#that I actually feel a little overwhelmed by it
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cuntdevil · 2 days ago
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★ TINY LITTLE FIRES.
for two firemen whose jobs are to help civilians, they've managed to spark flames inside you that you wish not to extinguish.
( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, toji fushiguro & sukuna ryomen, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs : do not interact & 2519 words !
╰┈➤ firefighter!toji fushiguro & sukuna ryomen & afab!reader (she/her), throatfucking, fingering, dirty talk mostly on sukuna's behalf, double penetration, anal & vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie.
( author's note. ) i thought of this specific prn link when writing this and thought it was tojikuna fucking reader. just a liddol visual while you read 😋
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It was overwhelming, the heat of two men looming over you— how they were both so hauntingly handsome as their eyes explored your body. They caged you in with their bodies, tiny little fires sparking inside of the pit of your stomach as they held interest on you all night. Shoko wanted to hold a small celebration dinner after completing her residency, finally becoming an actual doctor. She held it at a small bar and grill, where the food was greasy and the drinks were strong. You hadn’t thought your night wouldn’t be one so special, just have a few drinks and enjoy the time with your friends. However, from afar, two men had their eyes on you the majority of the night. Crimson and hazel following your form in a way that had you constantly looking behind you, eyes never failing to meet theirs. 
You weren’t the only one to take notice of their domineering stares, Shoko watching over your shoulder before saying, “You should go talk to them.”
Eyes widening as your head quickly turns to her. Immediately, you shook your head. “I’m here to celebrate you.”
“You’re here to have fun,” she corrects. “Plus, you need it— them. When was the last time you had a spontaneous hook-up, much less a threesome?”
She was right. You rarely spend your leisure time actually doing any leisure, always finding something to keep you busy or something that came around the corner last minute that you completely forgot about. Your social life went down the drain outside of her, Geto and Gojo. But even the time you spend with them is too short. However, you don’t want to be a bad friend.
“But,” you pout. “Who’s going to drop you home if you get too wasted?”
“That’s for me to worry about,” Shoko says. “I’ll probably have one of the waitresses do it if it comes to that.”
“I don’t feel—” 
“I don’t care how you feel,” Shoko frowns, nudging you from your chair. “Go to them right now, or I’ll disown you as a friend.”
You’re not sure if you’re thankful for Shoko, or if you want to curse her. You feel like a mouse trapped inside of a lion’s den. Outside of the conversation with Shoko, you can’t recall how you even ended up in this situation, just knowing that you walked up to the bar, signaling for a bartender in their close vicinity. You let them watch you, slowly creeping closer towards them. 
Other than their impressive physique that had other men gawking at them in jealousy, they were different. One had dark hair that went over his forehead, black strands that nearly prickled his hazel green eyes. He had a scar on the left corner of his lip that had you curious how it ended up there in the first place. The other man has messy pink hair and piercing red eyes as he scrutinizes you, tattoos travel down his neck that you’re not sure where they travel to because of the hoodie he has on. 
You only remember through short conversation that they were firefighters, but other than that, they were very straightforward with what they wanted from you. And from the many men that have tried approaching you before, you could respect it. You respected it so much that you let them bring you to their shared apartment, their hands roaming your body the moment you were inside. 
Your dress hiked up over your waist as the pink-headed man— Sukuna— has found comfort in your breasts, massaging and kneading the fat as the brunette in front of you plays with the hem of your panties, finding fun in teasing you as your head falls to the chest of the tattooed man behind you. Wedged between them, there’s no room for escape as they pull out soft moans from you. Your braids tickle Sukuna’s skin as he watches you fall apart so easily. “We’ve got you this worked up and we’ve barely done a thing to you. It’s kinda pathetic… and cute.”
Just as he says this, Toji’s fingers dip inside of your panties, running to run two fingers down your clit and in between your folds. It has your chest rising and falling in the anticipation of it all, so needy and desperate to be filled by these two large men. “You should feel how wet she is. It’s like she hasn’t been fucked in forever.”
It’s an epiphany upon both men, a deep hum reverberating off of Sukuna’s chest as one hand leaves from under your dress. Black painted fingernails that reach to grab your face harshly and forcing you to turn, your eyes meeting his daunting red ones. “You poor thing,” he breathes. “Your pussy needs to be well taken care of then, huh?”
“Yeah.” You can’t help but nod. “Yeah, it does.”
“It’s a good thing you got us, huh?” To which you nod again, whispering out a “yes.”
They lead you to the confined space of one of their bedrooms. You still have your back to Sukuna, sitting on his lap as he pulls the dress over your head. Breasts spilling out and leaving you nearly bare in front of them, the only thing left on you are your flimsy pair of panties with a hearty stain right in the center from your arousal. You can feel the hard erection of Sukuna right against your ass. Oh, how he feels so big and thick underneath you that it has your pussy clenching in a desire for something— someone— to be inside of you. 
Sukuna’s hand snakes in between your legs, the gloss of the black shining underneath the dim lighting as he shifts your panties to the side. Your folds glisten and shine, resembling the gloss of a porcelain doll. He spreads your lust over your clit as Toji begins to undo his pants, a sliver of his dark happy trail peaking out as his shirt rises. He’s in a haste, dragging down his pants and underwear, revealing his lengthy cock. Dark and heavy shaft that weighs him down surely as it hits his inner thigh instead of standing up prominently. He surely rivals the few partners you’ve had down the road. It’s intimidating, but your cunt is a curious thing, not caring if it’s the same thing that killed the cat. From its nine lives, you’re sure you can be brought back to life over and over.
Tiny little fires ignited in the pit of your stomach, you’re sure that these men are the only ones able to extinguish them. Toji holds the hose, his length in hand as the tip drips in his precum, sauntering over to you with it in hand. Your head moves involuntarily, moving yourself to the edge of Sukuna’s lap. 
“Look at her,” Sukuna moves a stray braid, pulling it back behind your air. “So eager…”
Toji adores it, reaching to cup your face as you lean closer to him. His cock so dangerously close to your begging mouth that's lolled open and ready. His tip kisses your bottom lip, smearing his pre against it and making your lips shine in the coat of lust-born gloss. Sukuna’s fingers still dance around your clit, teasing at your entrance as he plays with your folds. You moan and mewl, keeping eye contact with Toji while you squirm in the other man’s lap in need. 
“Please…” It comes out in a soft breath, whiny as your voice jumps up a few pitches. With two fingers against your chin, Toji makes you meet his eyes. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll give ya what you need,” he says before making the head of his cock enter your mouth. It takes your breath away, making you literally speechless as you’re only left to moan and mewl. Your muffled voice goes ignored as a dragged out groan leaves the brunette's lips as he curses. “Yeah, that’s so much better.”
Shallow thrusts in your mouth, it’s a filthy sight to envision as you’re held tightly by Sukuna. Finally does he end his torture against your pussy, the two fingers that swirled around your fat clit now pushing inside of your needy hole. Subconsciously do you clench, making it hard for him to enter before he’s slapping at the sensitive nub, making a squeal spark from your lips as the vibrations run straight through Toji’s cock. 
“Fuck,” he curses, pushing more of his length inside of your poor little mouth, forcing you to open wider to further accommodate him. Sukuna bites at the shell of your ear simultaneously, stretching out your cunt with two of his thick fingers. Your whines of pain are muffled by the cock in your mouth, your legs tensing around the hand in between them as your cheeks hollow around Toji. A deep inhale you take before you momentarily stop breathing altogether, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag.
