#sweet eccentric old man….

[finderseeker]

@leucoratia Thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about him even more

First off, I’m glad this solution seems to be such a hit!! I just couldn’t reconcile the character WD was becoming/had become with what we know of Gaster. So this works well!!! (Despite the questions it raises meta-wise.)

*Rubs my hands together evilly* Okay SO! WD and his relationship with Grandpa here. I haven’t completely decided on anything just yet but I do have some Ideas. Some Notions if you will.

I think there’s pressure to get into the field from family, yes. But I don’t think it was necessarily negative pressure, if that makes sense. Like, I’m not sure it was the kind of thing where they would have been disapproving or upset if he chose some other career, per se. More that they didn’t even consider the possibility that he would choose anything else. Sans is a physicist, Papyrus is an engineer/mechanic/something like that, and they’re both very smart, but WD, oh, he’s the prodigy. He’s the golden child, even for all his quirks and rarities. An anxious disposition and weirdly long tail and unusual font and cracked lip aside, he’s got so much going for him!

I think that, likely, in their efforts to ensure that he didn’t feel any different than anyone else regarding disposition and physical traits/limitations, and that he knew he was ✨special✨ because he’s so smart, his parents probably made it all worse, actually. Not acknowledging that he was, in fact, different and unusual only made him feel more invisible. Which of course made him feel bad, because he was the main focus of his family’s attention. (‘How can I be unsatisfied with when I get so much attention compared to my brothers? Am I just spoiled?’)

He felt he had no time to goof around, no time to play, because he ought to be studying and learning more. ‘Why, with a mind like that, he surely takes after his grandfather in more than just font! Perhaps he will be the next Royal Scientist!’ said everyone. Which, y’know, gets to you as a kid.

While it was only ever meant to be encouraging, the pressure to live up to that was overwhelming. It’s not just that he’s named after his grandfather, it's not just an abstract sentiment for skeletons. He’s got his font. Which, apparently, suggests some other similarities. He’s always The Serious One among his brothers because they’re always goofing off (from his POV anyway) when they should be working! How can they be so lackadaisical? The fate of all monsters rests on them helping their grandfather; how can they be so relaxed just because they aren’t on the clock? Is their pay the only thing that matters to them!? They should be endeavoring to find solutions at all times!

So. Yeah. His mindset is very much shaped by the idea that it’s his responsibility to use his abilities to help others. It’s not as simple as letting his family down. What he wants has never been a factor in the equation, and so he doesn’t linger on it. The way he exists has already dictated his life course. It’s as simple as that. It’s not out of love for others— whether his family specifically or monsterkind at large— but rather out of obligation and responsibility. He does not feel a particularly strong affection towards monsters in general. (The opposite, actually.) He has never seen the surface, and frankly, with as dangerous as humans are, he doesn’t entirely understand why or agree with the idea that getting up there would be a good thing to begin with. But breaking the barrier is the goal that’s been put in front of him, and so that’s what he works towards. Along with the supposedly more achievable goal of “helping people,” despite that being an incredibly vague and nebulous concept with no real direction.

He’s got this whole complex about what he’s supposed to be. No one is actually stopping him from being anything else, but the barriers he’s erected in his own mind feel immovable. If he has all of this ability, how could he not use it? Everyone is relying on him to be as brilliant as his grandfather and carry this mantle, but no one understands the pressure he’s under. No one understands anything! Even Papyrus, who practically never sleeps, doesn’t appreciate why he can’t just “take a break.” If he doesn’t accomplish something, he will never be free from these expectations!

I think deep down that’s why he kind of idolizes sci-fi supervillains? All the intelligence, all the means, and they use it for their own interests! They are beholden to no one, only themselves, and even the “heroes” can never stop them for good. Sometimes, the villains have better motivations than the heroes, even. I think WD’s fantasy, subconscious or not, is being able to go completely off the rails and create and do something utterly selfish. He has some bizarre resentment, I think, against people in general. Maybe it’s envy, in the sense that they lack the burden he does. Maybe it’s some kind of frustration that they’re all just standing around, twiddling their thumbs and waiting for some kind of “salvation” from either the king or from them, the scientists responsible for every other quality of life. If this solution needs to be found so desperately, why is it being left to so few people!? Why aren’t study of human magic and other magical-scientific disciplines a required field in schools? Why is there not a requirement that all who are able work on this pressing issue!?

So. He’s got this buried, probably subconscious resentment. He’s always irritated because of it. It feels like he’s the only one taking this seriously, and therefore the only one who can do anything about it. Rather than be reassured that no one is forcing this on him, his perception is that because no one else will “take it seriously” (read: “work ceaselessly”), it must fall to him. He has to. Because otherwise it will always be hanging over his head.

Now. Grandpa Gaster definitely doesn’t approve of… any of this. (In general, not the supervillain thing. WD is taking that secret to the grave.) Gaster encourages him to take breaks and not work himself so hard. Unfortunately, despite his kindness and reassurance, WD only sees that as, “Look, this is so simple for him that he doesn’t even need to exert effort! He thinks I’m far more capable than I am, he must think I’m accomplishing more than I actually am. I have to work harder so that I can reach that level and live up to this.”

Yeah.

Gaster is quite caught up in his own work, and although he cares very much for his grandsons, I don’t think he’s entirely… connected with them. He doesn’t realize what WD is putting himself through, entirely. He just sees a bright, like-minded young man with a strong work ethic and a love for helping others! Even if he’s a bit prickly and perhaps embarrassed about it. But he’ll come around! Young people are so caught up in how they’re perceived by others; surely WD will mellow as he ages.

(Spoiler: he doesn’t. Or, he doesn’t really get the chance to.)

The biggest difference between them is that Gaster is doing this because he loves people and he loves his work. All his efforts are a labor of love. For monsters, for unity, for freedom, for the universe. WD is doing this because he feels that he must. He is not especially moved by love. He doesn’t gain a sense of purpose from this, he only feels burdened.

Gaster doesn’t quite… pick up on this. I think he would love to have a warm relationship with his grandsons, and prooooobably does more with Sans and Papyrus. WD, meanwhile, has so many self-inflicted mental barriers and blocks and restrictions and obligations that he’s created this artificial distance between them. It really, really doesn’t need to be this way, but unfortunately our perception shapes our reality, and the stronger a person believes something to be a certain way— that is, the less open they are to being wrong— the stronger they shape their reality. Someone like Gaster, who is open to different interpretations and understandings and so on, is more likely to see reality for what it is— but even he’s not infallible, because he is a singular person who has his own experiences and therefore his own perception. He thinks WD is just “at that age” (whatever that means) and is simply trying to prove something or is overly worried about what other people think of him, and that it will pass with time. He doesn’t understand that WD is torturing himself over pressure that isn’t even real.

He thinks it's so wonderful that WD wants to work with him and spend time with him, and oh, he's such a bright young man, he will surely accomplish so much! He's so proud of him.

WD is... not really capable of accepting love (in the form of acceptance or pride) from others right now, because I think he feels like he has yet to earn it, maybe? He's got this impossible standard he's trying to reach,* and he's depriving himself of everything until he can get there. (Which will be never.) He's miserable and it's all self-inflicted. It doesn't even need to be this way. ((He and Seeker (the character) have this in common I think…))

He does love his family. He loves his brothers and his parents (probably?) and his grandfather and his cousin(s). He loves them way more than he'd ever admit out loud. He's exasperated that none of them seem to Get It, but he's so convinced that he's the only one who's right that there's really no telling him otherwise. He doesn’t even know what he wants, only that he doesn’t have it and can’t have it. (Except, he can, of course, if he would just freaking calm down for a second.)

The funny (or sad) thing is that if he could just get past this thing he’s got in his mind, he’d be a much happier, more fulfilled person. If he weren’t busy stressing himself out and running himself ragged (and actually making his own anxiety worse in the process), he’d be a warm, conscientious person and a loving, attentive partner. As it stands, he’s Stress Response Central and essentially is slowly cutting himself off from the people who care about him, rather than rely on them. (This potentially includes Asteri, but their relationship is a whooole different post.)

If he keeps on this path, one of two things is going to happen: he’s either going to end up killing himself (or worse) by falling into the same thing that shattered Gaster in some desperate last-ditch attempt to Fix Everything; or he’s going to crack (no pun intended) under the pressure and burn out in an absolute fireball of metaphorical explosives.

And from the outcome where he doesn’t die/end up meeting a similar fate as his grandfather, there are two outcomes.

So, he’d burn himself out gifted kid style, but like several times worse. Has a complete breakdown and it resigns him to being stuck at home/in bed recovering his mental and emotional energy. But also being extremely depressed and probably rotting a little bit. And isolating even more, honestly.

The good ending would be him slowly recovering and making peace with not being The Only One Who Can Fix Everything, and maybe not even staying in the same field of work (if he can work anymore). The good ending also involves him being on good terms with Tempus again. (But that’s an entire can of worms I’m not touching here.) If he’s anything like me, it’s gonna take a few years (minimum) of rest and recovery after pushing himself that hard. I would not be surprised if he causes some permanent damage to himself (either mentally/emotionally or physically) that renders him unable to work/do what he used to.

The bad ending is that he rots in bed and wallows in depression and mourns the fact that he “wasn’t good enough” to stand up under the weight of everything and Fix It. And he just. stays like that. Isolating himself more and more, refusing to talk even to his brothers. And also Tempus still hates him. And that’s it that’s his whole life. The rest of it is spent mourning and regretting and reliving every decision that got him here, reflecting on all the things he deprived himself of in pursuit of his goal, only to fail and end up unable to have those things now that he has all the in the world. Self-deprivation of pleasure or enjoyment or rest, and for what? To break down under the weight of it all and have none of it anyway. He should have enjoyed what he was offered when he had the chance to accept it.

Anyway, as you can see I have a lot of feelings and thoughts about him (and this isn’t even all of them). I doubt that he resents his grandfather, but I do think that with the way things end up, he feels like a disappointment to him and there’s really no way to ever be assured otherwise because Gaster’s gone by that point. But I guess that’s part of the point, really: that you’ve gotta be okay with where you are so long as you’re doing what you can (to a reasonable degree), even if it disappoints other people. I think WD needs a lot of things but honestly I don’t even know how to begin to help him. He needs to go on vacation.

On an ENTIRELY unrelated note, I may have come up with a really funny (read: “stupid”) solution to the problem mentioned in the second half of the tags on this post.

Which isn’t what I wanted to focus on. I need to work on the stuff I already have going. But. It would be funny and unfortunately sometimes that’s the most compelling thing.

