supervision. Jude just smiled smugly, saying he had his ways.

They stayed in for dinner, preferring a cozy home-made meal by the fireplace. It was already 11 pm. Jude checked his phone. Her last message was at 8:30 pm, when she reached the cabin. His mind kept picturing what could be happening there, and if he had made the right call to nudge her to go. 

Nudge her? You practically threw her into his waiting arms.

Sometimes, Jude hated his mind for playing such cruel tricks. 

He needed to talk to her right now. Fuck maturity! Fuck pride!

Jude called. The phone kept ringing. He tried again. Same outcome. After 15 mins, when his mind was about to go into a full-blown overdrive (he was close to pinging Roma for Anna’s number), his phone flashed with a message from her.

‘Bad network here. Just saw you called?’

Well yeah he called. That’s how the calls got registered on her phone. 

Knowing fully well he couldn’t take that tone with her, Jude took two full rounds around his room before responding.

‘Yeah. Can we talk?’

He proceeded to stare at his screen for 1 full minute, then she called him.

‘Hey youuu.’

Jude could tell that tone from a million miles away. She was drunk. Bad idea, he needed her to be fully in her senses tonight. But, she was away celebrating with her friends and he couldn’t possibly hold that against her.

‘Having fun?’

‘Oh yeah. Just ate half a cake. Downed it with wine. In hindsight not a great call but hey.’

She was still using big proper words. Jude surmised she was more buzzed than drunk. Good, some respite!

‘Nice. What else is happening?’

‘Just eating & drinking & playing some music & a little bit of dancing.’

‘Nothing else?’

She smiled, getting his drift.

‘Nothing that I need to tell, like we discussed.’

‘About that, I changed my mind. Tell me everything.’

Not knowing was driving him up the wall. She knew he wouldn’t last long anyway.

‘Jude, we are just joking, bitching rather, about folks at work & some clients. Typical IB stuff.’

‘Hmm.’

She caught the annoyance in his tone. It was time to change the topic.

‘How did it go there? Your folks were surprised?’

That worked like a charm. He immediately dove into giving her a word by word description, forgetting what was on his mind earlier. His child-like enthusiasm on describing his presents just melted her heart. 

‘Well, you’ve got one more to go.’

‘This year, I’m waiting for that one the most.’

‘Soon. How was dinner?’

‘Food was great. But dad insisted to be in charge of plum pudding and it was a catastrophe. Proper disaster. Too runny. Like he’s a good cook don’t get me wrong. Had to learn when Mom came to live with me at Dortmund and he had to look after Jobe. But man, desserts are not his thing. Jobe nearly choked on it but Mom said we have to finish it without making a fuss.’

‘Awww.’

‘But I had a way to make it taste delicious.’

‘Yeah & what’s that?’

‘Are you alone?’

He knew it was an out of context question. But he didn’t want anyone (one person specifically) to see her flushed cheeks.

‘Ermm yeah.’

‘Well dove, I imagined eating it off your tits.’

She choked on the wine, and spilled it a little. He loved hearing her breathless gasp.

‘You…gosh you…’

‘Are they tingling?’

Well now they were. She had to put an arm around her chest to rein in the sensation.

‘GO AWAY.’

‘I love you too.’

This carried on for a few more minutes before he finally, begrudgingly, let her go back to her friends.

Ananya had to wash her face with cold water to recover from his assault on her senses. 

It was a fun evening/night. It had been a while since she had gone out with her work group. Thought different nationalities, they were all from the same world and talked about similar things. Relatable. It had been a gruelling 7 months at work since she joined, so it was nice to let loose with folks who went through the same rigour as her.

Drinks were flowing freely, and Ananya indulged too. But stopped when her head started to spin a little. She was the first one to retire to her room, around 1 am.

2 hours later, she woke up with her throat parched. Clearly had forgotten to have enough water. It was always tougher to do that with wine. Thankfully, she never really got hangovers but the buzz was still there. A fair bit.

She stepped out to find the kitchen. The whole cabin was quiet now, eerily so. The sound of rain splashing against the windows adding to the atmosphere. Holding the back of the furniture in her way, she quickly stumbled towards the kitchen. And found someone unexpected.

Arjun was standing there with his back to her, staring intently into the fridge. Dressed in night shorts. Like her. She almost turned on her heels to return but her throat was killing her.

He turned around, surprised to find her standing behind.

‘Hey.’

‘Hey.’

These were the first words they had spoken directly to each other all night. And in weeks.

‘Looking for water?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Seems like we drank it all. Nothing in the kitchen and the tap water has a weird smell.’

‘Oh.’

This was not good. Her body was threatening to revolt, desperately seeking some liquid.

‘Wait let me check our stash again.’

Arjun went into the living room, going through all the bags they brought. Ananya followed close behind, sitting on the edge of the couch. 

‘Christmas miracle.’

He emerged after 2 mins with half a bottle of juice and another one with some soda left in it, offering both to her. She took the juice, gladly. And he started gulping down the soda.

‘Thanks.’

‘No problem.’

They sat there for 30 seconds, not knowing where to look, or what to say to each other.

‘Well, this is awkward.’

Maybe it was the drinks that had lowered their inhibitions. Or maybe it was the situation. Or the fact that they were alone. But both looked at each other & burst out laughing at the same time. Which cut through the awkwardness. They laughed for a good full minute, finally settling down again.

‘How are you?’

It was a loaded question but she felt compelled to ask it. A nicer, kinder person should have asked that sooner.

His face suddenly turned sober.

‘Oh I’m ok. Yeah…I mean…all good.’

She cocked her head sideways & smiled, not believing it. He sighed in defeat, not wanting to look at her smiling face for too long.

‘As ok as I can be, I guess.’

‘I’m sorry Arjun, truly. For everything.’

‘Not your fault you love someone else.’

She cocked her head again, but in surprise this time. How did people seem to know this before she did?

Realising he was looking at her, she recovered quickly.

‘Yeah, but, I still am sorry.’

‘That’s coz you’re a good person.’

‘A good person would not have shunned you this way.’

There, she finally said it. This had been weighing on her since forever that it didn’t need to be this way. But she also kinda understood where Jude was coming from, so she had cut off Arjun completely since the proposal.

Arjun gazed at her sincerely. There were no prizes for guessing that her boyfriend was the reason she had cut him off.

‘I get it. Would have done the same in his place.’

She turned towards him, and he just shrugged. She shook her head in half exasperation.

‘Men!’

‘Men in love!’

She was a bit tongue-tied again. Coz last time he had used the word ‘feelings’ for her, not ‘love’ explicitly. 

‘So, he hates me then?’

Understatement of the century, as Jude had put it.

‘Well…’

She smiled and he laughed again. Almost falling from the couch. Clearly nowhere near sober. But she didn’t help him get back up, not crossing the line she had drawn in her head. The laughter subsided after a while and he looked at her sincerely again.

‘He’s a lucky guy.’

‘Thanks, but I think I’m the lucky one here.’

The fondness in her voice & the shining happiness in her eyes when she spoke of her boyfriend tugged at his heart. Suddenly he wanted to run out of there. This is what he deserved for sitting on his ass for months and not shooting his shot when he had the chance. 

Their drinks were nearly over & so was their limited time. He looked at her closely when she took the last sip and kept the bottle down, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

He didn’t wanna lose her completely. At least he could stay her friend. Wanting to end on a light note, he blurted something he never would have without the alcohol messing with his head.

‘So, you got a sister or something?’

‘What?’

It was her turn to laugh uncontrollably now, holding the arm of the couch.

‘Actually yeah. And she’s gonna be visiting soon.’

Ananya played along, still laughing. Funnily enough, her cousin would actually like him too.

‘Single?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Great. Maybe we could double-date then.’

She laughed harder. Jude was more likely to join Barca than to be on the same table as Arjun. Thankfully, Arjun just attributed it to her drunk state & laughed along. 

‘Well, good night. Merry Christmas to you Arjun.’

‘To you too, Ananya. Stay happy.’

‘You too.’

She turned around and Arjun saw her walk out of the room. And from his life. 

Ananya felt light after this conversation. Relieved. Less guilty maybe. Her thoughts went to Jude and she sent him a quick ‘Miss you baby’ message before conking off. Jude saw it at 5 am, in his semi-restless, nightmare-filled sleep. But slept a lot better after seeing it.

Of course when she told Jude the next day, he saw some sinister plot in this harmless conversation again. Which she laughed off, and he didn’t protest too much either. 

Next few days went by in a blur for Jude. Christmas with family was great as always, as was watching Jobe play. It always filled Jude with immense pride to see his brother grow into a force of his own. Then he had to hurry to Dubai for a few quick commitments, and also won the Globe Soccer Award for the best emerging player, which was a special moment for him & his family. No one had expected him to rise so quickly at Madrid but Jude relished the challenge & the responsibilities that came with it. His dad called it a proper ‘galactico’ mentality. 

On his last evening in Dubai, he woke up from his nap to see an alarming message from his girlfriend.

‘What are those photos?’

Panic hit in full force. Had something else come out about him while he was sleeping? He searched like a maniac for a full 5 minutes and also checked with his team but couldn’t find anything damning.

‘What photos?’

‘The dump you posted. What do you think you’re doing?’

‘I’m so confused rn, what are you saying?’

Jude checked what time it was. Was it jet lag or something?

‘You know fully well what I’m saying. Who gave you the right to look like that?’

Finally, he relaxed and leaned back against the bed, smiling giddily.

‘Look like what?’

‘Like a FUCKING GREEK GOD. A SUPERMODEL. Arghhh I wanted to bite you.’

‘Where?’

‘EVERYWHERE. So fucking edible’

‘I’m still in those blue shorts in case you were wondering. Wanna see?’

Jude sent her a quick selfie. Lying comfily in bed, in those barely there hiked up shorts, spreading his legs shamelessly for a better view.

‘What’s your fetish for tightest of tight shorts? It looked like it would rip any second.’

‘Maybe you want to rip it.’

‘I do.’

‘Why don’t you get like this when you are in touching distance of me?’

‘Don’t know, this is a first.’

‘I’ll give you a private show when you are back.’

‘Damn right you will. Especially that suit.’

‘Deal. And you’d wear something of my choice?’

‘Deal.’

‘Come back soon.’

‘I landed here 2 days ago, Jude.’

‘I know.’

He sunk into the pillows. She had to say her goodbye soon, since someone was at her door. It was the first time she had been away from home for so long so her folks were making a fuss around her. Jude knew she’d barely have any time for him next 10 days - between home and her college friend’s wedding.

It was time to return to Madrid tomorrow morning. Alone. His mom would follow in a few days, but he was going to have to be by himself till then. Even on New Year's Eve. 

Jude hated being alone. Not being around people he loved. It was the biggest thing that set him off. But he’d have to make do for a few days. He sulked in the car all the way through. Just when he had dragged himself out & entered his empty home, Agnes followed behind & handed over an envelope to him.

It said ‘Merry Christmas’ - in her handwriting.

She had planned something. There was a surprise waiting for him. All his annoyance was forgotten instantly. 

He jumped up & down then hugged Agnes wildly - the older man trying to keep his composure but smiling back at the display of young love. But when Jude tried to kiss him on the cheek, Agnes took his leave & left the giddy boy alone.

Jude ripped open the envelope and found a small piece of paper inside.

‘Did you really think I’d forget your Christmas present? 

Please remember who you’re dealing with here :)

Now, ready for your gift?

You’ll find it where we had our almost first kiss.’

Wait, so it was a treasure hunt?? His excitement went through the roof. He absolutely loved these little games.