The choked out cough is only music to their ears as Sukuna bucks his hips upwards in you, fucking your hole with his fingers and Toji stilling inside of you as you struggle to breathe. Tears prickle the corner of your eyes, face pushed into his happy trail. Tangled in this web that you willingly trapped yourself in, it’s starting to frighten you as you feel yourself drowning in the water of their hoses. You cry from the overwhelming sensation, how it feels so good to be used like this, the wet sounds of your pussy being fucked and abused by Sukuna’s fingers and the mess that Toji makes of your face, your makeup being smeared as tears run down and your lip gloss dissipating with each and every thrust of his cock inside you. 
It’s painful how Toji’s hand pulls at your hair, holding it as leverage as he drills his length inside of your mouth. Your mouth being used as a fleshlight for him to obliterate, he’s a selfish man as he can only think of his release. And it’s the sheer amusement of you that spurs on Sukuna, how your pussy salivates around his fingers as they stretch out your tight hole. Your honeyed slick painting the two digits as you clench around him. You continue to rock your hips against him, having him hold restraint as it goes straight to his cock. His free hand wrapped around the expanse of your waist as he batters your cunt until you’re feeling that call deep within. Your eyes squinting shut as you mewl out pathetically before the two men as Sukuna alerts Toji, “She’s gonna cum.”
“Well, she better hold it,” he says, speaking to you as if you weren’t there. As if you’re not the girl with his cock in your mouth. However, you obey, trying to keep it together as Sukuna’s unrelenting, his drilling inside of your pussy only getting worse in an effort to make you fall apart all too soon. Your legs spasm as you can’t hold it any longer, capturing Sukuna’s hand as you cream around his fingers. Fortunately, he doesn’t pry your legs open, only chuckling deviously to himself when your lower body finally relaxes. 
Toji chases his high inside of your mouth, leaving you to gag and choke around his length as he fucks it until he feels himself twitching. “Make sure to swallow all of me. Don’t waste a single drop,” he says before grunting. He spills himself inside of you, forcing you to swallow as he cums deep. You squint your eyes shut as he pushes his hips deeper before finally retracting and his cock falling to his thigh. Your throat’s dry, the absence leaving you gasping for air as you whine out, head hitting Sukuna’s chest. 
You’re made a pretty mess on his lap, your orgasm staining his pants as his fingers finally exit your cunt. He brings the coated digits to his lips, sucking them clean as a deep hum vibrates off his chest. “This starved pussy tastes so good. I think we might want to keep you after this.”
Sukuna pulls you both further on the bed, shedding his pants along the journey as you feel his length in between the crevice of your ass. Toji has your legs pressed against your chest, both holes out and vulnerable for their taking. You can feel Sukuna’s fingers inside your asshole, stretching you with the same two digits that were previously in your pussy while Toji’s got his cock aligned at your entrance. Your heart pangs heavily against your chest, trying to make a get away, but you swallow the anticipation away as you peet at Toji above you. However, it’s Sukuna that you feel first, his girthy length piercing through you as if it was creating a new hole inside of you as you cry out in pain.
“Breathe,” Toji has to remind you, feeling how tense you’ve become as Sukuna has stretched out your poor asshole. With all the prep he’s done, nothing could have prepared you for the real thing. Finally does your body relax when you feel Toji’s length glide against your folds before his tip kisses at your entrance. Both sheathing themselves completely in you, this moment feels like the most gentle they’ve ever been in you, waiting for you to calm down before you’ve given them the okay. 
You’re the sweetest and most salacious thing they’ve ever devoured, cocks plunging inside of your holes greedily as they both thrust inside of you. The heat of their bodies leave you so dizzy as you can’t focus on a thing around you, and certainly not on a word either of them have said. 
“Taking our cocks so greedily,” Toji pants into your ear. “You’re a selfish little thing.”
“But the best one we’ve had yet,” Sukuna rebuttals, thinking of the countless times someone’s had to back down in the past. They thought you were close to it, how in your eyes there were moments of second guessing and terror written all over you. But you pretty little thing, you’ve braved it through, stuffed to the brink by two enormous men. 
Tiny little fires inside of you that they only make bloom even further, creating a wildfire in their paths as they beat and batter both of your holes. They stretch your out deliciously, having you ignore the ache that you feel course through your body as you gnaw on your bottom lip. No amount of water would extinguish the desire that’s now embedded deep within you, their seed spilling inside of you as you cream uncontrollably. 
Bed sheets stained as the pungent smell of sex infiltrates the air as the room grows hot and stuffy, caught within the flames of shared lust. When they’re done with you, cum drips from your cunt and gaping ass as you fall on your face. When you finally head back home, you find both of their numbers saved inside of your phone and a message from Toji:
Sukuna’s right. I wouldn’t mind keeping you. 
And you wouldn’t mind being kept.
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( author's note. ) here's my hand at trying to write more plotless porn. :p
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3igbootyl0ver · 1 day ago
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A New Face Pt.2
pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
summary: Tara was devastated you didn't text her. That was until you met her at a party.
word count: 2250
Pt.1
a/n: hey guys, first of all thank you all so much for the overwhelming support 🥹 I didn't expect this much attention at all especially for my first ever pic I've written. Anyways, I'm always open to feedback and requests if you have any. Take note I'm still getting used to this whole Tumblr thing so it may take a while for me to put up master lists and all that stuff (p.s sorry if there's any mistakes, a part of me feels like this lowkey sucks lolz)
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It’s been 2 weeks since Tara had last seen you. And during those weeks, Tara’s mind had been fogged by you. Her mind kept repeating your interaction and every time a smile grew on her face. The group of friends had been making fun of her ever since they entered the lift after leaving yours and Chad’s apartment, saying she looked like a kid getting a lollipop for breakfast, all giggly and in a daze, but she didn’t care. 
She wanted to see you again badly. She started plotting and thinking about ways your paths can collide again. Like, she could plan walking in school and “coincidentally” cross paths even though her classroom was nowhere near yours and at least 10 minutes away from your building. But she wouldn’t do that! “I’m not that crazy” Tara thought. But would she? (A teeny tiny part of Tara knows she’s capable of doing so.)
She didn’t have the guts to text you and it’s already been two weeks! A part of her was hoping that you’d text her, but a pang of disappointment hit her when you didn’t. She usually isn’t this hung up on a person like this. Sure, she found some individuals cute from time to time, but she wouldn’t go up to this extend. She wouldn’t chase for someone, but for you, maybe, just a little bit, she would start jogging a little. There was something so.. alluring and appealing about you that Tara couldn’t comprehend. It’s like her mind glitched and was programmed to think about you 24/7.
 Tara was currently lying on her bed occupied by her mind (thinking of you obviously) when there was aggressive knocks on the front door.  “Give me a minute! Jesus..” murmured Tara as she walked towards the threshold. She opened the door which revealed Mindy looking impatient. 
“Dude, are you not dressed yet? We planned to go this party at least a week ago!” 
“Oh shit, I forgot about this Mindy I’m sorry! Give me 15 minutes to get ready” Tara replied apologetically while Mindy rolled her eyes and plopped herself down on the couch, kicking up her feet onto the coffee table and reached for the tv remote. After an excruciatingly long 15 minutes (it was actually 45 minutes), Tara and Mindy were set to leave and make their way to the party that was a few blocks away.