I will elaborate on what this possible solution is tomorrow.

[allurilove]

Teenager Yandere Husband x teenager you

“What would happen if you went to the same school as him?”

Rated 16 + — regular ol’ short content !

Teen!Yandere Husband had a major scene phase starting sophomore year. It was his way of saying ‘fuck you’ to his old man, and he started to grow as his own person. He was finally able to express himself in a way his father tried to repress. His father was interested in fashion, creating multiple pieces and clothing that had made it to the runways, but he made sure teen!yandere husband looked proper. Not dressing him in the eccentric and world stopping outfits his father was known for, but the cookie cutter boy you see in those movies about snobby rich people. His dad thought his new bright hair was hideous, and when he started to cut up holes in his jeans— he got a whooping that night. That didn’t stop teen!yandere husband, it only fueled him to go all out. He had black eyeliner on his waterline, multiple rhinestone belts on his hips, and wore long striped socks with his boots. He donated all of his old polo shirts, cream white sweaters, and traded his name brand shoes for a pair of converses.

Teen!Yandere Husband enjoyed listening to My Chemical Romance, 3OH!3, and Get Scared. He had all of their latest music downloaded onto his mp3 player, and he listened to it with his girlfriend at the time. They both shared an earbud, and his arm was around her shoulders. She was just the type of girl he liked: she had those skunk extensions in her hair, long eyelashes, fishnets on her arms, and she smelled like a record store (idk if that’s a compliment). But alas, all mildly good things came to an end when he was broken up with. She wanted an alternative man by her side, and he wasn’t enough for her.

Teen!Yandere Husband started to grow out his hair junior year. He had to constantly brush his bangs out of his face, blowing at the strands whenever they poked at his eyes. He was this tall six foot two guy, bumping into people in the hallways with his wide shoulders. And he had an attitude. He didn’t apologize, just grunting out a ‘watch it’ before he stomped his way to his class. Teen!yandere husband also picked fights with anyone that tried to comment on his appearance. He knew how to throw a mean punch, and he learned it all from his great aunt. Breaking peoples noses and fingers were easier than he thought, and getting away with it was just as sweet than the thrill he felt. His father made constant excuses for teen!yandere husband, saying that it was just a phase and he was just a boy, and if that didn’t work… well a gracious donation would be sent to the school.

Teen!Yandere Husband got his dick pierced the summer before senior year. It was a risky move, his father was already on the brink of snapping at him and kicking him to the curb. But, thankfully his aunt was cool about it, and signed the paperwork. While he was at it, he got his ears and belly button done too.

Teen!Yandere Husband noticed you around senior year. He was cleaning up his ‘bad boy’ act, trying to get on people’s good side before the year ended. While he was on his apology tour, he saw you sitting at the library alone. He doesn’t remember if he had done anything horrible to you, and if he did, he would absolutely beat himself up for it. He was about to approach you, but then he suddenly remembered his appearance, and was self conscious about the way he looked. Who would love to be with a mess of a man like him? Surely, you already had people lining up to be with you.

Teen!Yandere Husband made his first move by asking you to sign his yearbook. You had made him nervous. Just your presence alone was making him sweat. He held brief eye contact with you when he asked, leaning against the white bricked wall with a blush to his cheeks. His voice soft and yet baritone, and he held up the yearbook for you to write your name in.

“Ah yeah… I think we had like one class together? With that really grumpy man that’s about to retire soon.”

You smiled, a little snort coming from you. He watched you add a little heart into your name. “You’re gonna have to be specific. That’s like half the teachers here.”

“You know,” he was totally talking out of his ass, “the teach that shakes his fist whenever he sees teens running down the halls.”

“Really? That’s odd. I never had a male teacher.”

“W-What? Oh-“ he gulped, adverting his eyes towards the ground. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and he awkwardly shifted between his weight. “Maybe I’m misremembering things.”

“If we took a class together… I definitely would have remembered.”

That left him speechless. Did you mean that in a good way?

“You’re sort of hard to forget… you kind of look like Sam Monroe from Life as a House.” you bit your lip, and your eyes took in the sight of his dark but colorful clothing. He had this scent that made him smell like fresh rain and wood.

He hadn’t seen that movie, but he was gonna guess on a whim that might’ve been your way of saying he’s … cute?

Teen!Yandere Husband got your number and followed you around all summer. He was actually shy when he got to hang out with you outside of school. Hours before he met you, he walked back and forth in front of his mirror, trying to give himself a pep talk before the hangout. He wasn’t this nervous before, and he started to fret about his appearance. He had put on his best jeans, clean shoes, and the classic sort of fancy tee. He picked you up in his red corvette, playing music from the radio incase you didn’t like what he usually listened to. He was determined to make this “hang out that’s totally not a date” perfect.

Teen!Yandere Husband casually paid for your things, and opened all the doors for you. He totally thought he was winning in the ‘gentleman’ department. He gave you compliments that teetered between the lines of flirtation, and just being friendly. He actively listened to whatever you had told him, making mental notes to bring them up in later conversations. That seemed to make you happy. You two had stopped by a carnival he coincidentally had tickets for. He tried his hardest to help you at any game, and he was pretty good at throwing darts. He happily smiled for whatever photo booth you brought him into, not once complaining when you wanted to use props.

Teen!Yandere Husband had genuinely smiled whenever he was around you. You just made life better. You were his little comedian, his best friend that’ll he never forget.

Full fics: these fics are an aged up version of yandere husband obvs, and it contains smut.

#1 #2 #3 #4 (coming soon)

Allure: this would be soo him if he were to text reader.

[cultven]

can i get a Deadpool x reader x wolverine where reader is making them watch asmr with them at bedtime :3

🍒

ASMR Cuddles

Deadpool X Reader X Wolverine

Content: Some cursing, Wade being a yapper as always, Grumpy Logan, Fluff, Cuddles, Slime!!, Small Blind Al content

Word Count: 827

Warnings: None

a/n: This request was just too funny not to write, just thinking about these two men and their different reactions. Wrote this super fast on a whim so hopefully it's ok! Short and sweet :)

“Hurry!” You whined, getting all cozy. This has become a daily routine with the three of you, you get comfy in bed while the other two men stall sleeping. Little did other people know, Wade and Logan were huge insomniacs. Perhaps it came with the profession of being a superhero, you didn’t know, but you were determined to help soothe their minds into sleep. The first tactic that came to your mind? Asmr. 

You had the perfect setup. Bunches of pillows to support your heads and backs into a half-sitting position, mountains of blankets to keep you all warm and comfortable, and finally your laptop at full charge ready to go. Now all you needed was your eccentric and grumpy boys. “Wade hurry up!” You groaned as Logan stepped into the room, finally in his sleeping clothes. 

“Hold on baby girl, I’m doing my skincare routine!” Wade yelled from the other side of the apartment. 

“Why? It’s obviously not doing anything for you.” Logan retorted with a smile as you playfully hit his arm. He just grinned wider at your scolding as you heard one more knock on the walls. 

“Keep it down, fuckers! Some people in this place like to sleep!” Blind Al shouted from her room, which was only a few thin walls away. 

“Sorry, Al!” You apologized, sending Logan a look to shut it. He only rolled his eyes as he crawled into bed next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders. As he got himself comfortable, Wade burst through the door with a smile, two shirts in hand. 

“Ok, be honest. Which shirt is more ASMR-y? Pink with rainbows,” He held up a hot pink t-shirt to his chest. “Or, yellow with the X-men logo?” Wade’s arm lifted the other shirt, which was just some old X-men merch he stole from Colossus not too long ago. 

“Asshole it doesn’t matter, let's go.” Logan groaned, blankly looking at the two options. 

“I like the pink Wade.” You said with a smile, watching him put the shirt on and patting the seat next to you. Finally, the three of you get comfortable, Wade on your left and Logan on the right. With the way you three were situated, it almost felt like a puzzle. 

“So, what do you want us to watch exactly?” Logan questions, eyeing the videos you’re scrolling past. 

“It’s videos that make funny noises! They’re supposed to relax you and help you sleep. It even makes some people tingle.” You respond, smiling a bit at the man before resuming your search for the perfect video. 

“What kind of tingles exactly?” Wade smirked at your side. Before he could wait for an answer he hastily pointed at a video on your laptop. “Oh! Let’s do that one! Slime.” Sure enough, that was the video you put on. Within the first two minutes, Wade was completely enthralled, commenting on every little thing. 

“What kind of slime is that?”

“Fluffy, dear.”

“How does it sound so delicious?”

“Beads!”

“Where can I find the things to buy this?”

While Wade was now distracted on Amazon buying the various ingredients for slime, Logan was not so impressed. You could tell the only reason he was currently staying in bed was for the free cuddles. The slime clearly was not of his taste. 

“Logan, do you want to try a different video?” You offered, determined to make the man sleepy through ASMR at any cost. Slime probably wasn’t the best fit for sleep time, not only because of Logan’s disinterest but it only seemed to rile up Wade more as he was currently talking your ear off about all the things he bought for his upcoming slime creations. 

“Eh, no offense bub, but I don’t think any of these videos are gonna do it for me.” You felt bad, you needed to find something that would soothe Logan, and you knew just the genre. 

“How about some general tapping ASMR?” You hastily typed the words into YouTube, much to Wade’s dismay. You found the perfect video, turning up the volume ever so slightly and allowing the ASMR to do its thing. Five minutes into the video you felt sleepy yourself, before realizing that the last few minutes have been in complete silence, which was strange when you lived with Wade Wilson. Turning to both your sides you see Wade completely asleep and Logan fighting for his consciousness. 

“This one good, bub’?” You whisper to Logan, teasing him slightly. 

With your words knocking him out of his trance, all Logan could think to say was, “Shut up.” Before returning to the video, his arm still wrapped around you. Within ten minutes the three of you were out cold, a mess of limbs all sewn together with soft tapping in the background. For the first time in years, Wade and Logan were able to get a good night's sleep and all it required was some cuddles and ASMR. 