Jude read the text again. Almost first kiss. What did that mean? Their proper first kiss was on her dining table, in her apartment. But he wanted to kiss her in the cafe too. And in the stadium. 

He read it again. Almost should mean where both wanted to kiss, right? He dug his fingers into his head, as if trying to stimulate the blood flow there, replaying the events of their first date. Was it the car ride on the way over, when they had held hands for the first time? No, she was still guarded then. The first time she had let her guard down was later that night….perched up on the kitchen counter.

Surely, that must be it. He ran into the kitchen, looking all around. There was nothing on the counter. He opened a few cabinets. Nothing. 

Think Jude. Think.

Wine. They were having wine then. The wine fridge was not in the kitchen though, so that couldn’t be it. Maybe the glasses? He bent down to open the compartment below the counter, and jumped at the first attempt.

A carefully wrapped package. 

He sat on the counter, tore through the wrapper quickly and found a scrapbook inside. There was a note on Page 1.

‘Special player. Special club. Special debut. Special memories.’

He flipped the page and gasped when he realised what he was looking at. The scrapbook contained clips & images of all the key moments in his life over the last 7 months. Each page dedicated to a particular instance.

When the news first broke of his transfer. 

When he signed the contract with Real Madrid. Photos with Perez and his family on the pitch.

His first interview with RMTV on his presentation.

His first training session.

His first match.

His first goal.

His first press conference.

His first brace.

His first MOTM.

How he first did his celebration with the fans.

When the fans first sang ‘Hey Jude.’

When the whole stadium joined him in his celebration.

His first Champions League goal.

His first Clasico & first Clasico goal. (A heart drawn at the bottom of the page because this had also been the day of their first date.)

When his debut season was hailed Ronaldo-esque. 

When his friends from Birmingham came over to the Bernabeu.

When he won the golden ball.

When Vini did the photo clicking celebration with him.

Some images of just his bromance moments with his team-mates. (A few question marks drawn at the bottom, along with an inquisitive emoticon).

His mum in the stands, cheering for him.

The penalty he won for England.

When he won MOTM in England shirt.

Some other photos from the England camp.

Jobe’s presentation at Sunderland.

The last image was from the last match before the break - with Jobe cheering for him in the stands.

Carefully curated by someone who truly understood what mattered to him - not just the professional milestones but the fact that he was able to celebrate those with his loved ones. That’s what made it more special. The images of how proud/emotional his mum looked, how his Dad had that big smile on his face, how Jobe seemed to be a bit in awe of the Bernabeu, how his friends screamed from the stands when he scored. Special, special memories.

He flipped through the pages one more time, reliving each moment. It still felt surreal. Almost unreal. Somewhere along the way his eyes had turned moist and he felt more homesick than ever. Gosh, what he wouldn’t give right now to fall into the arms of his folks.

Everyone close to his heart was captured in this scrapbook. Barring one person. The one he wanted the most right now. Jude hugged the scrapbook close to his chest, hugging himself in the process.

He flipped to the last page, thinking it was the end. But she was determined to make his day some more.

Jude squealed again when he saw the message on the last page.

‘Did you think this was it?

Nah, not on my watch!

There’s something else waiting for you. But can you find it?

Hint: Think of the first night I spent at yours.’

Holy mother of god! He had the coolest girlfriend in the world. 

Jude ran up the stairs, two steps in one stride, into his room. And started thinking of where it could be. Just then it clicked - she had stayed in the guest room the first few times, not here. In the next 5 seconds, he was standing in the middle of that room, looking around. 

He hadn’t entered the room that night, so there can’t be a special place she would be referring to. It would be somewhere generic. He started going through the cupboard and the drawers, finally finding his prize in the bedside table.

It was another cutely wrapped package, a smaller one this time. Inside was a tiny scrapbook.

He almost couldn’t believe what was happening. A part of him wanted to pause & guess the contents, but he quickly turned impatient and opened it swiftly.

‘A little something about us.

Thank you for making me believe in love again.

Your dove!’

Overwhelmed, he caressed the text with his fingertips, the words tugging at his heart. Then he leaned down and kissed the page, trying to picture her.

Bracing himself for the emotional rollercoaster, he flipped the first page. It was filled with pictures - a little ode to their brief journey so far.

Bill from their first cafe meeting.

Screenshot of their text messages from that night, when he convinced her to come to the game. It was the first time he had called her dove.

A picture of his she had taken from his box, when he was celebrating his Clasico goal. (It was the first time he was seeing this one.)

The attire she was wearing on their first date - Madrid jersey (not his; how he had sulked over it) and denim jeans.

Their texts from that night, when he had pinged her from the Clasico celebration party.

His jacket that he had left in her house - after their first kiss.

A screenshot when he face-timed her from an away game, and kissed the screen while saying goodbye.

Flowers he sent her every week. Not a single one was missing.

A random pic of Bridgerton, the show they were watching when things got a bit heated on their second date.

Different images of his she had taken while watching his matches on TV.

His jersey in her size - symbolic of their first catastrophic fight and also their first time together.

Random memes he had sent her, when he was bored.

A cup of hot chocolate - when he came to her after a tough match or a tough day at work & she cheered him up. 

A drawer in her bedroom - where he kept his stuff.

A goofy photo of him, Ananya and Roma, sometime after dinner on one of the nights in her place.

The crystal pendant he had bought for her.

The famous letter.

And of course, the last page had the heart pendant.

Jude felt like his heart would explode any second. All this while, he thought he was the more expressive one. He was more invested in their relationship. He had poured his heart out to her many times, with paras and paras about what she meant to him.

But she had eclipsed all that with the sentimentality of this gift. And the thoughtfulness to keep the two separate. The first scrapbook he could share with anyone and relive those memories. Because he would want to, she knew that. 

And the second one was only for them. Just him & her. His dove. A piece of his heart that was far away from him right now.

Jude felt like he would die or burst into tears if he doesn’t see her immediately. He video-called her and she picked up soon, smiling from ear to ear.

Of course, Agnes would have told her things had been set in motion. 

But her smile faded when she saw his emotional face.

‘Oh baby, what’s wrong?’

‘You’re not here.’

‘I know. That’s why I left a little something for you.’

‘I loved it.’

‘Yayyy.’

‘I don’t deserve you, dove. You’re too good for me.’

‘Not true.’

‘It is. I know it is. Gosh I’m so lucky.’

‘I’m the lucky one.’

‘I-I don’t know what to do with myself right now. It was so beautiful. So thoughtful. So full of love. Just like you. Come back to me, please.’

‘Soon. Soon, Jude.’

‘Well what do I do right now? Who do I hug? There’s NO ONE.’

‘Vini & Cama live close to you, no? Trent is far away but those two are just there.’

She smiled & winked to lighten the mood with a running joke of theirs. Despite the heaviness in his chest, he ended up giggling too.

‘Stop it.’

‘Did you notice the VERY SPECIFIC section dedicated to your boyfriends?’

‘I did actually. You missed a few though.’

‘Ooh my bad. Will add those admirers of yours too.’

‘Come closer to the screen.’

‘What?’

‘Just do it.’

She did. And he proceeded to sloppily kiss his screen all over, where her face was there. She laughed, the sound uplifting his spirits.

‘Yikes you & your wet kisses.’

‘Shut up you love those.’

‘Mehhh.’

‘How’s it going there?’

‘Lovely. I missed home so so much. Everyone is here right now, which is why I’m whispering, thanks for asking.’

‘I figured, didn’t need to ask. So, did you tell your cousin about us?’

‘Yeah.’

She was looking everywhere but at him. And Jude’s face fell a little.

‘Didn’t go well, then?’

‘Went horribly. She is seriously worried for my sanity.’

‘I see.’

‘Jude, all she knows about you is what she’s seen on the internet. All the articles, images, stories, what people have said etc etc - she googled the hell out of you after I told her. Then told me I’d lost my mind. Obviously it wasn’t gonna be easy in the first go. It’ll take time. I’ve told her my side of the story. But we have to be super patient here. It’ll take a while for the idea of you to grow on her. And on anyone here.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘But it doesn’t matter. Coz we have all the time in the world, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘C’mon don’t be like that. It’s New Year's Eve tomorrow. What plans?’

‘Training.’

She rolled her eyes.

‘I mean after training, Jude.’

He shrugged.

‘Your team-mates not partying?’

‘They are, but I can’t go to that one.’

‘Why?’

‘Let’s just say you wouldn’t particularly approve of that kind of party.’

‘I see. But can you just go for a bit and I don’t know, not indulge?’

He raised an eyebrow at her.

‘Or not participate. Whatever. You know what I mean.’

‘There will be questions if I don’t “participate” there.’

‘Because you used to earlier?’

A small pause.

‘Yes.’

Well, he had never made any bones about his lifestyle earlier. Didn’t think he was in the wrong in any way, coz he was single. Her view on it was different and it was a point of contention between them that they just had to live with. 

‘What about non-single folks then? Brahim, Fede, Lunin? You’re close to all of them.’

‘They’d be with their partners.’

‘Yeah so? You’ve hung out with friends & their partners before.’

He shrugged and pouted.

‘It’d make me miss you more.’

‘Are you trying to make me feel guilty?’

‘You abandoned me on New Years. So.’

‘Juude.’

‘Fiiine I’ll plan something with some of those guys. Jeez.’

‘Good boy.’

He stuck out his tongue at her, and she smiled.

‘Baby boy.’

‘Whatever. You really, really have to make it up to me when you get back. Like seriously.’

‘I think you deserve it.’

‘Damn well I do. When do the wedding functions start?’

‘One was last night. The rest are from tomorrow afternoon.’

‘Saw him?’

‘Yeah he was there.’

‘How did it go?’

Truth be told, she was pretending to be ok about this meeting but she had actually been super nervous. Keeping her emotions in check when it came to her ex had never been a strength of hers. It had always proved to be her undoing, which is why she had chosen to completely cut off.

‘It was awkward. We just greeted each other & went our own ways. Honestly, didn’t feel much last night. Or even now.’

‘Hmmm.’

‘You know why?’

‘Why?’

‘Because the person I am with you - I like that person more than what I had become with him.’

‘Mwah.’

‘Mwah to you too.’

‘I need to see all the pictures from all the functions - of you dressed up.’

The one she had sent last night was from the cocktail party but the traditional functions will begin from tomorrow. Jude was super excited to see her in multiple ethnic attires.

‘That was the deal.’

‘It was.’

‘Baby, I have to go now.’

‘I know.’

He said in a deflated tone.

‘I’ll call whenever I manage to sneak away for a bit. Just a bit mad here.’

‘I get it. It’s fine.’

‘I’ll miss you.’

‘I’ll miss you more.’

‘I’ll be back with you in no time. And your mum is coming in two days.’

‘Yup.’

‘Happy New Year in advance. It’s gonna be a special year.’

‘Our special year.’

‘Our special year.’

‘Bye, love.’

‘Bye, Jude!’

…………………………………………………….

Happy New Year, folks!

Hope you like this one. As always, would love to hear your comments / thoughts / messages. Thank you for all the love to Jude & Ananya!

One final chapter to go. There will be time jumps in that one.

[darksturnz]

copying/taking inspo from someone else fic/au.

i *believe* @bernardsbendystraws has an post about it (here) but apparently some people still aren't understanding it and still want to steal entire fics/au’s, so let's talk about it again 😸! 

COPYING & INSPIRATION:

they are two very DIFFERENT things.

The definition of COPYING is the act of reproducing, imitating, or duplicating something. It involves presenting the work as your own, either intentionally or unintentionally. imo plagiarism would be the 'big word" for this, but let's just stick with copying.