The house reeked of alcohol, weed, and cigarettes. The party-goers were dressed casually, with some wearing revealing and tight clothes to attract attention, no doubt trying to get laid. There was r&b and occasionally hip hop music blaring through the speakers. Mindy met up with Anika, dragging her to get a drink to get the night started which made Tara lose track of them, leaving her all alone. Tara’s stomach churned when she kept seeing couples making out in the hallway as she strolled to the kitchen to get a drink. (She kept this like a dirty secret, but she had imagined as if it was you and her making out)
“Hey Tara!” She turned around and saw Chad, with a random girl with his arm around her waist. 
“Chad? I didn’t know you were coming to this party” Tara explained, ignoring the dirty looks and stink eye given from the girl
“Yeah, I didn’t want to actually, but Y/N asked me out to this party and….” Whatever gibberish Chad spewed out was ignored as you occupied Tara’s mind. You were here? Y/N? Chad’s sexy and hot and super cute roommate? She’s doomed. 
“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?! Oh god! Oh my god, Do I look good? Do I have anything between my teeth, I knew I should have put on a sexier outfit”
“Tara- Tara calm down. You look good, okay? Don’t worry about it. If it makes you feel any better, they called you cute after you guys left the other day.” Chad commented, putting a stop onto Tara’s word vomit. You called her cute? Tara felt butterflies in her stomach. But why didn’t you text her? All Tara could hope for is that the universe is on her side tonight and let her catch a glimpse of you, and preferably not drunk to make a fool of herself and to earn atleast a decent conversation. 
She chugged down the alcoholic drink she made and decided to make one in an instant, trying to get rid of her blush since just thinking of you made her stomach do somersaults. She sat down on the couch, hoping she could see you soon. After almost half an hour, her patience was wearing thin, she hadn’t seen you yet. How even big is this house? Why couldn’t she see you? It was as if this house was alive and kept shifting its walls purposely to block her view of you. She made her way to the kitchen to make a stronger drink. Mindy was probably making out with Anika in a random room anyways so she doesn’t really bother, which left Tara looking like a real loser all alone weeping in the kitchen. 
She chugged down another shot of her drink, before making a new one. As she lifted her head to swallow her drink in one go, she felt a presence behind her. She smelt a scent of a wood, earthy with a reminiscent of smoke notes, along with a subtle smell of sweat. 
“Hey stranger. What’re you doing here all alone?” Tara choked on her drink when she heard your voice. Damn it, even your voice is hot. How does that even work? Tara had a coughing fit, while trying to cover up her blush and not make a fool out of herself (she already did). You made it even worse by wincing slightly and putting your hand on her lower back, rubbing it up and down her back and trying to at least comfort her while she was having a crisis.
“You alright there? Let me get some water for you,” You softly chuckled before proceeding to the refrigerator and grab a bottle of water, opening the cap and passing it to Tara which gobbled it down. It took her a few moments to settle down and for her blush to subside.
“Thank you, really. I appreciate it.”
“No problem, I can’t debate with you about horror movies if you’re dead, right?”
“Ha ha. Very funny. Anyway, I didn’t know you were coming to this party. I assumed you were too cool and busy for this type of stuff.” Tara  teased. She took this time to take in the sight of you, you were wearing baggy jeans with a fitting t-shirt, revealing your tattoos. There goes the butterflies in her tummy again.
“I didn’t call in a shift today and I had nothing to do. Plus, it was an impromptu thing to come here since, well, I had a feeling you were going to be here and..I wanted to see you.” You softly chuckled, with your voice lowering at the end. Now it was your turn to start blushing, and Tara found it adorable.
“Well, I’m right here in front of you, cutie. What did you want to talk about?” Tara boldly added in the nickname, in hopes of seeing you blush again. You smiled at the term which revealed those dimples AND your blush. Tara gave her a pat on the back for the double victory. You opened your mouth to give a sly reply back, however your response was cut off by someone calling out for you.
“Y/N!! You in to play some beer pong?” You looked at Tara apologetically for the disruption and invited her to play along with you as a pair.
You both were up against another pair, which was obviously experienced beer pong players at that. You were willing to drink the cups that your opponent successfully had thrown the ball in, but Tara insisted on drinking it while you focus on throwing the ball. Understandably, both of you lost and while you thanked them for the round and lost gracefully, Tara stomped off like a little kid while mumbling swear words to herself, evidently affected by the amount of alcohol she had to drink. You chased for her and found her in the kitchen, mixing different liquids to create an abomination of a drink.
“Tara, you had enough for tonight don’t you think? Let me walk you home.” You suggested while taking her cup away as she was right about to sip it, making her whine. Tara turned around and looked at you as if you had said the most ridiculous sentence she had heard in her lifetime.
“NO!!! Please, let’s just stay a lit-little longer. I p-promise I’ll behave. I just want to spend time with you.” Tara begged and slurring her words, while learning against you for your warmth, and looking up at you with those undeniably adorable doe eyes, giving you the best puppy look she could express.
“We can talk on our way to your apartment, okay? I promise I won’t leave you alone” Tara huffed and rolled her eyes, but continued leaning against you for support. You only made it to the threshold of the exit holding her beside you until you couldn’t handle it anymore with how Tara kept moving around and losing her balance. You offered to give her a piggyback ride, which she immediately accepted after nodding her head enthusiastically.
“Why didn’t- didn’t you text me? I was waiting..waiting for you all along, man, fuck” Tara slurred, having hiccups in between her sentences.
“I’m sorry Tara, would you feel better if I said I was too nervous to text you?” You replied smugly, which made her wrap her arms around your neck a little tighter. You could feel a sudden warmth on the side of your neck, indicating that Tara was blushing. “Cute” You thought.
“Whatever..Whatever, dude. I just wanted to ask what horror movie you preferred,” Tara tried to shrug off and tried to act nonchalant as if your silence for the past 2 weeks didn’t bother her.
“I loved watching Terrifier 2. Art the clown really is a masterpiece,” You softly commented. You’ve reached the entrance of Tara’s apartment and entered the lift, softly asking what level she lives at before the lift door closes. You’re surprised you that didn’t feel tired of carrying her at all. Even after walking atleast 2 miles from the party. Most of the time carrying her home was in silence, since Tara was falling in and out of sleep.
“Me too!! I-lloved watching him kill random people” You walked her towards  her door, slowly getting her on her feet and stabilizing her when she was swaying around clumsily.
“Oh yeah? Well, I heard the new Terrifier 3 is coming out. Maybe we could watch it together during the premier? Like, a date?” You suggested, blush slowly creeping up from your neck to your cheeks. You knocked on the door, hoping Sam was awake to bring her in.
“Yes.” Tara simply replied while nodding insistently. You chuckled at her boldness.
“It’s a date then. We’ll talk about it when you’re sober and having a massive hangover tomorrow, okay?” Tara nodded her head, her arms snaking around your neck to pull you closer. Your hands landed at her waist, feeling her being overly warm, probably from drinking too much. You decided to lean in and give her a kiss on her cheek, holding it for a little longer just to tease the shorter girl.
When you pulled back, you could see her blushing, probably not expecting the kiss. However, she decided to lean in this time, and now aiming for your lips. Just as both your lips brushed each other, the door opened, revealing Sam looking upset with wide eyes. You both pull back, with you coughing awkwardly under Sam’s gaze. Tara entered her apartment after saying her goodbyes, leaving you and Sam. You tried to talk to her, but ended up backfiring after she rolled her eyes and slammed the door on you even before you could utter a syllable. You made your way home and tried to ignore the interaction with Sam by occupying your mind with the younger Carpenter. You know talking to Tara won’t be easy due to her overprotective sister and friends, but you’re always up for a challenge, especially for a girl you’re falling in love with.