[brujaluas]

What will your reputation be like in the future?

pile 1

Now, at the present moment, you may be going through many things, from the present moment to the future where people will see your reputation, it will be like this, from now on you can face many things, it will be a blessed path but at the same time quite sacrificial, you will study a lot, work a lot, spend days and days on this, losing sleep with ideas, with planning, with studies, with work, distancing yourself and not even communicating with people close to you anymore and instead having connections with people far away, networking, and all your effort will bear fruit. Your reputation will be interesting. People will see you as a hard-working person who deserved everything you got. If you receive recognition, whether through college, work, fame, I don't know, some way of showing it, people will see it and think that you deserved it, that you suffered a lot to build your own path and that you deserve it. You will have many connections that people will also recognize as the work you did. You have a very bright energy. People recognize your efforts and think your work is beautiful. Your recognition is brilliant.

pile 2

You will have an intense and peculiar beginning, very eccentric. It's as if there are many people around you and they are people with very bad energy, low vibration. It may also be the case of having a lot of competition in an environment and this makes everything very strange, but you will become a leader and lead everything and all these people. If a group planned to harm you in some way, fly away and turn it around and when they see it, it will be too late because you have taken the reins of the situation and are giving the orders. You may be leaving a toxic environment or a toxic relationship with someone and you are in a hurry about it. It reminds me of a very special song for me, by Florence called Dog Days Are Over. It gave space for your liberation. You led, but this also cost me a lot of wear and tear on your part and you want to get out of it as quickly as possible and you will. Wow, you're going to have an intensely beautiful turning point, it's like you've entered another world, something as bright and sweet, refreshing and calm as a summer breeze in Italy. You will be part of a very interesting process that you really want to be a part of. You can build something, some may have a restaurant, you will recover your roots and energies and rescue a self that you didn't even think existed anymore or a self from past lives. I've talked a lot, but I had to do, apologize. Your reputation will be controversial. Some people will initially find you very clayey, aggressive, stormy, but you will have a change and many people, let me explain, it's as if in one place you were seen that way, and you will literally have a change of place and in this other place people will see you as someone at peace, kind, hard-working, you are the kind of person that people gather at home with on the weekends with children and pets.

pile 3

Your destiny may be to be recognized by your family. You may have a beautiful family, the kind we dream of having, lots of children. Your reputation is that of someone who never seems to be alone, always doing something with someone. If you don't want to have children, I imagine you as Santa Claus, a kind and sweet person who likes to see good people like children happy. You can work with children, and they will feel comfortable with you, just like we like the good old man, Santa Claus. You may feel overwhelmed with so much energy and may at some point be far away. People will miss you, but you will withdraw for a while and be in the company of just one person, it could be your best friend, sibling or spouse. People see you as someone very romantic, affectionate, a very sweet brotherly figure that people like to have the attention of nurturing by your side, confortable, you give a lot of comfort for people.

[fxshigurosbae]

hello! can i pls request for breeding session w olderbf!gojo and youngergf!reader? like gojo is in his 30s and reader is around 19+..

also like the reader is so innocent and gojo's jist a pervy old man who wants to ruin reader's pussy and make her his good little toy

thankyou!!ᕙ( • ‿ • )ᕗ

my requests aren’t open but i’ll make an exception because this is a good request, thank you by the way! hope you enjoy it ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

the perverted boyfriend

୨୧⋆｡˚gojo satoru {32} x f!reader {19}

✶ mature content | mdni ! breeding, age gap, pet names, corruption kink, dacryphilia, cum play, barebacking, creampie, strong language.

taglist | masterlist

it’s taboo, but it’s your reality now.

you have a boyfriend who’s like a decade older. there was no true explanation for how you both even got together, specially because gojo satoru’s personality is quite eccentric, and he always looked like the type not to settle, so you becoming his young girlfriend was probably a weird, but also good thing.

you’ve only had a few intimate moments ever since you started dating a year ago — met at 18, dating a little before 19, now a few months from 20. gojo’s always made love to you, gone slow, used a condom, one round only, cuddles and after care, sweet kisses and no dirty talking (very contradictory), so that behavior was truly something unexpected, but you didn’t know his true colors. . . that’s because he knows how innocent you are. he knew that just by when you didn’t know what an orgasm felt like, and for having a pussy so tight, and soaking wet from only a few kisses and hugging your waist.

gojo’s not like this, he is just prepping you, because he’s a pervert.

he wants to ruin every single inch of chastity there’s still left in you, he always did. for him, he thinks you’re a little virgin. the explanation? because you haven’t sucked his cock yet, nor let him fuck you raw — after that, he’ll take you as his little personal toy, and no longer his pure princess.

little did you know how bad this man will ruin you.

gojo’s always the one who starts with the mood, he’s always the one looking for something, and he always gets it because he knows deep down that you’re a little whore at heart. by the way he holds you in his arms, kisses your cheeks, kisses the corner of your lips and moves on to making out so endearingly and careful is why he always, always, gets what he wants, he’s just being patient.

right now, he’s pursuing you again, but this time he’s got other plans.

why? gojo satoru’s been away for work for half a month now, and it’s made him wonder if you even tried touching yourself.

you innocently greet him at the door of your apartment, jumping onto him as he latches his bag onto the floor and hugs you back, his scent still there so strongly and he thinks the same about yours on your smooth skin. gojo knows you’ve worked extra hard on your appearance tonight, cute flowery thin silk dress, and you never wear this cologne he’s bought you, because you thought it was too sensual . . . and he takes notice of that. once he puts you on the floor, he admires your pretty face beaming at him with chuckles, looking up at him adorably as your height and size differences give you that gap.

“i missed you.” you giggle endlessly, holding onto his hands and swinging side to side, cheeks flushed. that brings him a smug smirk on his face that turns into a full gorgeous grin on his handsome face.

“i know you did, baby, i missed you too.” he replies softly, and his eyes take a peek at the round cleavage of that sundress you’re wearing, and his cock is already hard through his pants. why’d it have to be spring? “i’m gonna take a shower, wait for me?” he asks, tilting his head to the side slightly, luring you into his trap perfectly, with that honeyed voice and a caress on your head, restraining himself from jumping into you. your eyes gleam and nod as he leaves you with a small chuckle and goes on to the bathroom. your hands hold your cheeks to find them warm from blushing when he’s not looking.

you lie down in the bed, on your belly, ass up, sundress cleavage showing your tits, and on your phone until gojo walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with another smaller fabric. he walks towards you like this, something he’s never done before, and he stands in front of your face, making you look up and gulp down hard once you notice him like this.

“a-are you done? uh, wanna eat something?” you ask gently, blushing and seating upright on your knees. he throws the towel from his hair on the chair and reaches for your hand.

“hm, i do actually.” he replies pulling you by the wrist closer carefully, and he’s looking down on you with a soft almost predatory expression.

“i can make something, or order if you’d—

“baby,” he interrupts you, and you hum back slowly and shyly, doe eyes at him. “can i be rougher with you today?” and once he asks that, it takes you a few seconds to think. he notices the exact instant you understand what he meant, because your pupils dilate, your breath hitches and your cheeks flush darker, again.

“u-uh, d-do you, uh, do you mean like . . .” you stutter, becoming a mess just by his words.

“yeah, princess, like that.” gojo chuckles at your response, leaning down and kissing the right corner of your lips. “i’ve been dying to fuck you, you know.” once he says that with a whisper, your pussy clenches unconsciously, and you hum, closing your eyes and grabbing onto his wrist as his thumb’s pressing down against the skin on your inner thigh. “is that a yes?” you breathe out heavily, receiving his kisses on your face and jawline. “i’m not gonna hurt you, you know that.” he adds, his fingertips brushing their way inside your thin fabric dress covering your upper thighs, and this feeling burns.

“okay.” you moan out lowly and vulnerably — because you didn’t know exactly what he was thinking of, what that really meant, and you were curious — and his cock’s harder than ever once he looks at you with eyes still closed just taking in his pecks onto your skin, biting down your lower lip trembling. gojo’s making out with you, and he’s being aggressive.

he’s missed your glossy lips — imagining how your virgin mouth would feel around his cock — he’s missed your small soft innocent hands — imagining how they’d wrap around his dick — he’s missed your soft pussy — imagining how it’d feel to fuck it raw until you pass out.

you were already soaking wet, but with the simple touch of his index finger over your nipple you’re almost cumming. gojo notices your frail breathing against him as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth, other hand messing with your clit, pinching and rubbing under the hood as your thighs squish together.

it all happened so fast and intensely that you’re laid down in princess pillow position with legs spread by his hand as gojo pumps his cock with the other, gathering slick and making a mess in your folds as he rubs the tip against you. you think it’s dirty, and it’s all unknown, but you’re liking it, you just don’t know how much.

“‘toru,” you moan his name lowly, gripping onto the sheets and pillow under your head anxiously. he looks at you with his cheeks red and panting, he’s on the edge, he’s dying to fuck you, he’s dizzy and needy, and that look he gives you could again make you cum. “the condom.” once you say that, one side of his lips curve into a devious smirk, and he’s been waiting for you to ask for that.

“can’t i do it raw tonight, baby?” oh. your body responds to him, and you’re blushing harder and harder and you don’t know what you’re feeling. “you said i could be rough, remember? it’s gonna feel really good, i promise, so good.” he promotes, caressing your thigh as he rubs the pre-cum covered tip against your clit now. “can i make you feel good, my princess?” you let out a breath and look away. “f-fine,” you gather the courage to look back at his eyes. “i-if it’s gonna make you feel good too.” aw, that’s so innocent.

you shouldn’t have said that.

because now, he’s bullying your cunt over and over again, he’s got your knuckles turning white from gripping onto the sheets, a stiff neck from throwing it back against the pillow and sore legs from the weight he’s putting over you as gojo pushes you into a mate press. he’s going so deep, deeper than ever, he’s going so rough, rougher than ever, he’s being so loud, louder than ever, he’s being so dirty, dirtier than ever. the wrap and clenching around his cock is incessant and he’s dying over there, blabbering all sorts of dirty stuff to your chaste ears, and you’re becoming a mush under him, brainwashed. your hand uselessly trying to push his piston hips away as tears begin to stream your face, it’s too much and it’s too good for you.

“o-oh, fuck, fuck, baby,” gojo groans looking at your state. “you like it, don’t you, princess?” he’s been going on and on talking and asking the filthiest things for the past minutes — and you’ve came twice in such a short amount of time, he knows you did, you don’t — and you’re going insane from the tip of his dick kissing your cervix and the sloppy pace he’s set. you’re unable to answer but whine and moan dirtier than you’ve ever done, and you’re still restraining yourself, unable to even look at him from embarrassment. he leans down to keep fucking into you deeper while folding you in half at the same time. gojo frees one of his hands and pulls your chin to stare at him, and the way your eyebrows knit and the tears stream down your pretty cheeks turn him on tremendously. “talk to me, baby.” he whispers, groaning as he slows down and focus on pounding hardly.

“f-feels weird, ‘t-toru.” you moan out shakingly, trying to open your eyes but they threaten to keep closing due to the immense pleasure, and gojo tilts his hips up slightly and one more thrust hits a spot that you yell out, your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your head.