1 Direct copying: Reproducing text, images, or other content word-for-word without credit. EXAMPLE: Taking a paragraph from someone’s blog and adding it to your fic without mentioning the source. OR using dividers someone else created.

2. Paraphrasing without citation: Rewriting someone else’s ideas in your own words without acknowledging the original source. EXAMPLE: Rewriting a section of a fanfic in your own words but keeping the rest the same and not giving credit to the original author.

3. Using someone else’s designs or creations: Copying art, music, or inventions without authorization. EXAMPLE: Copying an entire blog layout and not crediting them. 

The definition of INSPIRATION is the process of being mentally stimulated to do or create something, often driven by admiration, ideas, or emotions. When it comes to finding inspiration from someone else's work, it means using their ideas, style, or concepts as a spark or starting point for your own unique creation.

1. Drawing influence: Appreciating aspects of another person's work-like their themes, tone, or techniques-and incorporating similar energy or ideas into your work in a way that is original and personal. EXAMPLE: You love the way an author builds suspense in their stories, so you use a similar pacing technique in your thriller but with your own plot and characters.

2. Transformative creativity: Taking what resonates from someone else's work and reinterpreting it, adding your own voice, perspective, or innovation. EXAMPLE: Inspired by a story about the going to the beach, you write a story about a secret cave they found on the trail there that explores completely different themes and ideas.

3. Acknowledging admiration: While the inspiration may stem from someone else's work, the outcome remains distinct and new, not a direct imitation or replication. EXAMPLE: In your book’s foreword, you mention how a filmmaker’s (or author) use of color inspired your vivid descriptions, even though your story is entirely your own.

Q & A

Q1: How do I know if someone’s copying me? A: Here’s a few steps I use:  1.If it wasn’t sent to you, have someone else read both materials and compare them for similarities. 2. Check the dates to see if your work came first. 3. Read their material yourself and see if it’s just a few bits that are similar or if the entire plot, structure, and timeline match yours.

Most importantly, reach out to the suspected author respectfully and clarify with them.

Q2: What do I say when I text them? How do I know if it’s the truth? A: Keep it respectful and avoid accusations. “Hey, I/someone noticed some similarities between our work. I just wanted to check if my story might have inspired yours?” It’s hard to know the full truth, but their response and attitude can give you insight into their intentions.

Q3: What if they don’t respond, lie, or ignore the situation completely? A: If they don’t respond or you feel the conversation doesn’t sit right with you, it’s okay to protect your peace. You can soft block or unfollow them, even without an explanation. Your boundaries matter, and you don’t owe anyone access to your space if you’re uncomfortable.

Q4: How do I ask to use it for inspiration? A: Most authors include details on how they’d like to be approached in their blogs or fic notes. If not, you can politely ask, “Hi, I really love your ___! Would it be okay if I used it as inspiration for my own work? I’d make sure to credit you.”

Q5: How is it considered copying if the trope/plot/pairing has been used for years? A: While common tropes or plots aren’t necessarily unique, the way they’re executed (specific details, character arcs, and dialogue) is. It’s still important to credit the creator if their work inspired you, even if the plot itself is widely used. 

Q6:What if they say no to inspiration and I have no other story ideas? A: If they say no, you should respect their decision and avoid using their AU/plot. Instead, use Google or Pinterest to search up plot/storyline/character ideas. Try creating something original inspired by the those themes or ideas, creativity has no rules.

AUTHORS NOTE: having your work copied and then being lied to over and over again is starting to get annoying and we should be *informative* louder so here's my interpretation of roses post (about copying + how giving credit helps grow your account or that's how i took it) but heavily aimed on some of the experiences i and a few moots have been through!!!

USING TAGS CORRELATED TO MY BLOG/MOOTS BLOGS HAVING ISSUES WITH COPYING.

[sunsetsover]

you know, i think the reason people fall into the 'kant doesn't care about bison at all, none of what he's doing or saying is real' thing so easily is because he's so good at compartmentalising. it's one of the most consistent parts of his character. we get shown in damn near every single scene he's in: kant constantly sets his own feelings/opinions/wants aside in favour of getting done whatever it is he needs to get done. and if you aren't paying attention it gives off the impression that he doesn't care, but that isn't the truth at all.

i know i talk about kant's role as a big brother a lot, but i genuinely believe that's where it stems from. from the moment his parents died, he had to tuck his own grief away in favour of tending to babe's needs, both emotional and physical. and in ep 6 babe refers to kant as the one who raised him, so babe really must have been quite young when their parents passed - young enough that kant is the one he considers to have raised him, not them. and i know i already talked about it in this post but it's worth reiterating that that wouldn't have come without sacrifice for kant. from context clues it seems as though he went from a student just like any other to basically a single father to a young, grieving child overnight. and kant loves babe. he clearly prioritises his wellbeing - in every sense - above his own. and that means kant's own feelings and wants and desires and even his needs getting thrown aside over and over and over again in favour of babe's. this is a pattern that must have gone on for years atp. kant probably no longer knows any other way to be: he always becomes what other people need him to be. who he is and how he feels get smothered in favour of that every time. and please understand that him doing that isn't an act of manipulation, but likely started as him adapting to the circumstances he found himself in as a teenager and became so ingrained in who he is that he doesn't even realise he's doing it anymore. (besides you can see when kant is manipulating someone. it's completely different. he's not great at it.)

because i mean really, do you honestly think kant was never scared going out stealing cars? do you think he wasn't petrified when he was caught? do you think he never wished for something else for his brother, for himself? do you think he never walked through the streets at night looking for cars to steal, wishing he could just go home? wanting his mum and dad? wanting to someone to take care of him for once?

of course he did. of course he was scared. of course he was upset. he's not a sociopath, nor is he some kind of professional criminal. he's just a guy who's been doing whatever he has to to get by, and sometimes that meant doing bad things, but he still has feelings and wants and wishes beyond that.

but the thing is, as it always has been, is that above kant's wants or needs or feelings sits babe. babe's wants and needs and feelings. his wishes. his dreams. and so kant pushes his own feelings to the side so that he could do what he needed to do - first out of necessity, then because he had no choice. but that doesn't mean those feelings aren't still there. it doesn't mean he doesn't still feel them.

but what place is there for kant's feelings? what use are they? babe needs feeding. he needs education. he needs school uniforms and books and new shoes. he needs someone there, on the outside. kant is of no use to babe in a prison cell. so what good does kant's fear do? where do his desire and his wants and his feelings get him? nowhere. dreams don't put food on the table. so he tucks them away, time and time again. he's scared, but he gets on with it because there's no other option. he wants, but he has babe to think about, so what use is it wanting anything? wanting to go somewhere, to do something, to be with someone - what's the point when he can't have any of it. he has a child to take care of, and that child's needs must always come first. that's the sacrifice any good parental figure must always make. so that's what kant has done. he's spent half of his life pushing his feelings away in favour of making sure babe is good.

why, then, would love be any different?

style can love fadel. he can want him, and he can voice it, and he can show it, because style doesn't have to think about anyone other than himself. there's no one relying on him, not the way babe relies on kant. and so if he acts stupid and reckless and falls in love with an assassin, the consequences of that will be his and his alone to deal with.

kant doesn't have that luxury - the luxury of loving bison. he never has. he has babe to think about. and on top of that, kant can't allow himself to want anything because to him, wanting is useless. it's pointless. he never gets to have what he wants. and he especially can't allow himself to want bison, not when bison is literally his get out of jail free card. kant can't go to prison because he has to look after babe. and it's the same pattern all over again: babe comes first. what kant actually wants doesn't matter.

so he locks it away. he compartmentalises it. we've seen it over and over and over: he gets angry at christ and he swallows it because he can't afford to made him mad. he gets scared and he grits his teeth and smiles. he starts to feel something real for bison, starts to see him as something other than his ticket to freedom, and in the next breath he's reminding himself (or style) that he can't. that they just need to get the job done, asap. if the captain just arrests them, then it'll be over and kant will be free and he can tuck those feelings and those wants back in their fucking boxes and he can move on. over and over and over you see him trying to convince himself of that, because that's probably what has worked before: just one more car, just one more job, just one more time.

but the problem is it's not that simple. being in such close proximity to bison and pretending to love him has shaken the walls he's put up around himself, and they've started to crumble from the foundation up. the feelings that were supposed to be fake, that were supposed to be kept on the outside of the wall have started leaking in to where the real kant is. his walls haven't fallen down, not yet, but they've been breached. and now he's knee deep in these feelings that he shouldn't be having. now, no matter how hard he tries to resist it, he wants.

i think that's what makes the scene in the bowling alley so heartbreaking for me. when i saw the preview i thought that kant was doing it for bison's benefit, to make sure he has one last good night before he's locked away. which he definitely was. but i also think for the first time in the whole show we really get to see kant - no games, no agendas, no angles. even their first meeting wasn't entirely innocent like that - kant was putting on a persona to get bison into bed. but in that bowling alley, when they're all alone and no one's looking and there's a very real chance they'll never see each other again, kant just lets himself be. he lets bison see him, even the ugly parts, the parts that have him breaking into places and cutting off the cctv and stealing from the drinks fridge. because bison told him, didn't he? that he loves every story on his body, even the fucked up ones? so in that bowling alley kant is no longer trying to be some perfect version of himself, the one with no history or flaws, the one trying so desperately to win bison over. he's not trying to be christ's informant. he's not even trying to be babe's big brother for once. he lets himself just be kant.

kant, who wants to be alone with bison in the place where they first met. kant, who laughs so hard his body can't even hold him up. kant, who sets up a fucking projector to project the northern lights all over the walls because he saw the pictures on bison's wall and knew how much he loved them. bison never told him that. but kant is thoughtful, and kant pays attention, and kant is romantic, and none of it is an act. all of it is him, loving bison despite himself. wanting him to be happy. wanting to give and give and give because that's how kant loves: by giving until there's nothing left of him. by putting himself second and the person he loves first. it's what he did for babe, isn't it?

and it's the real kant who, for just a moment, lets himself be reckless and stupid like style gets to be, like kant never gets to be, when he looks down at bison's face and says should we just get in the car and run? and means it. he poses it like a joke, but he means it. he wants it. and it's the real kant who sits in the middle of a bowling lane and plans a trip with bison, who lets himself truly want something for the first time since he was a child, probably: 15 days, kant will drive, bison will run the playlist. they'll see the northern lights and the puffins and the waterfalls. and maybe it's the freedom of knowing he'll never get to have it that makes it so much easier to allow himself to want it, but isn't that so much worse? knowing the only way he's allowed to want anything is if there's guardrails up, keeping him in line? stopping him from making the mistake of actually thinking he ever gets to have what he wants?

none of that scene was an act. none of it. in fact imo the only person he actually puts a front up with in ep 6 was style, trying to convince him to just let them go. that it doesn't matter. bc that was all bullshit and he knew it. and you can think what you want about kant's actions and his feelings up until now, but if after watching episode 6 you still genuinely don't see that kant is head over heels for bison, then you're either not paying close enough attention, or you've let your bias/dislike of his character cloud your ability to be objective about what you're seeing, and i mean that. he is so obvious.

just because kant isn't expressing his conflict or his discomfort or his feelings the way style is doesn't mean he doesn't feel any of it. he does. his words are lies. we've already established that about him. but his conflict and his love are written all over him, all over his face, all over in his actions. the love he feels for bison is delicate and it's fragile but it's undeniably there. and if you don't see that then i genuinely feel sorry for you because you're not only missing out on half the plot, but you're also missing out on something so genuinely beautiful it makes my bones ache.