On the other side of the door, Sam was relentlessly scolding Tara, since she didn’t inform her of the party she was going to attend and that she had been worried sick the whole day. The least she expected was Mindy or Chad sending her home. Not you. Tara ignored Sam and went in her room, and plopped down on her bed with a huff, and fell asleep not even 5 minutes in.
The next day, Tara woke up with the most excruciating throbbing headache, it got worse when Sam continued her nagging about her going to parties without informing her. It took her awhile to adjust herself, with eating breakfast and taking a hot shower. She realized her phone had died since yesterday and decided  to charge it. When it turned on, the first notification she saw was from you.
Y/N: Heyy, hope you’re feeling better.
Sent at 11.33am.
Y/N: And I’m also hoping you didn’t forget the date we planned. Looking forward to seeing you soon :)
Sent at 11.36am.
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p0orbaby · 2 days ago
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It’s Called Free Fall
summary: therapy makes you realise a lot of things
warnings: none
a/n: there’s not actually any alexia in this, but she is mentioned
word count: 2.7k
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The therapist’s office feels like it’s been curated for someone far more refined than you—someone who actually takes their therapy seriously, rather than as an ironic lifestyle choice. The walls are a pale, flat grey that veers perilously close to lifeless, and there’s this overwhelming sense of emptiness, like everything here exists for display rather than use. The chairs, two narrow-backed leather things angled just slightly towards each other, appear less like furniture and more like sculptures. You imagine some recent graduate from a New York art school positioned them just so, meticulously arranging each one to make sure it induced the precise mix of discomfort and luxury.
The table between you and Dr. Vargas is another matter entirely—a sleek slab of polished mahogany, thick enough that you could lean your entire weight on it without even a squeak of protest. Its surface is bare except for a single leather-bound notebook, a fountain pen and a ceramic dish, all aligned to a degree that feels almost militaristic. There’s not a single loose thread in the rug, not a fingerprint on the glass of the one window facing out onto a garden view that’s suspiciously verdant for the middle of winter.
Even the fern, perched in the corner like it’s waiting for its close-up, seems too green, too lush. It’s ridiculous, but it’s all part of the aesthetic, this carefully curated minimalism, the kind of cultivated restraint that says, “We don’t need embellishments. We’re here for the truth.” You’re here, supposedly, for honesty and revelation. But to you, it all feels a bit too staged, like a hotel that boasts a “homely charm” but is actually cold and sterile beneath the surface. You suspect Dr. Vargas might even mist the plant herself in some sacred ritual of maintenance, a sort of last-minute grounding exercise to fill the silence between clients.
You settle back in the chair, draping one leg over the other, and make a mental note to mention it next time you’re in some magazine interview. “Austere,” you’d say, “but in a chic way. I once caught my therapist hand-polishing the leaves of a houseplant.” You let yourself savour the image for a moment, glancing at the fern, which seems to return your gaze with silent judgement.
Dr. Vargas has her pen poised in that infuriatingly neutral way, a half-smile that somehow manages to be both welcoming and utterly unreadable. She’s mastered this look; the expression that says, I’m here for you while also suggesting she’s already a step ahead, already written your entire profile out in her head, neatly categorised into sub-headings like “Avoidant Tendencies” and “Control Issues.”
You begin with a sigh, throwing a glance at the ceiling in mock contemplation. “I’ve been thinking about another place. A chalet, maybe. Something in the mountains this time.” You pause, letting the idea sit, feigning like it’s just occurred to you. “Somewhere remote, where people can’t just… get to me”
You’re fully aware that she sees right through it. This isn’t her first rodeo; you’re sure she’s dealt with hundreds like you before, masters of diversion who fill sessions with banalities rather than facing anything real. But Dr. Vargas, in all her maddening professionalism, gives nothing away. She just tilts her head, the soft scratch of her pen against her notebook barely there as she writes something down.
“A place to escape,” she offers back to you in that maddeningly placid tone.
“Yes. Escape,” you echo, knowing full well the word holds no weight here. Escape from what, exactly? You let your leg bounce a little, as if the rhythm might lend some gravity to your words. “And there’s this new project I’m in talks with—A24, actually. They want me to do something… serious. A proper rebrand. Gritty. Artistic.” You drawl out “artistic” with the faintest of smirks, like you’re amused at the thought of it all. A lifetime of playing these games, and you’re practically a pro by now.
Dr. Vargas’s face betrays not a flicker of interest or amusement. She simply nods, that little encouraging tilt of her head again, like she’s waiting for you to get to the real point, the heart of the matter. But you’re not giving in so easily.
“It could be big, you know,” you continue, lifting your chin a fraction. “And I’ve got Alexia, of course.” The name slips out, deliberately nonchalant, though you feel its weight instantly, like it’s left a mark on the air between you.
Dr. Vargas raises her eyebrows, ever so slightly. “Alexia,” she repeats, not quite a question, not quite a statement. Just… acknowledgment, and yet it still feels as if she’s plucked something out of you without you realising. You don’t like it, the way she turns your own words against you.
“Yeah,” you say, shrugging. “She’s… brilliant. On the field, off it. You know, she’s—” You trail off, allowing a smirk to play on your lips. “Not bad to look at, either”
She gives no reaction, doesn’t even break eye contact. You imagine her poker face would rival that of any seasoned card shark. But it’s her silence that presses at you, coaxing out more than you intend to reveal. It’s a trick she’s used before, and yet here you are, willingly falling into it.
“Honestly,” you continue, almost laughing as if sharing some private joke, “you should see her after a match. There’s this… intensity, this rawness. Shirt off, sweat-drenched, eyes still blazing from the game. It’s… invigorating.” You roll the word around like a fine wine, savouring it as you go. “It’s like the universe threw me a bone, just when I was getting bored”
Dr. Vargas finally moves, a slight shift of her head, her mouth curving up in a near-smile. “And yet, you’re here”
Her words drop between you like a carefully placed stone. You scoff, rolling your eyes, but there’s something in her expression—an almost imperceptible softness that somehow feels like an accusation. “Therapy’s a hobby,” you shrug, leaning back, as if the very idea of anything deeper is laughable. “I’m always in therapy, Doc. News flash”
“Yes,” she agrees smoothly, not missing a beat, “but you don’t usually bring her up”
“Come on,” you counter, with a smirk that’s designed to look careless, “I bring her up all the time”
“Not like this”
Her voice is calm, almost gentle, but her gaze sharpens, pinning you in place. You feel a spike of irritation, or maybe it’s something else. You cast a look towards the fern, now faintly silhouetted by the afternoon sun, its shadow long and narrow across the wall, an unasked-for third party in this strange little dance. The absurdity of the whole scene hits you, but before you can fully detach, she’s speaking again.
“You’re talking about her differently. More… openly.” There’s no edge to her tone, no overt judgment, yet it feels like she’s peeled back a layer, glimpsed a part of you you hadn’t meant to reveal.
In the moments that follow, you stub out your cigarette on the pristine ceramic dish Vargas keeps on the table, the one she’s claimed is “not for smoking” but never actually moved after that one session. You’ve taken it as tacit permission, though you know damn well it irritates her—just another way to test the boundaries in a room that prides itself on having none. That’s half the point of these sessions: see how far you can stretch them. How much she’ll let you say, or not say. And you’ve mastered the art of saying absolutely nothing, all while filling the space with empty words.