“you’re being so dirty, baby.” he smirks, knowing he’s found your g-spot again, but in a better angle. gojo’s been trying to only please you with your clit the last times you’ve had sex, because he knew you weren’t going to be able to endure him using this one spot against you. “just let it go, ‘kay? it’ll feel so good, i promise.” and you look at him, breathing heavily as he continues to bully that spongy spot, your mouth turning into an open circle as you fail to breathe. gojo picks up the pace suddenly as he grabs both your legs again, he’s close, he’s so fucking close.

“i’m gonna cum in you, okay?” his words don’t even process into your head, as you want to kiss him, pulling gojo by the shoulders and neck, yet he doesn’t give in to you yet. “look at me and answer.” he’s demanding, and you’re aroused by that, your dizzy eyes look up at him. “i’m gonna fuck my cum in you,“ he’s talking so dirty it feels wrong, but your panting is only feeding him. “wanna be pregnant with my cum, baby?” your eyebrows furrow and you moan at the thought, it was an unconscious reaction, yet gojo now knew that you were done for as you squirted against his cock, failing to mute your moans as you bit your lip, and it was an intense orgasm. “i do.” you whine in the middle, and gojo has to throw his head back and chuckle at you, he’s got hearts in his eyes.

that alone makes him groan and cum inside you with another pound, and at this point, with how much you’re clenching him, you’re milking gojo dry quite literally. gojo thrusts without pulling out, he wants it all the way inside your cervix. “shouldn’t have said that, baby.” he whispers as his eyes latch down onto where you both connect.

you shouldn’t, you really really shouldn’t.

“ngh… fuc—fuck, you like my cum, don’t you, pretty girl?”, “knew you wanted me to cum in you, princess.”, “you’re such a dirty cumslut.”, “i’m gonna cum again, this time you’ll get pregnant, for sure, i swear.” you shouldn’t have said that because now gojo’s in the third round, and your pussy’s burning, destroyed and stretched out, filled with cum and it’s like your belly’s expanding at how much he’s came inside you, going in for another and more.

gojo knew he was a pervert, and he knew he was going to make a mess out of you, make you his little pretty innocent toy.

“holy fuck, princess, it’s all into your womb now, i’m sure!”

[dredgesnails]

stardew valley au where joel and skizz are new residents to pelican town (hermit town?). joel just inherited a large farm from his late grandfather and skizz is moving in with his old friend after reconnecting with him and wanting a fresh start. and the townspeople are like, kinda weird.

bdubs is fine enough - he’s a sweet man with a fun personality and he’s the local builder, but it’s almost frightening how fast he constructs new buildings when joel needs them. pearl, their resident postmaster, is also pretty normal other than the fact that skizz never seems to be awake early enough to catch her delivering mail. scar is lovely but he’s never available when joel wants another chicken. the mayor, xisuma, is pleasant too, if a little eccentric at times, but he doesn’t really seem to do much in town.

for the most part, skizz is settling in well. he’s moved in with impulse, who runs the local blacksmith in town, and he gets along well with most of the local townspeople. he’s started spending his evenings at the local saloon listening to ren regale the patrons with fantastical tales while he and stress serve up food and drinks, and he finds himself growing close with cleo, the local sculptor. he even gets a new wardrobe from hypno free of charge, and sometimes helps cub out with his totally scientific studies and creations.

skizz also joins forces with beef (who helps to supply the local general store that xb and keralis run) in terrorising the local manager of the corporate chain grocery store that no one likes. doc is a terrible manager but would make a fun supervillain (according to joe hills, the bookseller who appears once in a blue moon but seems to know doc more than anyone in town).

joel, on the other hand, seems to only be interacting with the strangest residents in town. he discovers the adventurer’s guild after only a couple weeks, and is only somewhat irritated by iskall’s refusal to pronounce his name correctly. false promises to give him prizes if he can kill enough monsters, which is not something joel had expected to be doing when he pictured farm life, but here he is. he stumbles upon a travelling cart one day, and the man inside insists he’s a knight from a faraway land, that he risked his life to make it all the way here to sell his wares. it’s all stuff joel can get cheaper elsewhere.

he’s pretty sure the local doctor has no real medical training, but then he passes out while fighting monsters and he wakes up completely fine, so zedaph probably knows what he’s doing. maybe. when joel isn’t passing out he sometimes makes trips to the library-slash-museum, which is probably almost completely empty because mumbo, who begs joel for anything to display, looks like he’s never fought a duggie in his life. eventually mumbo gives joel a key to the sewers, which are way cooler than they have any right to be, and that’s where he finds jevin’s secret sewer shop. jevin lives in town. he just also has a shop hidden underground. joel has stopped asking questions by now.

and then there are the three who live by the beach. etho spends most of his time tinkering around the fishing hut or hovering around bdubs, but sometimes he drives the bus to the desert. only sometimes. there might be something under his mask. no one knows for sure. gem runs the fish shop most days and she claims she’s a sailor, but joel has never seen a single working boat around despite all the ocean. she can also hold her breath underwater for an uncannily long amount of time, like, scarily so, and will sometimes disappear for a few days and return with an abundance of treasures. joel has never seen her leave by boat. grian fishes a lot and runs the shop when gem can’t, and he sometimes talks as though the sea can speak to him. skizz has caught him staring into space for extended periods of time. one time he waded into the water and just stood there, head down, muttering to himself.

apparently there used to be a lighthouse but “it’s gone now”. gem says if they ask bdubs nicely enough maybe they can build another one, but she and grian are banned from build requests after the last incident with their pet snails (joel has never seen the snails, but scar complains about them enough to convince him they’re real).

there also might be some kind of wizard who lives in the creepy tower in the woods. skizz has heard he’s the one who helps maintain the power in the valley, and joel’s convinced he hallucinated seeing him once until he recieves a letter from the wizard himself, and visits him only to find that the strange fire-creature he saw that one time was, in fact, tango, who is human for the most part, he just sets himself on fire sometimes.

[that-one-malereader-enthusiast]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 • 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐈 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐞

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐲

cw : MDNI - S2 Armand, journalist male reader, top male reader, switch Armand, sub Daniel, dirty thoughts, mentions of sexual interactions, nsfw, Louis is definitely third wheeling, sexual tension, fake rashid reveal, mind fucking, teasing, this is my old man yaoi, somnophila, Armand gets the old man pass, they eye fucked eachother so much, i needed a taste of these two sorry, when no one can do the work, you gotta do it yourself, power play, stalking, Armand is a creepy little cat, Daniels the confused German shepherd, my drabbles become so thought out why, consume at your own risk, not proof read.

You knew it.

You fucking knew it the whole damn time.

At first it was just a guess, just a joking remark made as you worked with Molloy with Louis interview. You didn't believe him when he spoke of vampires, but seeing truly is believing, and Rashid was the oddest guy you'd met. That sweet smile, those longing looks towards Louis, the way he almost seemed to be acting—

Oh but you found that out really fucking fast.

Spoiler alert, you can see the plot twist from a mile away.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"Jesus Christ, it was about damn time! How obvious do you have to be before someone finally outed you as a vampire?"

Daniel turned to you in a somewhat shocked fashion, though he was mostly squinting towards you for some sort of half assed explanation you were going to give him, but Louis put his expression into words. "You...You knew?"

"Yeah, but to be honest, he wasn't exactly doing the best job at hiding it. I mean, even if he was trying to, it was a little too on the nose at the beginning. Also, not saying Rashid is a bad name, but you definitely don't look like a Rashid." You then happened to gesture to Armand who was now standing side by side with Louis. You knew you'd promised Molloy that you would tone it down, that you would stay tamer than normal for the sake of getting out of Dubai in one piece after everything was said and done, but now there were two vampires rather than the one. "Not to mention how obvious you are."

"Pray tell, how obvious was I?" Armand asked. So far he'd spectated and predicted you were just as childish as Daniel when he was younger. With eccentric thoughts and an active imagination. That you were simply in over your head.

Oh how wrong he was.

"Well, for starters...it never seemed like you were similar to the other servants? I don't think I dare even saw you wear a mask before, whether that be to simply hide faces or to prevent anything from spreading, I found that odd." You chimed. "Not only that but we've seen Louis drink from you, and yet someone as...lanky, someone who looked like a stick ready to break — no offense — but you walked away like it was nothing, while a Russian biscuit the size of a bulk barely stood for two seconds before falling out.."

Only then did you gesture to the other room compared to the one you were currently in. "Not to mention, when we caught you praying the other day, you prayed in the darkest side of the room. Even if you did walk past the light, it was briefly or almost unseeable. And God, from the way every time I turned to you and watched you practically eye-fucking Molloy, I wouldn't have been shocked to know that you'd met him before."

Armand's expression was unreadable, almost repressing his feelings. Especially after the last observation you'd made. He stood next to Louis who squinted in a questionable fashion while looking at you, and Daniel? He didn't expect you to suddenly come out like that, and so boldly, though that was simply your personality.

"Now, if you three don't mind, I think I'll go to bed early. After this whole fucking soap opera of a reveal, I have to probably prepare myself to take in whenever you came into Louis life and what the hell happened then." You dismissed yourself, not back towards Daniel as you made your way out. That stare Armand had given you that entire time was unnerving, but there was something behind it.

You then called out as you proceeded to make your way to your room. "And I hope that there's an actual Rashid! Or I will be very disappointed!"

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

God when was the last time you and Daniel had a good fuck.

Before the trip to Dubai, the two of you had different lives, and as much as you loved smothering the older man, you had a job as well. It was unfortunate that you two couldn't have your fun till after the trip was over, but at least Daniel noticed how irritable you'd started to get. After all, you'd been stressed before the trip and didn't expect things to take this long.

You groaned out as your hips slowly rocked into the others, his warm body against your own and lips kissing feverishly against his skin. You knew that he was trying his best to sleep, but you couldn't help yourself.

Not as if he minded, he's the one who agreed the two of you could atleast sleep like this.

"Fuck Danny, baby..." You rutted your hips up accidentally, causing him to groan out and nudge you as red took over his face, cheeks, even spreading to his ears.

"Calm down, I have to sleep for later so we can continue the interview.." He could feel your arms practically caging him, holding against the plushness against part of his stomach. Daniel could barely think with how tired he was, and you? You were full of energy at the moment, sleepy, but still energized.

"But you're so tight Daniel...so fucking...oh—" You slowly grinded yourself against him once again before finally giving in as he wrapped a hand back to run though your hair. "Needed this, bad. Felt like I was having withdrawals."

"From sex?"

"From you," you admitted. "And this tight ass..."