[lovely-parasite-04]

Iced Coffee, Detective?

Agnes!Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Prologue of ?

SUMMARY: One of the victims of Westview goes a little further than everyone else to be nice to the town hero, Agatha Harkness, or Detective Agnes O'Connor. She doesn't know what she's getting into when the Detective asks her to come in for "further questioning."

WARNINGS: Mention of murder (its only like a sentence), Agatha being Agatha

NOTE: This is mostly experimental because I hardly ever write and when I do, it never sees the light of day. However, I am In Love with Agatha, and I never see anyone write much about when she was under Wanda's spell. The experimental part is that this is meant to be comical and reader doesn't immediately start out with a big fat crush on Madame Harkness. It's also more on the simple side in terms of plot. I'm posting this first little bit to see how people enjoy it, and if it gets a lot of attention, I'll try to write more.

"Large Americano for Agnes?" I shout from my corner behind the counter, swiftly setting the paper cup down as I see the familiar brunette make her way towards me. I turn to begin making another order, but stay put to ask the older woman, "Any new cases, detective? I heard you on the phone over there talking about a lot of work to get back to. "

Agnes (Agatha) takes a large sip of her iced coffee, testing the flavor and swallowing, before responding with, "I'm not supposed to talk about the investigation and I don't entertain rumors about how the victim passed." She barely made eye contact with me, but I'm shocked she didn't immediately leave after receiving her order. She is usually in a hurry to get her coffee and go.

"Oh... of course. Sorry." I have no idea what she heard me say, because I didn't mention anything about a victim. I know I don't necessarily have to play along with her delusions like I do; most people simply tell her to have a nice day and direct her towards the door, but I can't help but be fascinated by what she is going through.

Seeing it from the outside, anyway.

I was among the rest of Westview during the Scarlet Witch's spell. Just the thought of it sends a shiver down my spine. Losing control of everything but your mind can be terrifying, wanting to say something but saying something else. Being frozen in time until you were needed for a plot point for a completely deranged woman. Losing track of time and wondering if it will ever end.

Agatha Harkness had been a town hero, stopping Wanda Maxifmoff and freeing everyone in Westview. But now she was stuck in the same spell with no end in sight.

Her Nosy Neighbor character lasted for about 2 years and everything seemed to be normal. She would gossip with her closest neighbors and those who volunteered to check in on her and bring her groceries, and she pretty much kept to herself. However, her characters have started to derail into different "genres". The first shift the town noticed was around Christmas last year. She seemed to be acting out a Hallmark movie, following around this one guy while pretending she was just bumping into him and trying to show him the "true meaning of Christmas."

It was funnier to watch than any actual Hallmark movie I had ever seen. The guy was married with a family, and continued to tell Agatha as such until she shifted again. That was when I made the observation that in Agatha's delusions, she doesn't always hear exactly what we say. It's like her brain can't comprehend anything that doesn't fit the little world she's made, so it makes something else up entirely for her to play off of.

I'm also convinced that she is controlling her delusions now. Maybe not intentionally, but I no longer see the hold Wanda had over her. Maybe this spell that Agatha is under is different from ours. She has no control of her mind. We only had control of our minds.

I feel bad for her, and I'm really intrigued by her as a person in general - I mean she's a fucking witch from 1690's Salem - so I steal any chance I get to talk to her. It helps that she is a regular at the coffee shop I work at.

Back in the moment, I need to move to the other end of the counter to finish this new order, and I'm positive she'll walk away once I do. I simply say, "Have a nice day!" And start to step away when she surprises me again.

"You knew her, huh?" Holding the coffee close to her chest and mouthing at a straw she slipped in while I was lost in thought. She follows me around the counter, not bothering to mutter anything to the other customers she runs into along the way. Her whole focus is on me.

"I...knew who?"

She heard me that time, giving me the full name of someone I'd never heard of before.

"Oh, her? Yea. Yea, me and her go way back."

  I'm a sucker for improv, okay? What's the harm? Even if she found out I was lying, she can't hurt me. She lost all her magic. Right?

"If you don't mind, I'd like you to come with me back to the prescient, so I can ask you a few questions about the girl and the nights leading up to her death."

Well, fuck. My boss would never let me leave for this. A real cop, sure. The town cook? Absolutely not. "I'm sorry, detective O'Connor, I'd have to wait until I get off work."

"Relax, hon." She said condescendingly "Let's just wait until you get off work -" What a great and completely original idea, Agatha. "I'll give you my card and you give me a call later today, okay?"

She proceeds to hand me an index card with the name Wanda gave her, Detective Agnes O'Connor, above a phone number. On the back is her house address. All handwritten.

  Bless her heart.

  "Okay- I hope you don't hand these out to everyone..." The last part was more of an outside thought, and thankfully Agatha didn't seem to hear it anyway, waving over her shoulder and exiting.

----------------

[fluentmoviequoter]

Find Your Own Happiness

Requested Here!

Pairing: (initial) Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: After a falling out with your family, you move to LA and meet Tim Bradford. When he breaks your heart to give his to someone else, you're left completely alone.

Warnings: angst! a tiny bit of fluff, r has a sister, familial reconciliation, only half of a happy ending

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Seven Months Ago

“You’re not listening to me,” you exclaim, failing to keep your voice level. “I’m just asking you to hear me out on why I think this is the right thing to do.”

“Your feelings don’t matter in this,” your mother snaps. “They are dangerous in police work, and if you can’t understand that, you’re more…”

“More what?” you challenge. “Different? Weaker? A failure? All because I want to move to LA and be an LAPD officer.”

“There’s more to it than that,” your dad says.

“There really isn’t.”

You look to your sister and cousins for help, but they sit silently at the table. No one will stand up for you, so you’ll have to give up and accept what your family thinks and wants, or you’ll have to do something for yourself this time.

“I understand wanting me to follow in Dad and Grandpa’s footsteps,” you begin, quieter and softer. “But aren’t I doing that by becoming a police officer? Why does it matter where I police as long as I do?”

“Because our family is here,” your father barks. “The people I, my father, and dozens of other family members have locked away, the victims we’ve helped through over a century are all right here. Running to Los Angeles guarantees that you’ll disappear in the sea of blue patrol cops. You’ll be meaningless there, but you can make a difference here.”

Your jaw drops as pressure builds in your eyes. “You think I’m meaningless? Following my dreams and what I think is the right thing to do makes me meaningless and I’ll disappear into the back of some LAPD directory, that’s what you’re telling me?”

“We’re only trying to do what’s best for you,” someone interjects.

“No!” you yell, turning to see everyone around you. “You’re trying to talk me out of something so that you can brag about me, control me, and make an even bigger name for yourselves! And-“ You pause to laugh, partly because you’re finally seeing your parents' true reason for supporting you for so long and partly to keep yourself from crying. “I’m glad to be the one to tell you this. A police station like the one you want me to waste away in? That is meaningless. This station isn’t big enough to make a real difference in the big picture. Los Angeles? There’s potential there. So, if you don’t want to support me unless you can control me, don’t bother calling.”

As you storm out of your parents’ house with only a day until your first day at the LAPD, you sigh and let the tears you held in roll over your cheeks. Walking to your car, you decide that if the people inside, the people who are supposed to love you no matter what, don’t care, then you don’t either. No one comes out after you, texts to check if you get home safe, and they certainly don’t tell you goodbye before you board the one-way flight to LAX.

Present Day

“If player two – that’s you - was in a TV show, what would it be?” Tim reads. He drops the card and looks at you before he asks, “What is this game?”

You shrug and write your answer on the board. “Lucy said it was fun.”

“Lucy thinks filming documentaries is fun, we can’t trust her judgement. I love you, but this game is stupid.”

You blink at him, then say, “We have to finish this round. What happened to Tim ‘finish what I start and break their spirits’ Bradford?”

“He’s tired of… whatever stupid name this game has.”

Laughing, you watch him write an answer on his miniature whiteboard. When the timer ends, you show your boards to one another.

“Blue Bloods?” you read incredulously.

“Game of Thrones?” he counters in a matching tone.

“I can fight,” you explain as if it’s obvious. “And even if I couldn’t, Oberyn Martell would teach me.”

“You have a boyfriend. I’m sitting right here.”

“A boyfriend who doesn’t wear golden robes, and who thinks I’d be in Blue Bloods.”

“You’re from a family of cops!” he exclaims. “It makes total sense!”

You try to hide how your smile drops at the mention of your family, and it seems to work because Tim checks his chiming phone rather than asking what happened. It’s been over half a year since you last spoke to your family. Close to a year since any of them told you they loved you. You know it’s over at least until you can think of a way to start a conversation without falling into the same argument as before. If you could make an arrest worthy of getting your name in the LA Times, maybe you would have something to show them you were right.

“Is everything okay?” you ask Tim.

He shakes his head, typing quickly. “That UC op I mentioned – with the guy who looks like me? Something came up.”

“Need any help?”

Tim stands, slides his phone in his pocket, and bends at the waist to kiss your forehead. “I have to go to the station and wait for Jake’s phone to ring again. I’ll keep you updated, okay?”

“Okay,” you answer, tipping your head up for a real kiss.

Tim pecks your lips, apologizes, and whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you echo before the door closes behind Tim.

Looking around your empty apartment, you wonder why people who say they love you tend to leave before you’re ready for them to.

Five hours after Tim left, you get a text. Your heart drops at the noise because 2 a.m. messages and being a cop do not go well together. Reaching for your phone, you silently wish that everything and everyone is okay.

Tim Bradford Lucy and I are going somewhere with Dim’s crew. Angela has the info. See you when we get back.

 You know better than to reply, so you type Be safe. I love you and return the phone to its charger. Tim would have told you where they were going if he knew, so you roll over and try to sleep, even though you don’t know where your boyfriend is or what brought you to this moment.

Angela texts you when she leaves Las Vegas. Tim will have more to do, so you don’t expect to see him until tomorrow. Besides, it’s late, and Tim most likely hasn’t slept in the past two days. You open your text thread from him and see the unsent text, then decide to leave it. You can tell him everything in person tomorrow.

It’s after dark, but you’re not sure exactly what time it is when Tim knocks on your front door. He still has greasy gel in his hair and fake tattoos lining his skin. You smile when you see him, but he walks in with no readable expression, and his hands curled into tight fists.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, as you close the door. “Did everything go well?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine and we got the guys,” Tim mumbles. “I- I don’t know how to say this.”

“You can tell me anything, Tim.”

“Lucy broke up with Chris right before we left,” he says. You’re unsure how that’s relevant, but maybe there’s a point to be made. “When we got back, I took her home to drop her off.”

You nod, and Tim runs his fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you whisper.

“I realized something in Vegas.”

An uncomfortable yet familiar pressure nudges against your eyes. Everyone who says they love you decides you are meaningless.

“And you’re leaving,” you finish for him, dropping your gaze to the floor. “For Lucy.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Tim defends, stepping toward you.

“But it did.” You shrug and add, “You can go.”

“I’m–”

“It doesn’t matter. Just go, Tim.”

Tim nods once before he opens the door. With one hand on the door, he says, “Goodnight.”

And then he’s gone. You press your hand over your mouth as the first tears break over your waterline. Stumbling back, you let yourself collide with the wall before you slide down it. With your knees pulled toward your chest, you drop your head and cry for Tim, for your family, for yourself, and for all of the things that you have lost. It seems impossible to keep the things and the people you care about close, and the last seven months have led you to this point too many times.