Dr. Vargas doesn’t speak, doesn’t press, which is almost worse than if she did. There’s just the persistent softness in her eyes, the quiet implication that she understands more than you’d prefer. You remember Alexia’s eyes looking at you like that once, right after you’d tried to make some grand point about the nature of relationships—one of those pseudo-philosophical tangents you like to go on. She’d just looked at you, with a kind of bemused patience that felt a little too genuine, a little too close to knowing you.
You roll your shoulders, shake off the memory. But it clings.
“Alright,” you say, letting the smoke spill out as you form the words. “Maybe I don’t do ‘love’ like everyone else. I’m not here for a candlelit dinner and a mortgage. I’m not,” you add with a quick laugh, “one of those people who turn into some sap over a nice couple’s holiday in Santorini”
Dr. Vargas gives a small nod, an acknowledgement rather than agreement, her expression neutral but open, giving you room to continue.
“But, yes. Fine.” You take another drag, a deliberate pause. “Maybe I… care about her. I care about her. She’s different, alright?”
“Different how?” she asks gently, with an infuriatingly patient tone.
You groan, shifting in your seat. “Come on, don’t make me quantify it. That’s your thing, not mine.” You know you’re stalling, using your usual deflections, but there’s an itch underneath it, a part of you that feels raw just acknowledging that Alexia is, in fact, ‘different.’
You can feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to take the bait you’ve laid out for yourself.
“Fine, you want specifics?” you sigh, feigning annoyance, though you know you’re the one who’s led the conversation here. “She… laughs at my worst jokes. Like, really laughs. Not in a polite way, but genuinely, like she thinks I’m the funniest person alive, even when I’m barely trying. It’s stupid, really, but it gets me”
“And how does that make you feel?” Vargas leans forward, like she’s zeroing in on something significant.
You chuckle, low and dismissive, waving the question off with your cigarette. “How do you think it makes me feel? It’s… fine. Nice. A bit strange, maybe. I’m not used to being seen like that.” You pause, the weight of that admission lingering in the air between you.
She doesn’t react, doesn’t push; she just lets the moment settle, knowing there’s more.
You sigh, smoke curling up around you, as your mind goes back to other little things—the way she has this weird ritual of picking all the green M&Ms out of the bag and tossing them to you, claiming they’re “bad luck.” How she insists on reading the morning news out loud, in that silly, exaggerated announcer voice, just to make you laugh while you pretend to read emails. Or how she makes you tea at exactly the right temperature, handing you the mug with a grin like she’s just given you a priceless gift. These are things that, on the surface, should be forgettable, the kind of mundane moments that fade. But they don’t, do they? Not with her.
Dr. Vargas’s voice interrupts your reverie, soft but insistent. “You’re smiling”
You realise she’s right; you’re smiling without even meaning to, and it’s a small, stupid smile, the kind that feels too open. You try to erase it, but it’s too late. The vulnerability’s already there, a quiet confession written across your face.
You roll your eyes, more at yourself than at her. “Alright, so what? So she’s… alright, she’s fun. She’s got that energy, you know, that lightness. It’s kind of… refreshing”
The words slip out unbidden, and you feel a pang of something resembling regret. Refreshing. A word that implies something else by omission—that most of your life, most people you’ve known, have been exhausting. The irony isn’t lost on you: someone so completely different from your own brand of detached sarcasm, from your carefully cultivated ennui, has managed to slip under the radar and wedge herself into your carefully controlled life.
Dr. Vargas watches, her silence pressing you forward.
“Look, I don’t think about it too much,” you say, trying to inject a casual note into your tone. “I don’t need to psychoanalyse every smile, every inside joke. I’m not here to have my relationship broken down into neat little psych terms”
“Maybe you should think about it,” Vargas says gently. “Maybe that’s why you’re here”
You scoff, but there’s a softness in the sound, a hint of resignation. Because she’s right, isn’t she? You came here because, as much as you don’t want to admit it, this thing with Alexia has started to matter, in a way that’s both terrifying and strangely compelling. You’ve always prided yourself on staying a step removed, on being a spectator in your own life, observing rather than fully engaging. But with her, you’re finding it harder to keep that distance.
“Fine,” you mutter, leaning back, letting your head rest against the chair, staring up at the ceiling as though the answers might be written there. “Maybe she’s… special”
The words feel strange in your mouth, too vulnerable, too open. You don’t say “special” often, especially not in this context. But there it is, a reluctant admission.
“I mean, it’s not like I’m in love with her,” you continue, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “She’s great—don’t get me wrong. She’s amazing in bed. I can’t remember the last time someone made me cum so much. And she’s got this thing about her, you know? Like this fire, this intensity. It’s like when she looks at me, she’s looking right through me. And yeah, I guess that’s… intoxicating. But that’s all it is. Right?”
Dr. Vargas nods, a small, subtle gesture. “Why does that scare you?”
You don’t answer right away. Instead, you watch the smoke dancing away from your cigarette, dissipating into the air, leaving nothing behind but a faint, lingering scent. You think about what it is you’re so afraid of—because there’s something there, something you can’t quite name, a sense that if you let this thing with Alexia continue, it might change you in ways you’re not ready for.
“Because I don’t do… attachment,” you say finally, the words coming out sharper than intended. “I’ve built a life that doesn’t depend on anyone else. And she’s… she’s a complication”
You can feel Vargas watching you, sensing the weight of what you’re not saying, the unspoken truth that this isn’t just about Alexia, that it’s about something deeper, a fear of vulnerability, of losing control. She doesn’t push, though; she just waits, letting the silence do the work for her.
After a long pause, you take a breath, letting your gaze drift to the fern by the window, its leaves glossy and perfect, so meticulously maintained it almost looks fake. You wonder if it’s ever felt the strain of trying to keep everything together, to present a flawless exterior while something more fragile lurks beneath the surface.
“You know,” you say, almost to yourself, “it’s funny. For the longest time, I thought love was just a distraction, a temporary fix for people who couldn’t handle being alone.” You take another drag from your cigarette, exhaling slowly. “But with her, it’s… it’s different. It’s like she makes everything brighter, sharper, like she’s tuned into some frequency I didn’t know existed”
Dr. Vargas doesn’t respond, just nods, letting you continue.
“And the worst part?” You chuckle, a self-deprecating sound. “The worst part is that she’s getting to me. She’s in my head, even when she’s not there. I find myself thinking about her in the middle of the day, wondering what she’s up to, if she’s thinking about me too”
There’s a fragility in the admission, a crack in the armour you’ve built around yourself. And it terrifies you, this sense of letting someone in, of letting them get close enough to matter.
You stub out your cigarette, watching the last curl of smoke dissipate into the air. It feels like a metaphor for something, though you’re not sure what.
Dr. Vargas gives you a small, knowing smile. “Maybe falling in love isn’t as bad as you think it will be,” she says gently.
You shrug, trying to play it off, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s right. Because for all your detachment, all your carefully cultivated distance, there’s something about Alexia that feels like home, like she’s a part of you you didn’t realise was missing.
“Maybe,” you say, the words soft, barely audible.
Love. The word lingers like an uninvited guest. You try to dismiss it, try to laugh it off, but it keeps creeping back in.