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The next afternoon, you and Daniel went to the small cafe to fill up before the interview, though he'd been chewing you out about your past behavior. How he knew you were always a stickler for believing in superstition, but to understand that these vampires were nothing to fuck around with.

You could have refuted that with the amount of evidence you had that those fanged people were hornier than a dog humping a pillow.

You joked about it, as if it was your second nature, but Molloy seemed more stressed out than normal.

"You're gonna get yourself killed in there, you know what they are, why are you pushing things so far?" He sounded annoyed at that point, watching as you rolled your eyes and tried to dismiss his emotions towards the situation.

"Jesus Molloy, you act like the world is gonna end."

"Maybe not, but you have no idea who these guys are. You don't understand how dangerous they can be. How dangerous they are." He urged on.

You laughed and continued eating the raw fish that was on your plate. "Sure," you drew out.

It was then that he stared at you. Molloy stared at you with that look, the look you knew all too well. He continued staring you down before you sighed and gave in. "Fine! Damn it, I'll be good! I'll tone it down! I'll...I'll play this little game they're trying to get at. But I'm only doing it because you asked."

"Look, I just want us to get out of this in one piece." He urged on, now poking at his food, appetite diminished from the idea alone. "I dragged you into this mess, if you want to leave, you can."

"Damn it Daniel, you know you didn't drag me into this, I wanted to come. Turns out the vampire bullshit was real after all, but you're dumb as a box of rocks if you think I'm just gonna leave you here. I'm going nowhere." You let out a chuff of a chuckle before nudging Molloy, giving him a reassuring smirk. "And I know that Daniel Molloy sure as shit won't let anyone outsmart him like this."

"Alright cocky brat, I hear you. Just be careful. Armand looked like he's two seconds away from ripping your head off last time."

"Oh, Armand would have already if he had the balls to do so. If anything, I think the real threat in the room is you know who..." Finishing the rest of your dish after popping the last piece in your mouth, you now gave Daniel the knowing look.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"Fuck, Armand—no wonder Louis loves to fuck you in his free time." You panted, watching as the vampire squirmed below you. You held his waist with a bruising strength that would normally feel uncomfortable for any human. But you knew that the vampire was durable. Heating his moan and mewl as your hips slapped against his ass, back arching up into you like a needy cat in heat. You didn't let up either, slamming into his body with brute force behind every thrust.

It was only then that you heard the mix of Armand and Daniels voice, gray haired individual cursing out as he gripped tightly onto the pillow behind his head. His glasses were gone and his face was flushed red as your thrust urged Armand to thrust into him. The vampire turned his head, as if trying to steal a kiss from you, pouting even. But you ignored him, leaning over to press your lips again Daniel's as his eyes fluttered closed, lashes dotted with tears and a muffled cry leaving him as Armand rammed his hips, almost in a jealous fashion.

Your fingers then found themselves threaded in the vampire's hair, only to yank his head back while a cry escaped his drool soaked lips. "You listen to me and you listen to me good. You think..you're all hot shit for a vampire, but I really know what you really are — Armand," you hissed out against the shell of his ear, dipping your head down before biting directly against the side of his neck. Your canines dug down into his tender flesh — not enough force to pierce — but enough to bite down onto the muscle below, knowing the skin would blemish and bloom due to your brutish actions.

The feeling alone made him cry out, hips stuttering between both you and Daniel. It was only then that you heard Molloy let out a gutteral noise in retaliation.

"You're my bitch in heat, understand?"

As Louis continued his interview, retelling whatever he could recall while letting Daniel read Claudia's entries, you kept your mouth shut and kept your comments to a minimum — as promised. But your thoughts, they ran rampant as you keep eye contact with Armand, watching as his eyes pierced into your own soul while peering into your mind. You could see a shift in his face features, his shoulders tending up as your expression stayed unchanging like a statue.

"Sorry to cut you off, I'm gonna step to the bathroom if that's alright. Lunch doesn't feel like it's sitting well," you addressed those in the room as you moved your notebook out of your lap and onto the table. "You good being alone in here for a sec Danny boy?"

"I'll be fine — and don't call me that, Jesus..." He muttered, shaking his head and overall dismissing you as he saw the shit eating grin on your face.

"Just askin' is all. Last time I left, I came back to you slapping Louis. Still never got an explanation for that one..."

"I assure you, nothing will happen to Daniel while you're away," Louis assured, giving you a genuine look to try and persuade you.

"Whatever you say," you stated, not giving the other stoic vampire the time of day after. Not a glance back or a thought for him to breach. Instead you left and got into the bathroom before starting the sink and splashing water on your face.

Even as you tried your best to hide it or ignore it, you could feel you growing erection making into a tent against your jeans, especially at your own thoughts. You almost dazed out back there and didn't even notice, but you knew that you'd finally hit the mark with Armand. With the way he was staring you down, you wouldn't have been surprised if he confronted you about such things.

It wasn't until you looked up in the mirror that you saw those predatory eyes stalking you again. By the time you whipped around, you were almost slammed into the sink, grinning as Armand grabbed against your throat. There was no real strength behind it, just a placement.

"Pervert, snooping through my thoughts even though I'm pretty sure Louis said that doing such a thing was off limits."

"He did not say such a thing," he quickly addressed, sneering at the grin that stayed in your face. "Who are you to have such thoughts about myself."

"You didn't say much about it. But to mention you seemed like you were enjoying it yourself pretty boy..." Your hand felt against his own groin, your grin only widening at the erection he seemed to pull as well. Watching as he stiffened up again made your arousal flare and his eyes seemed to soften. It almost looked as if he was trying to stop a noise from coming out with how fast his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I know one thing, Armand. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want something from me." Peeling his hand from your throat, you grabbed his face and pulled his closer. He did nothing to retaliate, almost melting at the semi rough gesture. "If you wanna be of any help while we still have time...I think you could put that mouth to good use."

To have Armand on his hands and knees? It was as if Christmas came early. But God, he looked absolutely divine as he slid down between your legs. You could only hope that Louis wouldn't mind sharing his immortal partner, Armand.

The vampire Armand?

More like Armand, your personal cockslut.

You could only wonder how fast he could be before one of the others came to look for the both of you.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

[unknownmads]

i’m so obsessed with the idea of Frat guy/popular Gojo and Weird girl Y/n.

Y/n who’s a little rough around the edges but actually really kind.

Y/n who has dyed hair and eccentric style,

Y/n who doesn’t take bullshit

Y/n whose music is a bit out there or odd.

And Frat Boy gojo who is absolutely Smitten by her. falling in love with her style and attitude alike.

Frat Boy gojo who saw her getting harassed at one of his Fraternity’s parties and was about to step in when she was already was a step ahead of him. The guy bothering her having tried to grab her ass under her skirt y/n quickly turning around slapping him so hard it Gojo winced at the sight. Then she cussed the man out about manners before storming off. He never got her name but he knew how badly he wanted her since that night.

Frat Boy Gojo who spent the rest of the night trying to find Y/n only to find out she left not long after the incident. Sighing as he spends the rest of the night trying to find out her name.

Frat Boy Gojo who now sees her everywhere, always managing to spot her around campus on her way to class she’s all he can see. Who spends half his time stalking her socials shamelessly following her impatiently waiting for her follow back.

Frat Boy Gojo who asks everyone he can about Y/n needing to know all he can about her.

Frat Boy Gojo whose heart starts to race when he gets the notification that she followed him back. Liking a few of his posts along the way.

Frat Boy Gojo who feels as if the universe is on his side when he spots Y/n in the campus cafe on her computer mindlessly sipping her drink. The big Window she’s seated in giving him a full view of her outfit that day. Quickly making his way to the Cafe and ordering a drink of his and walking to your table and speaking sweetly with his signature charming smile.

“Hey is this seat taken?”

Frat Boy Gojo who swears he’s going to faint when you finally look up at him a sweet smile on your face as you speak to him in a quiet voice. Who almost bursts out laughing as he remembers the night he first saw you mentally laughing at the switch.

“oh no it’s not. go ahead”

Frat Boy Gojo who spends the rest of his time in the cafe chatting with you trying to make you smile and laugh.

Frat Boy Gojo who mentally signs away his old life as he hears you laugh at his cheesy flirting and puns. His heart racing out of his chest the entire time he speaks to you. You’re sarcastic come backs matching his puns. He’s already married and has two kids with you in his mind at this point.

Weird Girl Y/n who is a little shocked when Satoru gojo follows her but deciding to just brush it off and follow him back. Looking through his posts mindlessly liking a few.

Weird Girl Y/n who’s even more shocked to see that same man at the cafe she was studying in now asking for a seat at her table.

Weird Girl Y/n who can’t help but laugh at his silly attempts of flirting and cheesy puns. She know his reputation but it’s not as if she’s doesn’t also have one of her own.

✮❀✮

this was just racking in my brain i love when those popular guys date weird emo chicks and i just feel gojo would be absolutely SMITTEN by a Y/n who dressed very eccentric and stood out by her style. After like so many sorority girls i think y/n would seem like a breath of fresh air to him.

i also fully believe this same situation would happen with Atsumu Miya, or Yuji.

[khuzena]

Not just a stone

Aventurine x f! reader

Summary: love, isn't that such a wonderful dream? Despite this, make sure to not get stuck in it. To be stuck in a dream is to abandon reality, yet this dream is all he has.

 Cw. Angst, smut, creampie ig, no comfort bc that's boring

A/n: wrote this under an hour and it's not proofread so 🤷

“All or nothing.”

For most of his life, he's always been just Aventurine. A polished gem, capable of handling anything you dish out to him. Whether it be a heavy workload or cruel treatment from others; his luck seems to never run out.

So when you came around, it was different. 

The way you gently took his hand in yours, your feather like kisses that tainted his forehead— he wanted to run. 

“I love you”, a soft moan escaped your lips as you arched your back from the harsh bending he put you through. 

He wants to see you break, to make you stop this madness; the madness being you treating him like an actual person, not the stoneheart or eccentric gambler. 

But he can't. 

For the first time in his life, he starts thrusting slowly, gently, making sure you're handled with care, as if you're porcelain. 

He leans down to bite on your neck, a part of him wanting to claim you. He's never owned anything that was truly his, that never left him. So when you stare at him with a gaze full of lust— is when he realised he could have something for himself. 

‘pap’, ‘pap’, ‘pap’, sweat trickled down his forehead as his digits snaked to your spent clit, the stimulation sending you over to the edge, is it so selfish to have you, is it so selfish to want you as his own? 

Aventurine does a pretty good job of pushing people away, no one ever had good intentions with his heart. 