You wipe your face harshly and stand. “Not anymore,” you decide aloud. Gathering your things, you know you need a break. There’s a diner on the corner that reminds you of home, and you walk toward it as you replay every moment of your relationship with Tim. Every mention of Lucy, every moment he was distracted or seemed to enjoy double dates with her and Chris, and all the little things that should have alerted you to the fact that there was something wrong pop into your mind.

In the diner, you place your phone on the table with the keypad shining bright. You type in a number you remember even after seven months of not dialing it and press the green button.

Miles away, a cell phone beside an open case file rings, and your father answers it without reading the caller ID. He says his last name and waits for the person on the other end to speak.

“Hello, sir,” the man says. “I’m calling about your daughter.”

Your dad sits up straighter, his breath catching at the idea of anything bad happening to you. He’s dreaded this phone call since you decided to follow in his path and become a police officer. He should have kept you close, he thinks, so that he could help keep you safe.

“She’s okay,” the man adds quickly. “Physically, at least. I’m not in the position to tell you the details, but she may need someone to support her.”

“I…”

“I know the basics, I understand it has been a while since you last spoke to her, but if my daughter were dealing with this, I’d want to know.”

“I appreciate the call. I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Wade. Sergeant Wade Grey.”

The dial tone trills once before you end the call. You planned to call your sister, but the thought of telling her that you’re heartbroken is practically admitting that your parents were right and you should have stayed home. You feel lost, and though this diner once felt like home, you need a real escape. Glancing at your phone, you sigh when you see the time. Your shift starts in six hours, so you need to go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow night, you’ll get as far from the memories of Tim and the meaningless police work you’ve grown to love.

The air is clear tonight, and you trace a random shape in the dirt beneath you as you watch the lights of Los Angeles beneath you. It’s quiet, and you wonder why you never visited the Hollywood Hills before. Tim wasn’t one for romantic outings – though he probably would for Lucy, you think suddenly – and after your first day at Mid-Wilshire, you didn’t have much time to explore on your own. So, now that you’ve had your heart broken and are completely alone, you find a pretty place and breathe.

You’re not alone, you remember. Grey heard what Tim did and helped you have a good day at work despite that. Plus, he put you on patrol far away from Tim. Grey has become like a father figure to you in Los Angeles, but you find yourself missing your blood family more often than before.

Gravel crunches behind you, and you shift so you can reach your off-duty weapon. The headlights turn off just before the driver’s door opens, and your eyes widen when your father steps out.

“Dad!” you exclaim, scrambling to your feet and rushing to hug him.

He wraps you in a warm hug, murmuring apologies as he cradles your head against his chest. He held you like this often when you were young, but you find that it’s more comforting and needed now.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” your mother says, approaching from the passenger side and joining the hug.

“I’m the most sorry,” your sister announces, smiling as she brushes your hair from your face. “I should have stood up for you. I was looking out for myself, and it wasn’t right to let you take all of that. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” you reply. “All of you, so much.”

“What happened?”

You pull your lip between your teeth and shake your head. “I started dating a cop. Stupid, I know. He was great, though, and I really loved him. Still do, even though he left me for his former rookie.”

“Scumbag,” your sister grumbles. Your mom taps her shoulder and sends her a scolding look, making you smile. You really missed your family.

“He wasn’t,” you reply. “I think he ignored his true feelings for so long because we were together. They went undercover together, and he couldn’t deny it anymore, not with it staring him in the face.”

“Don’t make excuses for people,” your dad reminds you. “If he couldn’t see and appreciate how amazing you are, he didn’t deserve you. Or your tears.”

You nod and wipe a tear, suddenly remembering you never told them where you were. “How’d you find me?”

“Sergeant Grey called me last night. And he gave me a few ideas about where you may be.”

“He tracked me,” you correct with a laugh. “He’s great.”

“He really is,” your mom agrees. “I can see why you picked his station.”

“So, Tim?” your sister prods.

“Grey is keeping us separated at work for now, which I understand. I just… It was a shock. It felt like everything was falling apart. I can’t lose anyone else.”

You’re wrapped in another hug as your family reminds you, “You didn’t lose us.”

As you drive back to your house with your sister in the passenger seat and your parents behind you, you feel like the hole in your heart is being bridged. Your phone chimes with an incoming message, and your sister is happy to read your messages for you.

“It’s a group chat with Wade Grey, Angela Lopez, Nyla Harper, and Aaron Thorsen. Aaron said, ‘I was team Chenford when I got here, but now’ and Nyla tagged you in a message that says, ‘Come over if you want to talk.’ And I’m not sure I should read the ones from Angela and Wade.”

“Threatening?” you guess with a smile.

“Moderately. Wade sent you a direct one, though. ‘He looks happy. Don’t let that keep you from finding your own happiness in your own time.’ He sounds like Dad.”

“He acts like Dad.”

“Then maybe you should let him set you up.”

You laugh, and when you drive by Tim’s house on your way home, you feel a tug on your heart that won’t go away anytime soon. Though you will have trouble looking at Tim and Lucy in the weeks to come, you got your family back, and maybe your relationship with Tim and the consequent broken heart was worth that.

"You didn't send the last message to Tim," you sister says.

"It wouldn't have changed anything."

"Maybe not. You can change something. Like Wade said, find your own happiness."

[accio-victuuri]

010225: LRLG submission 🔴🟢

what a great way to start the year! a very long submission from lrlg! yaaaay!!!!! let me start with the last part of the post which is a message from lrlg.

It's been a long time since we last met. Isn't it a bit too long? All the work in 2024 is completed. We have entered a new year. Let's meet more often. Happy New Year!

i’m crying!!!! it’s been so long!!!!!

i will try and include as much as i can — especially one that have candy potential. the first part is bobo talking to his team and it’s a long convo but the important part is this:

staff: “How come when I went to the store to look at it, there were men’s rings?”

🟢: "I don't know. I can't go to the store."

🟢: "You can choose a pendant. There are many styles of pendants."

staff: "Only the dragon tablet and nothing else”

🟢 “Buy gold and strike it yourself”

staff:"It's too much trouble"

staff:"Just go with the gold bars and styles."

staff:“Buy ready-made”

HAHAHAHAHAHA IM CACKLING AT YIBO. Why are you like this. His staff has it hard. Why do you wanna make them hand made the gold jewelry you want???? and is this for XZ? part of the new year gift?

🟢 "Good, the only purpose is safety first"

🟢 "Absolutely"

🟢 “The express delivery has been waiting for several days.”

🟢 "It was sent by xx. If you don't go back, I'll find someone to pick it up."

🟢 "good"

the next two paragraphs are convos between wyb and his staff again. they are talking about wyb having enough time to go home ( probably spend time with xz ). then another convo about accessories.

🟢: "What did you order?"

🔴: The food I ordered hasn't arrived yet."

🟢 "I'm hungry."

Staff: "It'll probably be ten minutes. Sorry it's late."

🔴 "You're so busy. You're abusing your employees."

🟢 "Ah? Ask her."

Staff "Sorry I watched the game late"

🟢 "It's okay, I was hungry early"

🔴: "Table Tennis"

Staff "You watch it too"

🔴 "Well, mainly you are playing it out loud"

Staff "Ah, hold on to a little bit"

🟢 "Have you ordered any fruit"

🔴 "You have a big heart, dare to watch the live broadcast"

"Hey"

Staff "Then we must be on the same frequency, order fruit slices"

🟢 "I am your boss, right?"

Staff "But he is your boss"

🟢 "Okay, okay"

the next part is them finally getting their orders! HAHAHAHAHA! they ordered too much and WYB was telling his staff that when he finishes filming he will give them some time off.

Staff: "xx is here, why don't you go and take a look first?"

🟢 "Okay, you go first"

🔴 "Take a few bites of this"

🟢 "I'll come back to eat"

🔴 "Hey, there's no onion"

🟢 Chew chew chew "delicious"

🔴 "You're born in the year of the dog"

🟢 😨

🔴 "My gloves have been bitten through"

🔴 "It's so bad"

🟢 "There's water in the cabinet. I'll roll it for you when I get back. You guys eat first."

Staff "I still have two new ones."

OMGGGG they are feeding each other! and yes XZ he is a puppy! Your puppy!!!! 🥹🥹🥹😂😂😂

the next paragraphs is when WYB has already left and XZ is left with the staff. it makes me feel things that XZ is so familiar with WYB’s staff. they are truly a team that he can even joke with them. you can tell the familiarity.

Staff "I'll treat you guys to a good meal tonight"

🔴 "I'll charge you a lot"

Staff "Hey, the boss isn't here?"

Staff "XX is here"

and they are talking about a watch that was sent.

🟢 "Why aren't you eating yet?"

🔴 "It's only five minutes, you should be back in fifteen minutes."

🟢 "I grabbed the cantaloupe, it's sweet."

Staff How come yours is already cut? I just took two pieces."

🟢 "XX has already cut ones, you didn't get them

Staff "They just cut it. Do I dare to take it?"

🔴 "It's cold whether you eat it or not"

🟢 "Wash your hands"

—-

🔴 "Is it so difficult to eat a meal?"

🟢 "Didn't I ask you to eat first?"

🟢 "Oh, then it's no different from eating at home"

🔴 "You're the one who said all the words"

🟢 "Why are you cursing?"

🔴 "Which word did I use to curse?"

🟢 "You cursed in a very civilized way"

🔴 "The sauce is too salty"

🟢 "Good God"

LOL they never change with the bickering! and how they go back to talking as usual after.

——

🟢 Let Brother X take you there this afternoon"

🔴 "No need for XX"

🟢 "What did you buy?"

🔴 "There are dogs all over your pants"

🟢 "Are you a little dog now?"

🔴 "Yes, you are a little pig dog"

🟢 👊🏻

🔴 "Hey, how can you be so disrespectful?"

🔴 "Why do I feel that this sauce is different from what I ate before?"

Staff "Salty and sweet"

🟢 Change the chef"

🔴 "Hiss"

🟢 "I'll pick you up in the afternoon"

🔴 "No need, I don't know what time I'll be back"

🟢 "Call me when you're done"

the last part is labeled as a funny story among WYB and his staff

🟢 "Who ate the spicy noodles?"

Staff “Everyone in the room ate them."

Staff "Too spicy, that spicy strips they bought online"

Staff "xx had a nosebleed after eating it"

🟢 "Let me taste it"

Staff "Don't eat it, I ate a small piece and now my stomach is on fire"

🟢 "Medical insurance can't be used anymore, this is how it is"

😂😂😂😂 anyway, WYB! Don’t eat that spicy thing!!!!