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hearts4werka · 1 day ago
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NNN day 10 | Newborn Miracle
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summary: the time has finally come, you and chris are going to become parents. Both of you are filled with joy and nervousness at the same time since this is a big step both of you have to make now and you’re ready more than ever for the adventures that lay ahead of you.
warnings: none, just child birth but besides it’s just chris becoming a proud father
authors note: this idea is so adorable I love the concept of babydad!chris and I need more people to write about it, so this is your sign to go do that rn 🫵 luv yall silk and hope y’all enjoy this one
no nut november | masterlist | guestlist
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The sun had now began to rise, casting a golden color across the sky as I sat nervously in the passenger seat of Chris’s car, my hand clutching the hospital bag like it was a lifeline. Today was the day we had waited for, the day our lives would change forever. After months of preparing ourselves, endless conversations and debates about baby names and painting the nursery a soft shade of orange we were about to meet our little one. Chris was driving with a focused gaze I hadn’t seen before, his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.
Every so often he would spare glances at me, his blue eyes shining with excitement. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, his voice being a mix of joy and disbelief at whats going to happen today. I turned to him, my heart racing as I speak. “I think so. I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” I replied, feeling butterflies fluttering in my stomach. The thought of actually becoming a parent was almost hard to believe . When we finally arrived at the hospital, the adrenaline kicked in.
We rushed through the automatic doors, our hearts pounding all together. The bright lights and the familiar smell of sanitary welcomed us as we checked in and were hushed towards the maternity section. The atmosphere was filled with anticipation but not just ours but from families around us, each with their own maternity story. After what felt like forever, it was time for me to be called in. Chris held my hand tightly as we walked together into the delivery room. My heart raced as I settled onto the hospital bed and feeling the cool sheets under me.
Nurses huddled around while preparing equipment for the delivery while Chris stood by my side, whispering soft words of motivation. Hours passed with the soft rhythm of contractions guiding us through the whole experience. Chris was never far from me and his presence felt like a warm blanket of comfort. He kept running his hands through my hair, his calming voice reminding me that we were in this together. “You’re doing amazing,” he softly whispered, his faith in me growing by the second. Finally, after what felt like an ongoing battle of will and strength, the moment arrived.
I could feel the overwhelming urge to push, and with each contraction, I used every ounce of strength I had left. In those intense moments, Chris’s eyes became my own. “You’ve got this, ma,” he reassured me, and I leaned into that support. With one final push and an intense surge of energy I didn’t know I had, we heard the most beautiful sound-our baby’s first ever cry. It was like music to our ears.
Suddenly, everything else faded away around us, the pain, the noise, the world outside. In that instant, all that mattered was the life that had just entered into our world. The doctor gently handed our baby to me, and my heart twisted with joy. I looked down and there they were, our little bundle of happiness in soft white blankets. Chris’s breath caught in his throat as he came closer with his eyes wide, filled with emotion all kinds of emotions. “Can I hold them?” he asked, his voice trembling with excitement. “Of course,” I smiled, shifting so he could take our baby.
Chris cradled our little one against his chest, and I watched as he radiated with pure love. He kissed their tiny forehead, an expression of shock shadowing his face. “You did it. You brought us this miracle,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion coming straight from the heart. Chris looked down at our baby as if they were the most precious treasure in the world. “I want to do skin-to-skin,” he said and I could see the excitement radiating from him. The nurses smiled approvingly and helped him gently remove his shirt, placing our baby against his bare chest.
The warmth of the moment hugged us as Chris’s skin touched our child’s delicate body. He looked at me, letting the little one into his now vulnerable heart. “Can you believe this?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Our little one squirmed, their little hand reaching for where Chris’s heartbeat lies. I could see a connection forming, a bond that would last a lifetime. Tears filled my eyes as I watched the two of the most important people in my life together.
It was a moment of pure beauty, one I will cherish forever. Chris looked at me and grinned, as his face radiated with joy. “We’re parents,” he said, still star struck, “and this is just the beginning.” In that room surrounded by the warmth of new beginnings, we held each other close, both over the moon and overwhelmed by all of it. Our family was here, and we were ready for the wonderful adventure ahead.
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@hearts4werka
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Guestlist!
| - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |
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temiizpalace · 2 hours ago
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☆┊THE POCKY GAME
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SUMMARY: playing the pocky game with your crush!
CHARACTERS: all dorms (-ortho)
GENRE: fluff
WARNINGS: cursing, suggestive? not really tho
NOTES: happy pocky day!! I think this game is actually really cute teehee. what’s ur guys favorite pocky? (mines the chocolate or matcha one 🙏🙏)
reader is g/n, reader is yuu
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GOES IN FLUSTERED, COMES OUT CONFIDENT
you caught him so off guard. he was just minding his own business, doing his thing, then suddenly you hit him with a game like this? really are you trying to kill him, prefect? does this count as a confession?? he feels hot, is his face red? he didn’t even know pocky day existed!
despite his internal panicking, how could he possibly say no to you? placing the biscuit between his lips, letting you have the chocolate side (or whatever flavor u want) like the gentleman he is. slowly, bite by bite his face inches closer to yours. his heart is killing him, but he doesn’t dare to lose. finally reaching to the midsection, his lips find yours, sharing a small sweet kiss before pulling away.
that was much more fun than he thought it’d be. how about another round?
riddle, trey, jack, kalim, silver, malleus
GOES IN CONFIDENT, COMES OUT A LOSER
he was so smug when you asked. say less prefect! he’ll play the game with you since you’re so desperate!
then suddenly he gets second thoughts once you both begin to bite down on the biscuit. little by little, the proximity between you two began to close, his heartbeat racing at the speed of light. thump thump thump. he could barely control his breathing and his palms were beginning to grow sweaty. by the time you’ve expected a kiss, he pulled away, feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed.
his cheeks were burning hot and there was a discerning look on his face that screamed flustered. with all the talk he had before, maybe this reaction was better than the anticipated kiss. but where’s the fun in that? you pull out another pocky stick, putting it between your lips for a second time with a devilish grin. you’re killing him, prefect.
ace, cater, ruggie, epel, sebek
A LOSER
had to think long and hard about playing. not cause he didn’t want to, but because he knows he’s going to humiliate himself in front of you.
so how did he find himself standing in front of you, with a pocky in his mouth, inching closer and closer to your face after each passing second? this. is. bad. he’s actually going to fail and look like a godforsaken fool. is his face red? it’s red isn’t it? he should’ve known better. not even halfway, he backs up, covering the lower half of his face with his hand.
please forgive him, but he might just DIE and EXPLODE if he hadn’t done what he just did. it’s not just about his safety, it’s about yours too. please don’t tease him he’s already so embarrassed for being a wimp.
he’s already weak in the knees just being beside you, kissing you would be a whole nother story.
deuce, azul, idia
A FUCKING TEASE
another smug one. except this one has plans to win and actually stick to it. rather than just standing in front of you, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer. you hesitate for a moment, taken aback by his bold actions.
the game grew intense, his eyes staring daggers into your own. you’re not even sure if he was blinking (he wasn’t). he took in your reaction, engraved it in the back of his mind, and plans to replay these moments like they were a cinematic masterpiece. just when you were about to pull away, his lips meet yours, sharing a breathtaking kiss.
your face was warm and wore an expression of shock. he loved it. ah, ah, ah, not so fast prefect. technically that was a tie! what’s a game without a winner? looks like another round is in order..
jade, jamil, rook, lilia
SOMEHOW A WORSE TEASE
pocky game? why would we want to do that when he could just do this?
cupping your cheek, he leans over and places a chaste kiss on your lips. it was a gentle kiss, contrasting with the way his hands traveled down to your waist, holding my you firmly in place. his eyes bored into you, enjoying your shock. he was smug. so smug. you could feel him smiling against your lips, leaning in closer and closer til you finally had the opportunity to push him away.
he only smirked in return, letting you go, grabbing a pocky and walking away as if nothing happened.
punch him. you wanted to punch him.
leona, jade, floyd, jamil, vil
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A/N: jamil was self indulgent ngl
date published: 11/11/24
© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!