For a man who never shuts up, the words are stuck in his throat— are they tears? No, no, he spent enough tears on the day of his capture of his old Master. So why? 

“I'm close—fuck…”, you sigh between gritted teeth, Aventurine lifted your legs onto his shoulders to hit that spongy spot deeper. It's too much. 

Only your wanton moans were heard in his usually empty apartment room. He'd take you out usually in fancy hotels, drowning you in riches till you forget how to breathe, making sure you're taken care of. He's silent. 

Your hole melted around his shaft, it felt utterly lewd on how he shaped your walls to the size of his cock, he can't bear to lose anyone anymore. 

As selfish, as shameless as it seems, he grinds his hips faster into yours, the palm of his hand squeezing your tit harshly as he wants— no he needs to destroy you. 

“Oh— fuck!”, a wave of pleasure washes over you, enough to drown out your senses and any other thoughts in your mind.

Despite this, he continues to move. 

His eyes blown out as he desperately chases his high, fuck. Was it really selfish to just taint every part of you as his so no one would ever dare take you away? 

Tears well up his eyes, not because you feel good, but because of how damn good you are at breaking him with that stupidly lovesick stare of yours.

 He needs to paint your walls white, to litter your skin with enough marks— inflict enough pain on you to make sure he's truly yours.  

The bed shook with his harsh thrusting, was he really making love to you or was he just trying to destroy you enough to be sure he can call you his? He doesn't know, he thinks it's the latter. 

With one more thrust, he never wants to leave this dream. Your eyes rolling to the back of your hand, those gentle hands who cup his cheeks to comfort him now harshly gripping on the sheets, the way you clench down on his cock like a vice— he feels wanted. 

Even if it's just your body that wants him, it's enough.

But you always give more than what you should. 

He smirks when he sees you writhing under him desperately, he's painted your walls white he's happy that he's destroyed you for any other man you'll ever meet again.

No matter how fucked out you are, you still had it in you to pull him towards you, to land a sweet kiss that he swears was just a dream. 

Why can't you just stop looking at him that way? 

“I love you,” again, a whisper so quiet yet it's all he could hear. He bites his lip in anxiety, “Stop saying that.”

“Why?”, why exactly? 

“Just stop,” none of you moved. It felt good being inside you, just plugging your used cunt to keep his cum in there. 

“I don't care, I love you”

He wants to scream, shout, and be angry with you. An aventurine stone is durable enough to withstand being worn in jewellery; it is relatively hard, so it should not break or crack easily. 

But when you're under him, every second, it's like he's about to crack, so close to breaking.

He's being so out of character, he thinks. 

He chewed his lip, the sight of you making him feel nauseous. You're as gentle as the sun, so why stick to him, why burn him until there's no more of him left? 

Do you take pleasure in this madness? Will you leave him just like everyone else? He thinks you're a mind reader, because how else would you know what he's thinking?

“I'm not going anywhere”, you give his arm a reassuring squeeze but it's not enough, “Stop, stop lying to me—”, “I'm not.”

Droplets of tears taint your skin, it burns more than any other hickey or scar he could ever give you, “Why would I lie to you?”

Time and time again, no matter how many times he tries to break you, to own you, it's always you who wins. He might ruin you for any other man, but you'll crush him like selenite under a hydraulic press. 

He can break your body, he can hurt and use you but he'll always be on the losing end because it would mean losing you. 

Again, you find a way to break him with a few words, “I love you.”

It's not a promise, it's your truth.

Like the pathetic man he is, he cries. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I don't want to hurt you”, but you are. You are giving him something to own, not just your body, your love and soul. And for everything he can own, it's something he can lose. 

“Don't do this,” he starts moving again, maybe it'll be enough to drown out his tears with pleasure. 

Fuck— he flipped you over, then brutally jutting his hips into yours. He doesn't want to see your face, it's the last thing he needs to see. “A-aven…”

It feels good enough, good enough to forget the nonsense you kept spouting out earlier. 

“Shut up, just shut up.” He's far from gentle, he needs to break you, he'll succeed this time. 

He fucks into you with vigor, eyes trained on the bouncing of your ass, the pad of his palm slapping it brutally, leaving a fading red on the supple skin. 

“Why do you do this to me?” his voice raspy as his throat burned from tears, from your kindness, “Do you really want to see me break?”

You stay silent, letting him destroy your body, letting him slap each and every crevice, every nook and cranny of your body; because he needs it. 

You try to ignore the tears that dripped on your back, his aggressive grab on your waist. He cries. 

His voice going hoarse, his egocentric behaviour no more, “Answer me!” 

You lowered your head as he destroyed your cunt from the back, why can't he just stop this? Both of you are breaking. 

The more he tries to break you, he kills himself. 

“Please,” his ministrations slowing for a moment to let you think, you cannot ignore his pleas. 

Out of common courtesy in a conversation to reply, “It's not my fault you are.”

Ah.

“I hate you—,” “Aventurine, stop.” 

Your walls clamp down on his length, he goes faster, pulling your hair. At this point, he's trying to kill you, not just break you.

“Shut up, please…” he begs again. 

‘pap’, ‘pap’, ‘pap’, you oblige and don't say a word. One more, one more. You can't see his face but his breaths got heavier, you know he's crying too. 

Like a frenzied man, he goes faster until you can no longer take. He wants you to leave him so he doesn't have to lose you the way he's lost every other thing he's loved. 

Cum spurted on the bedsheets, a trademark for your stupid little affair. 

He pulls out, no longer wanting to be close to you, “Don't go,” are you out of your mind? No matter how many times he tries to push you away, you keep pulling him towards you.

“I can't promise that.” he gives in. 

“You don't have to, just stay.”

“I have to go.”

“Please.”

Just this once, it's okay to indulge in you. 

He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, desperate for validation. You stare back into his, with empty ones. Without a second thought, you hugged him, he knows you're all just a fleeting dream. 

He shudders against your touch when you leave familiar kisses on his neck, dangerously close to the barcode of ownership of IPC on him. He can't bring himself to tell you to stop. 

For all his life, he was Aventurine first, never Kakavasha. Tonight, he is not an Aventurine. Not the stoneheart, not the IPC's ornament. He is yours.

Enough time passed that you fell asleep, he draped the comforter on your used body. He can't bring himself to give you a final goodbye kiss. 

He closes the door quietly, knowing there won't be a next time. 

A voice rings in his ears, “Did you enjoy your dream? If so, leave a 5 star review!”

He sighs to himself, exiting the dreamscape.

Note: it's kinda meh since it was just a spur of the moment kinda fic and i forgot how to write good smut since its been a while 💀. I hope its okay.

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[gh0stsp1d3r]

I have another one for you!!!

Can I please request a Wonka x fem!reader where Y/n is around 3-4 years old, and much like Noodle, she was found in the laundry chute as a baby and has been stuck at the laundry mat ever since. You know how Willy became kind of like a big brother figure to Noodle? When he gets trapped in the laundry mat, he becomes a father figure to Y/n, taking care of her like she’s his own daughter🥺 (He’d be such a sweet and fun Dad omg). Him getting her all excited and cheering her up when she’s upset with his eccentric behavior and making her chocolate 🥺 Her having a nightmare and running to Willy’s room and jumping into Willy’s arms and yelling out, “DADDY”, and his heart absolutely melting and it gives him even more motivation to get his chocolate shop up and running and get them all out of there, so he can give Y/n, Noodle, and all their friends a better life 🥺🥺🥺

oooo I love this!! dad! Willy has my heart! can’t tell if I want to be his daughter or his wife LMFAOO, daddy issues I guess 🤷🏽‍♀️ anyways, im still trying to come up with a schedule but i will post when i finish that

𝒟𝒾𝒹 𝓈𝒽ℯ 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂ℯ 𝒹𝒶𝒹？

Of course it was strange when he was thrown into the laundry chute and found a bunch of others enslaved to the woman upstairs, but what he found most strange was the little girl down with all the adults as well.

When he met noodle, he saw it as an opportunity to ask.

“Hey, so uh, noodle, what’s with the little girl?” He asked, his voice now with concern in it.

“Y/n? She’s usually with me. She was found here as a baby 2 years ago, and she still has to do work.”

“That’s terrible. She’s only..”

“4. I know. She has the highest debt here.” The girl said, and the two conversed about random things while he created some chocolate.

Then, the next day he got to know more about you from the others. He watched you as you struggled to carry something, and he grabbed it from you, helping you.

He smiled at you, and you looked at the man curiously.

He set it away and came back to you, he crouched down and got down on your level.

“I’m Willy Wonka. You are?” He held his hand out for you to shake, which your tiny fingers grabbed.

You said your name, and he smiled at you. He sat down now.

“Do you like chocolate, by any chance?”

You tilted your head slightly. You’ve never had it, living your whole life down here.

He understood quickly, “You’ve never had it?”

You shook your head and he hummed. “Well, let me tell you, it is one of the best things anyone can have. Here.” He just happened to have some readily available, he handed you a small heart shaped one and you took it nervously.

He watched you carefully as you ate it, chewing on it slowly and then slowly smiling. He smiled with you and watched as you lit up, your whole demeanor changing.

"Do you like it?" He asked once you finished, you smiled.

"I love it," you said back, the corners of his mouth formed a smile. HIs heart warmed.

"There's more where that came from." he winked and stood back up.

From then, you called him the chocolate man.

And the next time he saw you was with Noodle, you stood by her as you both visited his room. They all thought of ideas to escape this place to make money.

"What about her?" Noodle asked suddenly, referring to you. They had come up with a plan, but now they had to find out what to do with you. You sat there, on his bed eating some chocolate happily.

"Easy, we'll take her with," he shrugged.

"Are you sure? Shes never been outside,," she said, after being your “sister” for so long she was protective against you.

"Even more reason to. Would you like to come with us?" The chocolate man looked to you.

They looked to you and you smiled, nodding eagerly.

☆☆☆☆☆

In the days after that, you both got along and closer. You, Noodle and Willy were your own little group. And when he redid his business, better and without the problems of the chocolate cartel, it was the best thing in his life.

There was even one time when you came running up to him, hugging his legs and mumbling that you missed him, accidentally calling him dad while doing so.

He looked at Noodle who seemed just as shocked, mouthing the word "Did she just call me dad?" while pointing to you with a wide smile on his face.

And, once Noodle has found her mom, you were once again left alone. You cried but understood. You hugged her tightly; she said she'd come to visit as much as she could.

You then looked back to Willy. He looked down at you, an idea popping into his head. So, he adopted you. You legally became his daughter.