-END.

i am not authorized to translate the entire thing but these are the ones that stood out and included xz and wyb interaction! this is such a simple part of their life but that’s how it is. i’m glad they get to spend time together. the question is, when was this. lol. this post as you may have noticed is more on the translation and a tiny bit of commentary from me. i will do a longer reaction and crying post later. 🫶🏼

in the meantime, enjoy ^^

[greco-roman-jewess]

For 2 in her social contract video she talks about The Sexual Contract an old feminist book written by a transphobe and fails to realize that the transphobia is a consequence of the author’s philosophy not a contradiction of it. (Zarathustra’s serpent on YouTube has a great video about this called Breadtubes One eye Problem). I think she also has issues considering the context of the people whose work she talks about (unless it’s a pretty uncomplicated “he’s a white man so of course he thinks he’s the center of the universe” but that still flattens a lot of nuance) both when she’s relating things to herself and when she’s just talking about other people’s ideas she has a vague “life is harder if you’re not white” but doesn’t really interact with the more complicated “positive” for lack of a better word (like things from your cultural background not the external things from have your identity be marginalized) cultural influences that the writer might have. (Think for example how different Jewish perspectives on g-d, morality, and the basic purpose of religion are from Christians)

For 3 going through the whole video is like a novel length post by itself (Zarathustra’s Serpent also has a video on the Antisemitism video. I don’t agree with everything he says and he only focuses on the part where she lies to Israeli History for like ten straight minutes but I’d recommend that for the however long it takes me to make that big post)

As an overview

the part where she talks about Leftist antisemitism she basically goes “there are a few antisemitic Leftists like Karl Marx but there are also loads of Jewish Leftists… Like Karl Marx” and completely glosses over the fact that Marx basically wanted us to commit auto genocide well also not really addressing leftist antisemitism today or leftist antisemitism not from Marx

She can’t really seem to grasp the complexity of antisemitism and doesn’t consult very much Jewish philosophy on the subject

Her bit about Israel starts with “people need to criticize the Israeli government” and then without talking about the right way to do that moves onto “well we all agree Jewish people should have a safe place after the Holocaust but did you have to put it theeeere”

It’s simultaneously too broad and too specific it mostly focuses on the years 1920-1948 but doesn’t actually get that detailed about Nazi ideology or the cultural antisemitism of interwar Europe

Islamic antisemitism is not mentioned at all nor is Black Hebrew antisemitism or really Christian suppressionism

I have run out of time I’m Sorry Good Shabbos!

Someday I’ll write a deeply allegorical B-horror movie about a pernicious rot turning people into horrific monsters. And everyone one will laud it as great queer horror cinema completely ignoring my Judaism (and that the experiences portrayed work much better as representations of Jew-hatred) like they do with Kafka and X-men. Then when I make a clarification about my motivations they will call me an evil Zionist and Philosophy Tube will make feature length video on me death if the author and it will get 1k upvotes on the Breadtube subreddit and self righteous lefty assholes will host screenings of my movie “in support of Palestine” where they talk about “reclaiming it” and how I don’t get the point of my own movie.

And I will sit back and laugh at the irony of it all

[writer-freak]

Guitarist Choso

Guitarist!Choso who feels completely at home on stage, fingers effortlessly gliding over the strings of his electric guitar. The dim bar is filled with the sound of conversation, clinking glasses, and his band’s music. Neon lights cast shadows on his features, and for a moment, the stoic expression he’s well known for melts away, replaced by a look of satisfaction. Music is where he comes alive, where he doesn’t need words to express himself.

Guitarist!Choso who spots you in the crowd during their first set. You’re not dancing wildly or screaming like some of the fans closer to the stage. Instead, you’re leaning back against the bar, swaying to the rhythm with a drink in hand, looking like you belong there. The way the lights bounce off your face catches his eye, and before he knows it, he’s stumbled on a chord. He curses under his breath but can’t bring himself to stop looking.

Guitarist!Choso who, despite his focus on the music, can’t help but glance your way over and over again. His hands move on autopilot, hitting each note with practiced moves, but his thoughts are elsewhere. He’s used to being watched, being admired, even, but there’s something about the way you’re looking at him. It’s not the usual starstruck awe; it’s calm, thoughtful, like you’re seeing him, not just the guitarist on stage.

Guitarist!Choso who finally approaches you during the band’s break. His steps are deliberate, casual, but inside, his heart’s racing. “Hey,” he says, voice softer than expected, his tall frame leaning just enough to catch your attention. “You enjoying the music?” When you look up, smile, and say his band’s great, he feels like the air’s been knocked out of him. It’s been a while since anyone made him feel this way, like he’s just another guy trying to impress someone.

Guitarist!Choso who hangs around for longer than he planned during the break, chatting with you. He’s not used to talking much offstage, but with you, the conversation come easy. He learns that you stumbled into the bar on a whim and that you’re into the same kind of music he loves. By the time the band’s called back up, he’s gotten your number and a promise that you’ll stay to watch the rest of the set.

Guitarist!Choso who plays the second half of the show with more energy than he had in weeks, all because he knows you’re out there watching. Every strum, every note feels like it’s carrying a message just for you. And when it’s over, when he steps off the stage sweaty and out of breath, he doesn’t even glance at the other fans. His feet take him straight to you.

“Did you like it?” he asks, his voice a little rough from backup vocals. The slight smirk on his lips falters when you blush, telling him it was incredible. For the first time in years, he feels shy, scratching the back of his neck as he murmurs, “Glad to hear it.”

Guitarist!Choso who surprises you by being completely different from his stage persona. On stage, he’s magnetic, almost untouchable, but when it’s just the two of you, he’s sweet, a little awkward, and surprisingly funny. He jokes about how bad his first guitar was and how his little brother used to heckle him during practice. The more you talk, the more he feels like he doesn’t want the night to end.

Guitarist!Choso who learns you go to the same college during one of your late-night conversations. “No way,” he says, his lips twitching into a rare grin. “Guess I’ll have to keep an eye out for you.”

Guitarist!Choso who had never seen you before on campus but from that moment, he starts noticing you everywhere, at the library, in the coffee shop, even walking across campus. Each time, he finds an excuse to stop and talk, sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for hours.

Guitarist!Choso who makes you a playlist filled with songs he thinks you’ll love. “Here,” he says one afternoon, sliding over a slip of paper with a link. “Let me know what you think.” When you text him later, saying you’ve been listening to it on repeat, he smiles so much ,his bandmates not letting him hear the end of it.

Guitarist!Choso who invites you to another gig, but this time, it’s smaller, quieter, and more intimate. You’re standing right at the front, and when he starts playing a song that’s softer than his usual style, his eyes meet yours, and it feels like the whole room fades. Halfway through, he mouths, This one’s for you, and your heart skips a beat.

Guitarist!Choso who brings you back to his place after the gig. The tension that’s been building between you over weeks finally breaks. In his small apartment, the air feels charged as he steps closer, his dark eyes searching yours.

When he kisses you, it’s soft at first, his lips moving slowly, testing the waters. But when you lean in, pulling him closer, it’s like a switch flips. His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him, and his kiss deepens, filled with all the feelings he’s been holding back.

“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and gravelly, his forehead resting against yours. When you whisper a breathless “yes,” his hands are everywhere, your back, your hips, your ass as he pours himself into every kiss.

Guitarist!Choso who lays you down on his bed with care, like you’re something precious. His calloused fingers trace along your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and when his lips follow, pressing kisses down your neck and along your collarbone, you can’t help the soft sighs that escape you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as his hands and lips explore. Every touch, every kiss feels deliberate, like he’s memorizing you. He takes his time, worshipping every inch of you like you’re his favorite song.

Guitarist!Choso who is surprisingly gentle despite the attitude he shows to the world. He checks in constantly, his dark eyes scanning yours for any sign of discomfort. “You good?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, and when you nod, he smiles, pressing another kiss to your temple.

Guitarist!Choso who holds you close afterward, his arm draped over your waist as the two of you lie tangled in the sheets. The world outside feels distant, like it doesn’t exist, and in that moment, it’s just the two of you.

Guitarist!Choso who teaches you how to play simple chords during late-night jam sessions. Days filled with stolen moments, kisses between classes and quiet nights watching movies.

Guitarist!Choso isn’t just the cool guitarist anymore, he’s yours, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right

[tinyluvs]

⁺‧₊˚ smoke and mirrors 𖤐 swiss&mountain˚₊‧⁺

❥ summary; mountain is a little self conscious, swiss refuses to shut up about how perfect mountain really is, or mirror sex :3 ❥ warnings; anal sex, slight rimming, references to drugs, body worship (?), mirror sex, porn with feelings, idiots in love :) ❥ authors note; i don’t even know if like this anymore, enjoy !!!❥ wc; 5.4k ₊˚⊹♡⁺‧₊˚𖤐 read on ao3; ˗ˏˋ ꒰꒰ here !! ꒱꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𖤐˚₊.⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

smoke and steam collide in the air in front of mountain’s face as he exits the bathroom, steam pouring out from the humid room behind him while smoke billows from between swiss’ lips where he lays on his bed, his attention turning from his phone to mountain, half lidded eyes watching him in the mirror

“hey pretty boy,” swiss hums, his voice low and dangerous like it often is when he’s high, or at least getting there. his phone drops onto the mattress somewhere as he bustles, leaning slightly on his side to continue watching the earth ghoul as he ventures further into his room

mountain had forgotten to steal clothes from swiss’ dresser before his shower, leaving him without any other option than to come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped tightly around his bottom half. of course, swiss has seen everything that’s currently being hidden but those are different circumstances. regardless, swiss shamelessly stares at him, or rather more, his reflection, and mountain starts to heat up

a blush settles over his cheeks and he wonders if there’s any air left in the room at all. clean air, that isn’t milky with steam or smoke, that can filter into his lungs, which suddenly don’t seem to be filling up fast enough. holes burn into the back of his head as he reaches swiss’ dresser, tugging a drawer open in search of boxers, sweatpants, anything he can throw onto his body

“stop staring,” he murmurs as the red under his skin starts to travel down his neck, heating it’s path as it goes. he pulls out a pair of underwear and sweatpants, leaving them in a small pile on the top of the dresser while he searches for a shirt

swiss doesn’t stop staring, the holes in mountain’s head burning deeper and bigger by the second, “but how can i when you’re so handsome,” swiss teases, light and airy around a mouthful of smoke that coils up towards the ceiling

“i’m not,” mountain mumbles, pushing a drawer shut harder than he meant to, the entire piece of furniture tipping and bumping against the wall behind it. mountain whispers his reply, like he didn’t want swiss to hear it, though he does, he always does

a gasp escapes swiss before he can stop it, incredulous and over exaggerated, like he’s heard something terrible but in his opinion, he has, a sin slipped from mountain’s lips, “oh but you are,” he finally says, watching the way mountain’s tail bats around nervously under his towel

they’ve been through this thing, this game, this conversation, several times. swiss will make a positive comment about mountain, how he looks, his personality, anything and every single time mountain will disagree with him, completely unwilling to see himself as his pack mates see him

if you were to ask any of them they’d be quick to talk, beaming about how gentle and generous he is, how helpful and sweet or how handsome he is, desired by everyone that has had the pleasure of laying eyes on him and more often than not their compliments will be wrapped up with a gentle bow of love, all of them declaring just how much they love him

but, mountain will never accept any of these things, will brush them off, never once accepting a compliment that’s sent his way and that, in itself, no one would even consider to be one of his flaws because to them, he is without flaws, a perfect being in their eyes

“i’m not,” mountain argues back to swiss again, the blush fully blooming over his chest now. his search for a shirt goes forgotten about, his fingers busying themselves in a tray of rings on top of the dresser, swirling between cool metal while he attempts to distract himself from the conversation at hand

swiss sighs, not angry or with malice but slow and upset, something that settles deep in his chest with an ache, “mount-,”

mountain anticipates what is about to happen, what is about to be said and wants no part of it, “no,” he simply says, swiping the small pile of clothes from the dresser as he turns, refusing to even look in swiss’ direction before bundling himself back into the bathroom, the door clicking shut quietly behind him

it appears that there’s no air in the bathroom either as mountain leans against the door and wills his lungs to fill just enough for him to function normally. the clothes drop from under his arm, barely missing a puddle on the tiled floor as they fall into a heap next to his feet

condensation drips down the mirror, still fogged up and hiding his reflection from him, he prefers it this way though, not being forced to see the abundance of freckles that spread unevenly over his cheeks and chest or the way his antlers are slightly lopsided, one branching outwards while the other turns slightly upwards at the end instead

he’s not sure how long he stands staring at a blurred reflection of himself but if it wasn’t blurred it would be long enough that his brain would have completely distorted the image by now, twisting his reflection into something he wouldn’t even recognise but he would be convinced that it’s correct

gentle knocking on the door makes him jump, his body jerking as his head snaps away from the mirror, “mount, you okay in there?” swiss asks, his voice is gentle, steady and even but mountain flushes with the idea he’s made the multi ghoul worried, about him of all things