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rafeswhre · 3 hours ago
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orrrr rafe having to deal with a tipsy reader but lowkey being overwhelmed at the whole situation cuz she’s being so lovey dovey and clingy but they’re not dating? 😭
rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of alcohol, suggestive comments
a/n: this is my first time posting i’m so scared loll hope you like it, thanks for sending it🫶🏼 btw english isn’t my first language, let me know any mistakes.
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“I don’t know, Top!” You laughed loudly while talking to Topper, who, to be honest, wasn’t actually funny. It was probably just the number of drinks you’d already had.
“Girl, you’re tipsy!” Topper laughed at you while sipping from his whiskey glass.
“I’m not.” You rolled your eyes and tried to take another shot—at least, you tried.
“You’re done.” Rafe took the shot from your hand and moved it away from you. By the way, who knows where he had come from; you hadn’t seen him since the party started.
“What do you mean I’m done? I’m just starting.” You gave the guy in front of you a funny look.
“I mean you’re done, princess. Let’s go.” Rafe took your arm and started guiding you through the crowd.
“Baby, you’re soooo boring.” You pouted at him once you arrived in the parking lot.
“Baby?” He raised his eyebrows, looking at you.
“What’s wrong? You call me princess all the damn time, I don’t say shit to ya, big boy.” You rolled your eyes.
“Watch that mouth of yours.” He leaned back against his car.
“Why are you so grumpy all the time?” You slowly got closer to him, resting your hands on his shoulders and giving them a little squeeze.
Rafe looked closely at your hands moving down his arms. “I’m not grumpy all the time.”
“I’m not grumpy all the time.” You imitated him in a funny voice and burst out laughing before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “’Course you are.” You whispered in his ear.
Rafe cleared his throat and looked everywhere but at your eyes. “Come on, let’s get you home.” He tried to escape your little grip.
“I don’t wanna go home, Ray!” You pouted again. “Let’s stay here; we could have so much fun! More fun than we’d have in your car, let me tell ya.”
“Why are you so complicated?” He rolled his eyes.
“Why are you so boring?” You teased him, poking his arms. “Although I can think of ways to have fun in your car too.” You got close to him, giving him a significant look.
“Stop saying stuff like that.” He opened his eyes wide, feeling out of place.
“Are you freaking out, Rafey?” you asked, teasing.
“Don’t call me that.” He frowned.
“Why not? That’s what all your bitches call you.”
“No! Just- just get in the car, kay?” He opened the passenger door so you could get in.
“We adore a gentleman.” You said as you climbed into the car. He closed the door and walked around the car to get into the driver’s seat.
The atmosphere filled with an overwhelming silence; Rafe hadn’t even started the car. You felt a little guilty.
While it was true that you weren’t entirely sober, you weren’t drunk either. You knew what you were doing; it was just that the bit of alcohol had given you the confidence to tell him things you wouldn’t say when fully sober.
“Rafe?” you asked nervously.
“Mmh?” He didn’t even look at you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—I know we’re friends; I didn’t mean to make you feel bad—” Suddenly, you felt like the alcohol in your body had disappeared.
“Hey, hey.” He looked at you. “It’s alright, it’s not that, kay?” He buried his head in his hands.
“So? What is it?” You tilted your head to the side, confused.
He sighed. “You know, all your attitudes and shit.” He waved his hand in the air, trying to make you understand. “You’re getting all touchy and clingy.”
“Oh—” You looked away.
“No, no, hey.” He gently took your face and made you look at him. “Look at me, baby. It’s not a bad thing; it’s alright—it’s just—you’re kinda cold all the time. I’ve never seen you this way, it freaked me out.”
“You’ve never been with a tipsy girl?” You giggled.
“Nah, yeah, I have. I said I’ve never seen you this way. It’s different.” He turned on the car.
“What do you mean? Why would it be?”
He turned on the radio.
“Are you ignoring me, Rafe?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” You frowned.
“Nah, I’m not.” He said while steering with one hand on the wheel.
You sighed and rolled your eyes.
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chelseaknoo · 3 days ago
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OKAY, SO HOW ABOUT THIS IDEA: The reader is Eminem’s assistant (with major office siren vibes), and Marshall quickly becomes intrigued by her. He finds her serious, focused personality incredibly attractive and can’t resist flirting with her at every opportunity. While she finds his advances annoying and stays professional, underneath it all, there’s a spark she tries to ignore.And at the end they end up together 😍😍😍
Eminem x assistant!Reader
Caution: sexual content ♡
Note:this is the most creative request I’ve ever seen…And I love it!
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The famous Detroit rapper, Eminem, was your boss—and working as his assistant was nothing short of stressful. It wasn’t just the demands of the job that made it challenging; it was the fact that your boss seemed to have a noticeable attraction toward you.
He often flirted openly, dropping sly comments and playful remarks, sometimes catching you off guard when you were trying to focus. His advances weren’t limited to private settings either—he’d casually ask you out on dates even in front of his friends, leaving you flustered and unsure of how to respond.
One memorable incident occurred when you accidentally dropped a stack of papers. As you bent down to pick them up, you felt the unmistakable touch of his hand coming into harsh contact with your ass. Turning around quickly, you met his mischievous smirk. "Couldn’t help myself," he had said, his voice dripping with casual confidence.
Despite how overwhelming his behavior could be, there was something undeniably magnetic about him. You tried to maintain a professional exterior, brushing off his advances and focusing on the work at hand. But deep down, his charm was difficult to ignore. Every teasing word, every lingering glance, left a tension between you that neither of you could deny.
One day, while you were busy at the printer, you heard Marshall call out, "Hey, come over here for a sec." Sighing and feeling a bit irritated, you left your work and walked over to him.
“What is it, Marshall?” you asked, trying to keep the impatience out of your voice.
He leaned back in his chair, giving you a playful look. "Come sit on my lap," he said, patting his leg as if it were the most casual request in the world.
Your eyes narrowed. “Absolutely not,” you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Alright, but I might have to dock a little of your pay if you don’t."
You hesitated, glaring at him. “Are you serious?”
He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “I’m always serious,” he replied with a mischievous grin. You knew he was probably joking, but the thought of him actually cutting your pay made you huff in annoyance.
Reluctantly, you lowered yourself onto his lap, trying to keep your posture as stiff and professional as possible. Sitting there, you couldn’t help but notice how close his face was to your chest, and the look in his eyes made your cheeks warm.
"There. Happy?" you asked, avoiding his gaze.
Marshall gave a low chuckle, clearly pleased with himself. "Very," he replied, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he looked up at you. “You’re always so serious… It’s kinda cute, you know.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smile back. "Are you done now?"
He shrugged, still smirking. “Maybe… but I think I’m starting to like having you this close.”
Despite yourself, you felt a small flutter of excitement. But you kept your expression neutral, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under your skin.
He leaned in slowly, his breath warm against your neck as his lips brushed softly over your skin. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your resolve slipping. His hand moved up to gently caress the soft locks of your hair, his fingers threading through with surprising tenderness. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you found yourself blushing, unable to ignore the rush of feelings that washed over you.
Marshall lifted his head and looked into your eyes, a mix of mischief and sincerity flickering in his gaze. Before you could say anything, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. You felt your heart race, and despite every intention to keep things professional, you couldn’t help but melt into the moment.