[thegnomelord]

I was talking with some friends and kinda came up with an original story idea where you're the new groundskeeper for a wealthy Victorian gentleman who is definitely not some kind of eldritch abomination.

Here's some touch and go snippets of what I thought of, lemme know if y'all want to see me turn this into an actual story.

CW: NSFW at the end, gay, homoerotic pining, Victorian gothic, mentions of murder.

Now I'm thinking ab a dark gothic Victorian gent who is *definitely* not some kind of eldritch abomination who marries wives who mysteriously disappear or die soon after and you're the new garden keeper who moves to work there because your old man is ill and the Victorian gent lets you live there and through no fault of your own you catch his interest and the way you smile as you handle the newly born lambs makes his, definitely not dead, heart beat.

----

You'd snuck in a 'friend' from the local brothel after your friends badgered your ears off about being a 'real man'. The night had gone poorly, she was a pretty woman, yes, but you just couldn't bring yourself to have sex no matter how hard you tried. You had to beg her not to tell anyone about your problem before paying her and sending her on her way yet. . . you can't find her anywhere.

It's as if she'd dissapeared in thin air (or was dragged by the carpets down into the maw in the basement) — Don't question the thing in the basement, you don't have to worry about that and it's probably just rats. Besides the door for the basement is never where you last remember it to be.

You could have sworn it was down the hall past the master's study but when you go to look all there is is just another grandiose painting, this time portraying the whore of Babylon riding on the many headed beast. And the master of the house appears before you can recognise the face of the whore, asking if you can fix the old light in his study that keeps flickering

---

You notice the master starts asking for you or going out of the house more often, usually to go horse back riding through the wide hunting woods you maintain behind the house. You're never sure why most of the animals shy away from the master like a devil from a cross, but there is one dove white steed that is the master's favorite. It's the only one who doesn't shy away, the one that you're not sure was in that empty paddock last night but you'd rather not lose your job by telling him you'd probably lost his horse and it came back.

The horse is sweet to you but you've seen it try to bite the other farm hands that get too close. Maybe it's just a temperament thing, animals feel more than you do after all, but. . . Hmm, where's that new farmhand that had slapped your ass gone to? And was the horse's muzzle always dyed red like that? Eh, someone must have just fed it some strawberries.

____

You get bullied by the chamber maid into helping her with cleaning the numerous bedrooms because the other two have come down with the seasonal flu and you were *sure* the nth bedroom you go to clean is empty, you'd checked it twice, but somehow when you pass through the very same door you enter the master's private bedroom and he's there in only his sleep clothes smiling at you and you can only stutter out weak apologies with your face a flame while your eyes stare at the other man in a way that would get the old town's priest rolling in his grave.

Oh yes, your ma and pa were extremely religious, dressing you up in your Sunday's best, taking you to church every Sunday regardless if it's rain or shine. You remember seeing the new master of the house when your parents were allowed to attend the previous master's seventh wedding. The master's family has long since supported the church and the local community, gaining favour from everyone despite the, erm, eccentric decorations and continuous wife deaths.

But death in child birth or from disease can happen to anyone, and what is a peasant like you supposed to understand the gentry?

Besides, the current master knows best what the wealthy people invited to his party expect from a man servant that you were commandered to be this evening. And if the young lord decides to tug off your cross necklace in favour of tying his own tie around your throat, slowly tightening it until the knot sits firmly at your Adam's apple and his ungloved fingers brush against your skin, and his smiling face is inches away looking at you like a man should not look at another man while purring how dashing you look tonight, who are you to argue?

----

The dairymaid had asked you to go get some honey from the beehives they keep. The door slowly budges open as you're forced to use more strength than you should, as if the house refuses to let you out this early in the morning, you were certain you'd oiled the hinges but it's an old house, it's bound to happen.

You go to the hives and for some reason the bees are not as violent as you remember your pa telling you about them being. They just buzz around you lazily as you carefully remove the frames with the honey.

You're nearly given a heart attack when you turn and the lord is there, behind you, staring at you with eyes you swear glint like the surface of an oil spill after a rainstorm but that must just be the light.

"Let me try some?" He asks, closing in, as if you have any ability or want to refuse.

He reaches out to grip your hand. Your fingers are still sticky with honey and for a second your blaspheming mind thinks he'll lick the honey off your fingers (god smite you down for that thought, you don't even know how many 'hail Mary's you'll need to recount for that).

He dips his fingers in the honey, rivulets of the golden liquid trickling down his knuckles as he slowly brings them up to his face and sticks them in his mouth. You know enough of the gentry and their weird customs to know this would be seen as unsightly, but you're neither gentry nor do you find yourself caring when he keeps his gaze locked on you even as his lips part, pink tongue swirling around his fingers to lick up all the honey in a way that makes you think it's purposeful. (It can't be, he's the lord for crying out loud, you can already hear your ma reaching for the lord's word to bash those sinful dirty blasphemous thoughts from your skull)

He pulls his fingers from his mouth with a loud sound that goes straight from your ears to your chest and down to where it shouldn't. Your hands itch to grab the cross around your neck and hold it but you only now remember the lord still has it, his tie still loosely wrapped around your neck. His eyes sparkle like stars "You should try some." He says, and he's tugging you by the arm before you can even start spouting your excuses about how it's not your place for such things.

----

Getting down on your knees in prayer, only for him to appear and gently grasp your chin - murmuring lowly how worship can be done later, that he needs you to do one more task before you pray and head to bed

That 'one more task' turns out to be a simple fix that for some reason takes longer than it should. The house does not want another's name to be spoken by your tongue and isn't above petty childish ploys of constantly flickering the one light in the lord's private chambers regardless of how many lightbulbs you change. The lord doesn't mind despite your growing emberassment, he likes the sight of your muscles tensed to stay balanced on that rickety ladder and how, despite your annoyance, you still treat the house - him- with care.

And it's late at night when you finish, so late everyone is asleep and there's no point in waking everyone up by trying to maneuver through the dark house with a candle.

"Stay the night." He says, order clear even without his hands tugging on your shirt. It's improper to sleep in the lord's bed in your work clothes after all, and you swear you see his eyes harden when he noticed that cross you'd managed to find, but it's soon discarded when he pulls the shirt over your head, cross dropping to the floor to be quietly swallowed by the carpets.

----

The only prayer he allows to be uttered in his house is the one you mutter when you fist your cock, squirreled away in your tiny room in the house. The only time he allows you to pray to your god is when his name is right next to Jesus and God the father, asking them for forgiveness for your sinful thoughts while you rut your cock into the sheets and moan his name as quietly as you think you're able to get away with.

He's learned not to 'stumble' on you in such a state, humans and their privacy, you were stone cold like a nun for a month when he'd did that once, and he'd missed the sweet prayers you sing him late at night when you think he's not listening.

[impish-baby]

Ummh... Vampire caregiver story?... Like how they took you...? (Please)

-👀✨

Mothers come, she is the night (vampire caregiver x reader)

(trigger warnings: creepy behavior, mentions of stalking, kidnapping, mind control)

You've been working the night shift at this stupid convenience store for months now, and you've known Valerian just as long.

There wasn't really anything off about them at first, maybe a little eccentric with how they insist on wearing clothes straight out of a fantasy novel even in your dingy shop but it's not like it's your business to judge anyone's fashion choices. No, it started small. You always find them staring, drilling holes into the back of your head. You can feel their eyes on you constantly, even as you're clocked out and walking to the bus stop. It's unnerving, really. And it doesn't help that there's this weird smile they always have. They look at you like you've hung the stars in the sky, but you barely know them

Valerian's behavior would slowly but surely ramp up. They'd try to keep a conversation going with you as long as possible with that chipper smile that never seems to leave their face. ("What's your favorite color? Oh, mines mauve! Say, how many blankets do you like to sleep with?") They'd stack item after item up on the register when you'd comment that there would be other customers throughout the night. There's no way they're eating the ungodly amount of candy they've purchased. Valerian has told you that they aren't a fan of sweets, so it's impossible to know where it's actually going.

One night, they bought a little bat plushie and practically shoved it into your arms, refusing to take it back no matter how much of a fuss you made about it. "It's yours, darling. Come now, you aren't too old for a plush friend... I think you look rather cute with one!" You did end up sleeping with it, much to your chagrin. The next night that you see Valerian, you're sure there's a knowing smirk on their face while they prattle on about nothing in particular.

It all comes to a head a couple of weeks later. You had missed a few days of work from being sick, and you're still ill by the time you're back to your post. Valerian greets you with the same smile they always have, but it looks... strained almost. You can't help the boiling irritation that rises up when they start to scold you, like they're your parent! Seriously, you have bills to pay, you can come to work just fine.. (doesn't matter that you're all shaky and clammy, you can manage)

Except... Valerian doesn't seem to agree. They're glaring, face settled into a scowl instead of the smile they constantly have. It's scary almost, seeing the usually giddy man look so serious and unhappy with you. But then it's gone in an instant, face lighting back up as they tut and wag a finger at you. "Oh well, it's about time you come home anyways, dearest.."

There isn't much time to react before they're leaning past the counter, cupping your face in a surprisingly firm grip and making you look them in the eyes. It's... strangely pretty. If you weren't tired before, you're definitely sleepy now as you gaze into Valerian's pools of red for what feels like ages. When you're eventually released, you feel.. dopey. Slumping into Valerian's side immediately once they've rounded the counter to you.

Their words are far off, but you're pretty sure they're cooing at you as they start to drag you by the hand out of the store. You don't know when they grabbed your things from the break room, but your bag is slung over their shoulder. Huh... that was nice of them. Valerian leads you to a car, far fancier than anything you'd usually see in a crappy parking lot. Once you're safely inside, they're buckling your seatbelt for you, pressing a kiss to your forehead and tucking the bat stuffie into your arms. "Rest, alright, my love? Papa will take great care of you. Just dream for a while.."

(a/n: this is my first time trying to write a proper fic, so hopefully, I did alright! Valerian is so goofy.. they promise to be the best father a little one could want!)

[s1llyalabaster]

When mediocrity meets the supremacy - veritas ratio

Where the Doctor narrows his eyes at the trailblazer for stealing his partner's attention.. ~700 words, SFW (not necessarily connected, but read part 1!

AU where reader followed the trailblaze before quitting to pursue further studies in various fields of science with Dr. Ratio himself in the Intelligensia Guild. (Might not be entirely lore accurate, trailblazer doesnt go to Belobog)

Your mind brings you back to the soft swishes of water during your bath with you beloved. it had been almost 5 system hours since the last few drops of bathwater went down the drain, small petals being the only thing that signified your intimate rendezvous with the Doctor himself.