“u-uh yeah, i’ll be out in a minute,” he stumbles over his words as he turns, grabbing the pile of clothes from the floor as his towel takes their place. he hurries to dress himself, tugging boxers over his still damp thighs, the feeling makes him cringe but he refuses to make swiss wait any longer, let his concern build any further

when he finally opens the door he’s met with swiss, the multi ghoul leaning in the doorway with his head tilted and resting against the frame and a soft smile tugging at his lips, “hey,” he says, barely a whisper, his eyes never leaving mountains, though he doesn’t stare this time, his eyes fluttering shut in slow drawn out blinks

“hello,” mountain mumbles, his eyes tracking swiss’ hand as he pulls it out of his pocket and uncurls in the small space between them, palm open and facing upwards, an invitation. mountain flicks his gaze from swiss hand up to his face where the multi ghoul just nods, his hand making a slight grabbing motion in mountain’s peripheral

mountain drops his hand into swiss’, tension slipping away from his shoulders as swiss’ fingertips brush at his wrist. the feeling dances a line of being too ticklish but mountain likes it, his wrist getting heavier in swiss’ hold as he melts into the movement

silently swiss pulls on his wrist, not hard but enough to guide him out of the bathroom and towards his bed and mountain lets him, even as swiss turns them and walks him backwards until his calves are bumping the edge of the bed, prompting him to sit

he sits and looks up at swiss, who nudges his thighs apart to stand between them. smoke clouds around his head like a makeshift halo, which is ironic considering the tips of his horns are piercing through the thick air, creating clean lines in between the fog

swiss’ hands settle softly on the side of mountain’s neck, thumbs brushing the length of his jaw as he shuffles closer, close enough that the earth ghouls chin rests against the softness of his tummy, just under his navel, “so pretty,”

this time swiss doesn’t sound like he’s trying to prove a point, like he’s trying to convince mountain of it but instead like he’s thinking out loud, like his thoughts have grown legs and walked right out of his mouth before he could swallow them down and stop them

mountain chooses not to argue this time, so, he stays silent. his eyelashes kiss his cheeks and his fingers pick at a loose thread on the side seam of swiss’ sweatpants, content in his mates hold. swiss’ fingers drift from his jaw, sliding back to tangle into the hair at the base of his neck,

“you’re pretty,” mountain blurts awkwardly, one too many beats of silence between them that make his stomach knot but swiss smiles when he finally opens his eyes to look up at him and the knot unravels

“yeah? you think so?” swiss whispers, still smiling as he bends. the tip of his nose brushes against mountain’s before swiss tilts slightly to his left, lining their mouths up, hovering inches apart but he doesn’t act on it, not until mountain nods at his question and tilts his chin up

something swoops low in mountain’s belly when swiss kisses him, it always does but more often than not they’re caught up in a haze of lust, nipping and grabbing at each other so mountain has never had the time to fully process the swoop but while swiss holds his face so gently, like he’s terrified of breaking the bigger ghoul somehow, mountain feels it properly

he gasps softly, lips parted for less than a second before swiss is slotting between them to kiss at his bottom lip slowly. mountain’s back straightens, electric zapping up his spine while he pushes up into the kiss, his fingers pinching and pulling at the side of swiss’ pants

both ghouls' hands start to wander when swiss licks across mountain’s lip, tasting earthy in that way marijuana does and it’s all too enticing for mountain, a soft groan spills from his mouth. his fingers slide up the sides of swiss’ thighs until they reach his hips, squeezing lightly at the same time swiss squeezes at his shoulders

swiss isn’t sure if he pushes or mountain pulls but either way he ends up in the earth ghouls lap, his thighs pressing to mountains hips while mountain tugs him closer, arms looping around the multi ghouls back

“you’re,” swiss pauses, a little breathless as he breaks their kiss, “so fucking pretty,” he finishes, spoken like a mantra against a smattering of freckles just underneath mountain’s jaw. his lips trail further south, dancing along mountain’s neck and the top of his shoulder

mountain hums in a noncommittal way, neither agreeing nor disagreeing as his head tilts back to bare more of his neck to swiss. he starts to soften with swiss’ weight on top of him, slouching until he’s toppling back and dragging swiss with him, both of them bouncing lightly when mountain’s back hits the mattress

when swiss eventually pulls back from mountain’s neck, satisfied with the few purple marks he’s leaving behind, he looks blissed out. his lips are kiss swollen, shiny with spit and his eyes, which have started to redden around the edges, are somehow lit on fire with lust and twinkly with love, both at the same time

“look, how good you look right now,” swiss hums, sitting back on mountain’s thighs. the earth ghoul is splayed beneath him, antlers digging into the bed sheets, his hair a little tousled from swiss’ fingers, hazel green eyes blinking up at him in a question, swiss thinks he looks divine, “look,”

swiss takes hold on mountain’s jaw, turning and tilting his head until he’s looking back slightly over his shoulder and then, their eyes meet in the mirror. in the back of his mind mountain thinks the mirror has been moved, repositioned just for this, but he doesn’t have time to think as his cheeks start to heat up again

gently he tries to shake swiss off of him, allow himself to turn away from the mirror but swiss holds his jaw and his eye contact in their reflection. mountain lets his eyes wander a little, taking in swiss more than himself

swiss is painfully gorgeous, his horns aren’t lopsided, both of them curling back and then up towards the ceiling, identical twins, unlike the siblings mountain has on his head. little golden charms litter swiss’ hair, always managing to catch a light no matter where he is but as mountain’s eyes travel further down, away from his face, swiss starts to smirk

mountain takes in his shoulders, broad and muscly. his chest, the little bars that pierce his nipples and further south, past the softness of his tummy and then following the line of hair that disappears under swiss’ trouser line…

only then does mountain notice the tent forming in the front of swiss’ pants, the earth ghouls head turning away from their reflection, as if it’s lying to him, to look at the real thing and swiss lets him, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his hips lightly

as he rolls his cock bobs underneath his sweatpants, a small, miniscule even, damp patch starting to darken the light grey fabric and mountain’s mouth waters. his fingers move fast, sliding up swiss’ thick thighs and just as he’s about to get to where he wants to be, swiss wraps his fingers around his wrists

“wha-,” mountain whispers, blinking up at swiss and then back at where his wrists are being guided down to the mattress, either side of his head while swiss holds them there, “swiss,” he whines, bucking his hips up and nudging his own cock against swiss’ ass

swiss shakes his head, the charms in his hair tinkling quietly, “not about me,” swiss swallows, looking down at mountain while he does everything he can to not sit back on the earth ghouls, now, very hard cock, “just let me show you,”

before mountain can ask what he means, swiss turns his head again, bringing him back to looking in the mirror. he holds mountain’s jaw for only a second this time, satisfied he’s not going to bolt away from him, or at least he hopes he won’t because swiss is on a mission now

“let me,” he mumbles, pausing to swallow thickly, “show you,” he pauses again to kiss at the front of mountain’s neck, lips curling up when mountain groans right beneath his lips, “how pretty you are,” he finishes, eyes flickering up to make sure mountain’s still looking in the mirror

“okay,” mountain practically mouths the word, barely a whisper even passing his lips. he watches swiss shuffle back on his thighs, sucking in a breath between his teeth when the multi ghoul’s ass brushes directly over his cock

“good boy,” swiss praises, a low rumble that vibrates through mountain. the earth ghoul whines high, the desired effect swiss was going for as he lowers his mouth to mountain’s collarbone, immediately worrying the thin skin with his fangs. mountain whimpers when he starts to suck though, the swoop in his stomach returning as swiss works his way over his shoulders

a path of purple bruises mark out where swiss has been, starting on the earth ghouls neck, then travelling over his shoulders and collarbones and then swiss continues down, nipping teasingly at mountain’s nipples

mountain watches as he goes, see’s his own chest heaving, his stomach clenching when swiss sucks a bruise into his hip. watches his back arch as swiss drags his fangs across the lowest part of his belly, stopping briefly to nuzzle against the light hairs there and then unceremoniously, swiss gets off of mountain all together “lift up f’me,”

straight away his hips push up enough for swiss to tug his pants down. in the mirror he sees his cock spring free, hissing when the sticky tip slaps his belly, no doubt smearing precum over his skin, though at the angle he’s at, he can’t quite see

fortunately, swiss can see mountain’s cock, thick and fat where it lays against his stomach. the tip of his cock is flushed red, leaking pre into a little puddle and swiss can’t help himself. he swipes his finger through the mess, whistling low to himself as he does and then looks into the mirror to find mountain’s gaze already locked onto him

with a smile that’s all fang and cheekiness, swiss licks at his finger, cleaning it of mountain’s slick while the earth ghoul’s jaw drops, his eyes widening, “fuck swiss,” he whines, fingers twisting into the sheets

“uh huh,” swiss hums around his finger before pulling it from his mouth with a lewd pop. his tongue darts across his bottom lip, refusing to waste even a single drop of mountain, “you gonna keep watching for me?”

mountain nods, at a loss of what to say while he’s stuck, well, he’s not really. he could get up at any point but he doesn’t want to, especially not as swiss holds his gaze and slowly sinks to his knees between mountain’s thighs

“fuck, your thighs,” swiss groans, turning his head to lick a thick stripe from mountain’s knee, all the way up, his breath fanning against mountain’s heavy balls. the earth ghoul jerks a little, his own breath held in anticipation as he watches swiss’ head dip further down between his legs

the spade of swiss’ tail cuts through the air, catching mountain’s eyes and distracting him as swiss leans in and attaches his lips to the inside of mountain’s thigh, “shit,” mountain hisses, his hand shooting down to grab at swiss’ hair

swiss smirks against his skin, opening his mouth to lick and drag his fangs, red lines streaking up and down mountain’s thighs “pretty boy with the perfect fuckin’ thighs,” swiss sighs and mountain’s cock throbs, a little string of slick connecting the tip of his cock to the puddle just underneath it

in the mirror swiss reappears, his chin almost resting on mountain’s thigh, “pretty boy,” he moans, inching closer and closer to mountain, “with the perfect cock,”

mountain keens as swiss doesn’t give him a chance to process his words before he’s licking up the underside of his cock, from root to tip in one wet movement. his tongue swirls up and around mountain’s throbbing tip until he’s dragging his tongue against his slit

“swiss, f-fuck,” mountain pants, rolling his hips up to smear his cock against swiss lips, nudging them apart just enough for swiss to suck. a shudder wracks it’s way through mountain’s body, swiss watching in the mirror as it happens, the earth ghouls eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he’s looking directly into swiss’ eyes

the fucker winks at him, swiss actually winks at him before starting to bob his head, inching mountain’s cock into his hot mouth all too slowly, the tip of his tongue tracing a vein as he goes

it’s no secret that mountain is big, in all senses of the word. his cock is thick and long, something that most struggle with. some only being able to suck him down half way, their hands jerking off what they can’t fit. but swiss always takes him to the base, opening his throat and breathing through his nose as it presses to the soft hairs around the base of mountains cock

“oh my, fuck-ing hell, swiss,” mountain chokes on his words, his cock kicking in swiss’ mouth as the multi ghoul nods his head ever so slightly, grinding the tip of mountain’s cock against the inside of his throat

swiss’ eyes start to water, a fat tear running down his cheek just as mountain pulls on his hair, pulling swiss off of his cock with a pop. drool drips from the corners of swiss’ mouth as he sucks in a breath, “y-your cock,” he all but heaves, “fills me up so fucking well,”

mountain cries, his eyes leaving the mirror as his head tilts back and his hips buck up. swiss smirks to himself in the mirror, one of his hands pressing to his own cock which, admittedly, is starting to ache. he squeezes lightly at himself through his pants while he waits for mountains eyes to meet his again

“hey,” swiss says after a minute, tapping his fingers on the inside of mountain’s thigh. the earth ghoul looks down between his thighs but swiss shakes his and nods towards the mirror, “there we go,” he chirps when mountain turns his head

the angle they’re at hides where swiss’ fingers are dancing up the backs of mountain’s thighs, pressing into his skin, “hold them,” swiss tells mountain but the earth ghoul stares blankly at him, his brain moving far to slow for verbal instructions

so, swiss helps him out. he pushes moutain’s thighs back and watches their reflection, mountain gasps and jumps, his own hands curling around the backs of his thighs to keep himself spread and presented nicely

truth be told, mountain’s neck is really starting to hurt but if he moves, swiss will move and swiss is looking at him like he’s prey, his final meal, something but swiss? swiss is watching mountain’s perfect little hole, shiny and dripping with slick as it clenches around nothing

“damn it, you’re perfect,” swiss growls, his brain unable to come up with anything softer or sweeter as he dives in, pressing his tongue flat against mountain’s rim, “so,” he pauses to pull back, just enough to spit on the ring of muscle, “fucking perfect,”

and then he dives back in, leaving mountain to wail as swiss laps at him. the tip of his tongue teases, around and around, just soaking him and getting him dripping with spit and slick. his fingers inch closer, slipping between mountain’s hole and his mouth, “fuck, give it to me, please,” mountain whimpers

“yeah? you need it that bad?” swiss teases, cocking his head to the side in the mirror but, he’s not really teasing because he’s already pressing the tip of his finger into mountain and as the earth ghoul relaxes, just like he always does, swiss’ finger starts to sink into him

“o-oh, swiss,” mountain whines, though he’s not really sure what for but swiss hums and presses his lips to mountain’s thigh gently anyway, “move or, fuck, do something, “swiss,”

swiss kisses his thigh once more and then starts to slip his finger out, right to the tip before pushing back in, both ghouls groaning over the slick wet slide of it. mountain clenches down hard, his thighs tensing in his palms as swiss starts to finger him open, a second finger already teasing to slip in next to the first

slick drips down swiss’ finger and into the palm of his hand and he groans, his cock spitting pre that soaks into his pants, “oh shit,” swiss groans, tipping his head back to the ceiling, which mountain see’s in the mirror though he can’t see why swiss is doing it

“another, gim-give me another,” mountain huffs, doing his best to wiggle his hips and press his ass into the fingers teasing around his taut rim. he’s about to open his mouth again, to beg for it but swiss gets to him first, pulling his finger out and as he slides back in, a second joins alongside the first

mountain’s cock jerks against his tense stomach at the slight stretch, his back arching a little and though he may never admit it, being made to watch himself being taken apart is curling a dangerous heat through his stomach at an alarming rate

“so good, so fucking perfect,” swiss mumbles, entraced by the way mountain’s stretched perfectly around his fingers. he twists his wrist just right, crooks his fingers just so and drags his fingertips over mountain’s prostate

a gurgle leaves mountain’s throat, his eyes pinching shut while swiss watches his reflection, his own cock throbbing at the whole scene. in theory it’s filthy but somehow between them it doesn’t feel that way in the slightest, it’s just swiss and mountain, his mountain

“please, oh fuck, yeah there-,” mountain pants as swiss taps and rubs at his prostate before starting to scissor his fingers slowly, “fuck me swiss, need it s’bad,” mountain rambles, his thighs starting to tremble, vibrate almost, in his hands

normally swiss would at least try and work a third finger in, get mountain nice and loose but swiss isn’t sure how much longer he can hold out and he imagines mountain is starting to feel the same way, judging by the endless stream of pre leaking from his cock, which has flushed a gorgeous shade of purple

“y-yeah, okay,” swiss murmurs, slowly pulling his fingers from mountain’s body, growling at the slick wet sound that comes with it. on shaky legs and achy knees he stands between mountain’s thighs, “get on your knees,” swiss rushes to say as he folds over mountain to kiss him quickly, his free hand going south to palm at his own throbbing cock

mountain scrambles while swiss shoves his pants down, kicking them across the floor before joining mountain on the bed, “no c’mere,” swiss groans and grabs at mountain. the earth ghoul had been on his knees, just like swiss had asked but he wasn’t facing the right way

it’s not quite manhandling but swiss is moving mountain to exactly where he wants him, lined up in front of him, mountain’s sweaty back against his chest, directly in front of the mirror “fuck, look at you,” swiss swallows, looking over mountain’s shoulder at their reflection

he looks a sight for sore eyes, his hair is well and truly messed up now but still, somehow, it looks right. his torso is littered with bruises and little red lines and scratches left by swiss’ fangs. his cock hangs heavy, still dripping and if swiss looks real close, he’s sure he can see it pulsing

“perfect,” swiss sighs, turning to nuzzle his nose just behind mountain’s ear, he presses a quick kiss there and then slides his palm up mountain’s spine, pressing down until the earth ghoul bends forwards, planting his hands into the mattress to steady himself. swiss grinds his hips forwards, loudly hissing when his cock slips against mountain’s ass, warm and so, so, fucking wet

mountain is once again forced to watch in anticipation, thankfully this time without an ache building in his neck. swiss grinds back and forth, one of his hands on mountain’s shoulder while the other wraps around his own cock. he taps the sticky head of his cock to mountain’s puckered rim and then lines himself up

“fuck, ye-yes,” mountain’s jaw hangs slack as swiss pushes forward, an extra stretch from the slight lack of prep but it burns just on the right side of pain. mountain’s heat overwhelms swiss almost immediately, the multi ghoul having to still with just the head of his cock splitting mountain open, “please,” mountain whines, not quite realising why swiss is stopping

“i will, just give me a second,” swiss whispers through clenched teeth but, mountain doesn’t feel very much like waiting any longer. slowly but surely he presses back onto swiss, sliding himself down swiss’ length while the multi ghoul grunts and digs his fingers into mountain’s shoulders, “fuck mount,” he nearly shouts

the wrecked sound they both make when mountain fully sits himself back on swiss is loud, rattling off all four walls in the room, “oh fuckfuckfuck,” mountain’s head hangs, his chin touching his chest while his body adjusts, thankfully he doesn’t move otherwise swiss might have accidentally cut this whole thing tragically short

swiss’ tail wraps around mountain’s torso, pinning their bodies together, forcing mountain upright against swiss as the multi ghouls hand snakes up his body, wrapping gently around his neck, his thumb and finger at mountain’s jaw, “look,” swiss whispers against his ear

with a little whine, mountain looks, immediately moaning when he does. swiss is watching him over his shoulder, eyes burning into his again but mountain doesn’t look away this time, even as a blush spreads over his face, neck and chest, “swiss, it’s bad luck to have a mirror facing a bed,” mountain points out, a little high and whiny with an attempt to grind his ass back onto swiss 

swiss chuckles against his shoulder, “well i’m feeling pretty fuckin’ lucky right now,” and then finally, he starts to move, slowly albeit, shallow thrusts that barely grind his cock into mountain but neither are particularly bothered, groaning and panting loudly at the slightest movements.

“fuck me, properly,” mountain asks after a minute, feeling maybe a little bit bold but the way his cheeks burn regardless isn’t lost on swiss. mountain wraps a loose fist around his own cock, humping his hips forwards and that jumpstarts swiss, the multi ghoul pulling back slightly before canting forwards to meet mountain’s thrusts in the middle

“you, are, so, fucking, perfect,” swiss chants, each word punctuated with a thrust that mountain feels in his chest, air being punched from his lungs every time their bodies meet with a clap of skin on skin, “perfect boy, my perfect boy,”

tears slip from mountain’s eyes, his free hand reaching back to slide around swiss’ thigh, squeezing tight and grounding himself, “yours,” he repeats with a cry, his hand practically flying over his sticky cock as he hurtles towards his orgasm

swiss tuts, shakes his head in the mirror, “my what?” he asks before sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes flickering down to watch his cock slipping in and out of mountain’s tight clutch, “say it mountain,” he prompts and sinks his weight into his knees, tilts his hips up just right and on the next thrust he nails his cock right against mountain’s prostate, “say. it.”

mountain sobs, “i-i’m yo-, oh fuck,” he trails off into a whine, panting and shaking as his hand jerks over his cock with earnest. swiss presses his fangs to the top of mountain’s shoulders, eyes burning into him in the mirror, “fuck swiss, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna fu-cking cum,”

“not until you say it,” swiss huffs, willing his own orgasm to hold off for just a minute even though it’s right there. swiss’ hand slides from mountain’s neck to his hair, pulling back enough for swiss to get his teeth dragging against his neck, “say you’re perfect, say you’re mine, then you can cum,”

“fuck!” mountain shouts, squeezing his eyes shut and letting fat tears drip down his cheeks, “i’m yours, i’m yours, your perfect boy,” he rambles through a heave and swiss growls, doubling down before he even finishes the sentence

swiss fucks into him hard and maybe a little too fast, causing mountain to hold on, his fingers digging into swiss’ thigh more than enough to leave dotted bruises, “fuck yeah you are,” swiss groans, listening to the little ruined sounds mountain’s making, “gonna cum f’me?”

mountain nods, as best he can with swiss’ hand wound tight into his hair but words are useless to him, just a myriad of garbled sounds tumbling past his lips. he clenches impossibly tight around swiss, a little close to shoving the multi ghoul out completely but swiss drives forwards, bumps the tip of his cock against where mountain needs him most and they both fall

“fucking, oh fuck, shi-t mountain,” swiss rambles when, in the mirror, mountain’s cock starts to squirt, thick ropes of cum splashing over the bed in front of them, soaking puddles into the fabric, “o-oh fuck,”

swiss’ cock twitches deep inside mountain and then the damn breaks, spilling hot and entirely too fast as he does his best to fuck mountain through it, “oh, oh fuck, oh,” mountain shudders with overstimulation, his body feeling like a live wire as swiss’ cum floods into him with each little thrust 

eventually the little humped thrusts stop, both boys spent and panting as mountain sinks back against swiss, his head rolling back onto swiss’ shoulder. little puffs of air fan over swiss’ ear as mountain whimpers quietly. a stray tear runs down the earth ghouls cheek though it doesn’t get far before swiss reaches up to swipe it away  

the tail holding their bodies together loosens and falls away, hanging limp behind swiss with little to no current purpose, “i love you,” swiss pants, his body bending as he rests his forehead between mountain’s shoulder blades, “perfect boy,”

mountain nods, doesn’t argue, doesn’t even want to as their bodies sway together, “i love you too,” he confesses what swiss already knows, quietly, while swiss maneuvers them into a sort of pile on the bed, their faces towards each other, no mirror in sight, “what?” mountain whispers when swiss smiles wide, all fang and teeth, his tongue peeking out between them

swiss takes in a deep breath and then peppers kisses all over mountain’s face, “perfect, perfect, mine, all mine, perfect,” he mumbles after every little kiss and then as swiss swoops in to kiss him properly,

“my perfect boy”

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