You shake your head, forcing yourself to pull away from the sweet, dream-esque scene. You find yourself struggling to focus on the task at hand, the smug face of Vertitas Ratio plastering itself all over the wals of your mind like the "WANTED" posters all over belobog's brick walls you saw during the journey to Jarilo VI with your old friends.

Speaking of the trailblazers, you had planned a small gathering with the Astral Express members in the evening, since they were visiting. You had yearned to see the faces of Marth 7th, Dan Heng, Himeko, Welt, even Pom Pom. You've heard from March that there had been a new member of the Astral Express, going by Caelus. Judging from March's bombarding texts of photos and videos, he seemed to have a quite....eccentric personality, but bore a kind expression nonetheless.

You'd adequately dressed yourself up after returning to you and Dr. Ratio's humble home, opting to switch to a fancier outfit. It was a speical occasion, after all. You loosely linked your arm around Veritas' very reluctant arm, walknig towards the round table where the members were sat.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" Himeko addressed your name, and drifted her eyes to the grey-haired trailblazer to the opposite of you. Dr. Ratio narrowed his eyes, you slightly nudged him to get rid of that old habit, hard enough to get a small grunt out of him.

"Say, Trailblazer. How has the Astral Express been treating you?" You asked, watching as the gears slowly spun into action in his head, almost as if someone was controlling him through a game screen.(teehee)

"Well..I've been through lots of unforgettable journeys with the Astral Express, and they've shown me much care in a...familial way."

You nod your head, satisfied at the answer before you. You reminisce about your days spent on the Express. Whether it be happy or hurtful, significant but sad. A clink of the wine glass drew everyone at the old-fashioned western-styled restaurant's attention.

"Come on! Won't a handsome man just come up and sing along to this song with me?!"

The woman dragged Caelus' arm towards the center stage, handing him a hat. He gracefully donned it on his head as you watched in admiration. Since Caelus was younger than you, you had an almost...motherly love to him. But Veritas didn't seem to take it that way.

You clapped along to the rhythm of a song sang by the singing duo - composed of a random woman, and the newest member of the Astral Express. The soda bottles hopped in joy as the trailblazer returns to his seat. Ah, a livehouse, I see.

Throught the scene, Ratio's eyes trailed alongside your movements; every captivating smile, every clap sent to the trailblazer, every whoop or cheer sent to him, every---

Graphs and charts were buzzing about in his mind. His analytical brain was working at full speed. "What made him to be so charming when it was me that needed to be appealing?!" No amount of data or statistics could account for how much love he had for you in his heart, yet he couldn''t show it, and you were about to be taken away by--

"Veritas? Are you alright?" He had awoken to your soft touches on his face. He'd abruptly sat up on the bed that he once laid on. Pause. An epiphany occured in his mind, "You...the party...!" He tried to compose himself, yet his drunk-dazed (teehee) mind wouldn't cooperate. "The party went greatly, dear! Half the time, you were zoned out, just staring at some random poster about Robin and Sunday!"

Veritas' eyes widened. "I didn't say anything....preposterous, did I?"

"Well...only something about wanting me to be your super private secretary, and only yours-" "Ridiculous! Utterly absurd!"

Putting on his alabaster head, facing away from you. Looks like the Doctor won't be able to admit to his jealousy...

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part one

word count: 9.2k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.

"Do you ever get tired?" 

Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.

"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.

Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.

"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"

Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.

"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.

"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.

They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.

He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.

Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.

Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that. 

What's cooler than an old lady? 

"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."

It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her. 

Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist. 

Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.

"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.

Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."

She surely doesn't recognize him.

And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"

"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?" 

"Yes, for the last four years."

"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"

"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."

"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.

"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.

"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.

"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."

As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night. 

Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.

The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"

And the rest was history.

Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.

She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.

Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer. 

He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her. 

"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.

"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."

"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."

She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.

"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"

"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth." 

From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.

"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"

"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound. 

"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.

"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"

She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "

For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.

"You sure do have a way with words."

"I try." 

Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"

"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."

"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"

"No, not really." 

"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"

"Yes."

That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely. 

"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."

And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."

"Okay."

"We can start now?"

"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.

"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"

She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate. 

"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."

"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"

She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.

"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"

"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."

"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.

"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"

Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.

"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.

Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.

"What have you lost?"

"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.

He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.

"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems. 

"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."

"Have you heard from him since?"

"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It must’ve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it must’ve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."

Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.

"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."

"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces. 

"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.

"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."

"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."

Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.

"Shit." 

She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest. 

She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings. 

When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.

She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas. 

"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."

"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door. 

"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently. 

Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.

Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind. 

Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.

Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.

And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.

Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.

Clementine was actually so fucking cool.

People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her. 

Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.

Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.

He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume. 

Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name. 

He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.

She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.

She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.

He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.

Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly. 

He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show. 

Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.

Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.

"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect. 

"Probably here."

As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.

Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.

"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.”

-

The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.

She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her. 

When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.

Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities. 

There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.

She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.

"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame. 

"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."

She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.

"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.

"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.

His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.

"So it's a movie about eating people?"

Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry. 

"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."

"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"

Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.

Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives. 

He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit. 

He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause. 

He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.

Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.

Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him. 

Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.

As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars. 

"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"

-

When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France. 

She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.

When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal. 

If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows. 

Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.

Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together. 

Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex. 

She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.

Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world. 

Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each other’s presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.

Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.

In fact, she was fine with it. 

She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.

It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself. 

She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt. 

She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered. 

So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.

She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her. 

She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.

He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.

When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.

"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him. 

"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."

"You have been celebrating?"

"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"

Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."

His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"

"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.

Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.

He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.

"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.

"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.

"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"

"I touched down today after qualifying."

"No." Clem disapproves, "I could’ve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired." 

Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted. 

"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.

Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.

"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."

She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."

"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."

Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."

"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."

"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."

He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.

"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."

Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."

Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister. 

He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."

Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth. 

He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly. 

Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony. 

Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.

"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.

It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.

He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands. 

"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."

"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."

"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.

"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."

He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.

"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"

Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."

Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly. 

"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.

"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."

"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."

"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring." 

"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.

Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."

Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing. 

"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"

"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."

"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."

"Thank you." Lewis grins.

"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"

"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."

"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take." 

"Shower?"

"With you?" She wonders.

"If you're okay with that."

 "I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."

Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower. 

clementine

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clementine the best week, the most perfect week.  

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lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.

tchalamet And she's done it again people.

badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️

pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.

user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.

-

As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.

Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.

"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"

Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."

Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve." 

When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."

He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night. 

She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.

"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"

"About a week." 

Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.

"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"

Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"

Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."

Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away. 

"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch." 

He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase. 

"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"

Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head. 

Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.

Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.

Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.

It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head. 

He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?

She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance. 

"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in. 

SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city. 

"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"

SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."

"You're the best, SK." she smiles.

"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."

-

Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry. 

He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.

"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."

Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet. 

He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.

When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.

He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.

thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.

- 🍊

He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.

Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.

Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.

He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.

-

[merakiui]

Now envision Mafia Jade with that sleeked back hair (drools)

Ever since that Jade card dropped, this is the type of time I've been on:

AAAA MAFIA JADE WITH THAT HAIRSTYLE....... ojiisan mafia eel,,,,, old man Jade and you're the pretty thing he keeps around because you owe a debt to him. If you can't pay it off with money, you can pay with your body. He's in charge of your wardrobe and everything you wear is always designer (or it's nothing at all). Making you sit in his lap and cockwarm him when the both of you are eating meals, and he just loves to feed you and fawn over how well you take it (his dick). But he's happy you enjoy the food as well. <3

And when his twin brother visits,,,, perhaps Jade wouldn't mind sharing you, but you're in for quite the awakening when you realize Floyd isn't much better than Jade. >_< he's eccentric and intimidating, but perhaps he's not so scary as Jade once you befriend him. Floyd likes scaring you, but it gets old if you're showing him the same reaction. He much prefers making love to you and seeing how sweet your expression becomes. <3

Jade is like a cat batting around the half-living corpse of a mouse. T_T he's so mean,,, always toying with you. Fucking you with the barrel of his gun and watching you squirm and beg him not to accidentally (or intentionally) pull the trigger (you don't even realize it's not loaded)..... orz he's terrible!!! But only he's allowed to lovingly bully you like this. Anyone else who tries is killed and thrown in the sea.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Oh myyy Scully’s nothing like how I thought he would be, man’s such a charmer 😳 It’s been so fun seeing people draw and write about how their OCs would react to his forwardness so I wanted to ask how you think your own OC would react to him? :>

[Referencing this post!]

I KNOW, RIGHT 💀 He speaks in such a formal way, it’s surprising??? Like he uses -san even for the first year students and other really old fancy verbage… And he’s very friendly (?) right off the bat??? (In my culture, such a thing is unheard of…) Kissing strangers, calling them “my dear”, daydreaming about hand holding??????? IS HE OKAY 😭 cbjdbwosuxosm At the same time, I’m very pleased with how whimsical Skully is, I think he captures the romantic (idealized reality kind of romantic, not love romantic) spirit of Jack Skellington very well.

I think if Miss Raven were to meet Skully (assuming the same manner that Yuu met him), she would at first think she’s dreaming since he speaks and acts similar to those gallant, dashing kind of guys she sometimes pens. What would really set her panicking is the kiss to the back of the hand. That sensation feels very real and is something she fantasizes about thinks of as really embarrassing. Once Miss Raven gets over the initial shock and adjusts to Skully’s eccentric personality, I think they’d actually get along really well! He’s such a dork for Halloween and she’s super into hearing new stories. I’m sure Miss Raven could sit and listen to Skully mouth off about Jack Skellington for hours 😌 Then they can fangirl together—

And then dhjsbsksjso L*ona gets annoyed with her for so easily being taken in by a newcomer… “How gullible can you be, Canary? Is a smiling face and a few sweet words all it takes to get you to wag your tail?” J word stands in the back watching this all go down (hey, free entertainment for him) while egging L*ona on... “Now, now, Leona-san, it’s not our place to interfere with the beginnings of new friendships. Perhaps she simply finds Skully-san’s company more pleasant than ours.

To remark on the other SSRs because I feel like it, Sebek angrily tells them to stop dawdling over nothing of real importance, how dare they waste WAKA-SAMA’s precious time when they should be investigating how to get home! (He actively tries to be a physical barrier between Miss Raven and Skully, who are both giggling about Jack or something.) Jamil has his hands to his temples, knowing that this will be another massive headache to navigate around (but still tries to mediate anyway). His suffering is truly never-ending…