His other hand cupped your face, and you instinctively reached up, placing one of your hands on the side of his face. The stubble on his jawline tickled your fingertips, grounding you in the reality of what was happening. The kiss deepened, growing more intense, as if the two of you were releasing every unspoken word and every stolen glance that had built up between you.
When you finally pulled away, your breaths were ragged, and neither of you spoke for a moment. Marshall’s thumb traced small circles on your cheek, and he gave you a lopsided grin. "You know," he murmured softly, "you really do drive me crazy."
You bit your lip, unsure of what to say, but knowing deep down that everything between you had just changed in ways you couldn’t ignore.
Without another word, you found yourself leaning back into the kiss, your hand sliding around to the back of his neck to pull him closer. The chair creaked under his weight, but it didn’t matter—you were lost in the moment. His hand slipped from your hair to the small of your back, drawing you closer still, until there wasn’t an inch of space between you. The feeling was overwhelming, but in that moment, all you could do was give in to it.
Marshall’s hands began to roam, exploring the curves of your body with an urgency that seemed to match your own. You felt his hand move up to your waist, and he began to lift you up slightly, adjusting you on his lap so that you were straddling him. The fabric of your skirt rustled as you moved, and you felt a thrill at the thought of someone walking in on you—the scandal of it all.
The chair groaned in protest as you shifted your weight, but you were too lost in the sensation of his hands on your body to care. His kisses grew more demanding, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that made your head spin. You could feel his desire pressing against you, and it was all you could do not to moan out loud.
Your own hands found their way under his shirt, feeling the warm, firm planes of his abs. His skin was surprisingly soft, and you couldn’t help but trace your fingertips over the tattoos that adorned his body. He sucked in a sharp breath as you touched a particularly sensitive spot, and you felt a surge of power knowing that you could elicit such a reaction from him.
Marshall’s hands moved up to your low cut blazer, deftly unbuttoning it with one hand while his other arm held you steady.
He broke the kiss for a moment, his eyes dark with desire as they searched yours for permission. You nodded, your own eyes glazed with lust, and he took that as the invitation he needed. His mouth descended to your neck, kissing and nipping as he unbuttoned your shirt and pushed it aside to expose your black lace bra. His hand slipped under the fabric to squeeze your flesh gently, and you gasped at the contact.
The chair rocked slightly as he adjusted you on his lap, his hands moving to the clasp of your bra. With a swift motion, he unhooked it, and it fell away, revealing your breasts to the cool office air. He took one in his hand, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak before taking it into his mouth. You threw your head back, a soft moan escaping your lips, as the sensation sent waves of pleasure through your body.
Your own hands had been busy, too—they found the hem of his shirt and began to lift it over his head, revealing his toned torso and the tapestry of tattoos that covered his chest. You traced the ink with your fingertips, feeling the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart beneath. His muscles flexed as he removed the shirt entirely, tossing it aside.
With your bodies now fully engaged, you both seemed to be in a silent understanding of where this was heading. You reached down and unbuckled his belt, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. The button of his pants followed, and you slid the zipper down, freeing his hardened length. He groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing the soft mound of your breast as he tasted you.
You pushed his pants and boxers down, and he adjusted his position, lifting you slightly to align your bodies. The anticipation was thick as you felt the head of his erection at your entrance. The chair’s leather was cold against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat building between you. With a gentle thrust, he filled you, and you couldn’t help but gasp as you took him in.
The chair rocked rhythmically under the weight of your passion, the sound muffled by the thick office carpet. His hands gripped the armrests tightly as he began to move his hips, his eyes locked on yours, searching for every sign of pleasure. You wrapped your legs around him, grinding down to meet each thrust, the friction sending sparks of sensation through your core.
The leather of the chair was cold and unforgiving against your bare skin, but the heat from Marshall’s body and the passion burning between you was more than enough to warm you. Each time he entered you, a gasp would escape your lips, and he seemed to take it as a challenge to make the next one louder.
Your hands had moved from his neck to his broad shoulders, gripping tightly as his hips drove into you. The chair groaned in time with your movements, the rhythmic sound a testament to the intensity building within. The office around you faded away, the only reality being the two of you, entwined and moving together as one.
Marshall’s grip tightened on your hips, his breathing growing ragged as he fought to keep his strokes slow and measured. You could feel his restraint, his desire to let go and take you harder, faster, but he held back, savoring the moment. His eyes never left yours, a silent promise that he would never let you fall.
With each deep plunge, you felt your orgasm building, the tension coiling in your belly like a tight spring. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moans that threatened to spill out, not wanting to be caught in such a compromising position by anyone who might walk in. But the pleasure was too intense, and soon you couldn’t hold it back any longer.
Your nails dug into his shoulders as the spring inside you snapped, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You threw your head back, letting out a loud moan. Marshall’s eyes widened, and he paused for a moment, looking at you with a mix of surprise and admiration before leaning in to capture your mouth again.
He picked up the pace, his movements becoming more erratic as he approached his own climax. The chair creaked and swayed precariously, echoing the intensity of the moment. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck as he kissed and nibbled, his hands now squeezing your ass as he pushed you down onto him, filling you completely.
The room was a blur of passion, the only clear focus the two of you and the chair that was now the stage of your forbidden act.
“I guess I should get back to work,” you said, reluctantly standing up from his lap and straightening your clothes. You tried to keep your tone light, but there was no hiding the lingering warmth in your cheeks.
Marshall leaned back in his chair, a playful glint still in his eyes. “Or,” he began, a slow smile spreading across his face, “you could take the day off and spend it with me.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “And what about all the work piling up on my desk?” you teased, though a part of you was tempted by the idea.
He waved a dismissive hand, as if it were the simplest problem in the world. “Forget about it. Work can wait.” Then, he leaned forward, his expression softening. “Come on. Don’t worry—I’ll still pay you for the day.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “You really know how to sweeten the deal, don’t you?”
“Is it working?” he asked, tilting his head, a touch of hopefulness in his voice.
You pretended to consider it, tapping your chin with exaggerated thoughtfulness. “Hmm… I suppose a day off might not be the worst thing in the world.”
He grinned, standing up and closing the distance between you in one stride. “That’s what I like to hear. So… what do you say? Just you, me, and no distractions?”
You hesitated for a split second before nodding. “Alright. You win.”
Marshall’s smile widened as he reached for your hand. “Good. I promise you won’t regret it.” And with that, the two of you stepped away from the confines of work, ready to see where the day would lead. <3
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helloooo!! I absolutely adore your works puts me to sleep with a great bag ass smile on my face! Can you please write about the moon boys where the reader is a complete bimbo/ fashion fanatic showing off her newly bought clothes and accessories to them
I hope this is okay! I'm not so good with bimbo reader, so this is a lot more like reader that likes fashion. <3
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Moon Boys x gn!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •
Warnings: Fluff, silliness, a little mention of masturbating in (semi)public, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!
Word Count: 712
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Steven Grant
Is super interested in your love of fashion because you are interested in it. Literally loves to listen to you talk about it for hours and will not get bored. Asks lots of questions and gets so happy when you excitedly tell him the answers. 
Loves going shopping with you, will give you his honest opinion on everything, even if he disagrees. “That’s awful love.” “I like it.” “Well then get it, of course, it’ll look beautiful on you, but it is hideous.” Pulls faces to make you laugh. The only thing he’ll really grumble about is if you wear clothing that feels bad (sensory wise) for him, but he’ll do it in a jokey way.
“You know where this would look better, love?” “On your bedroom floor?” “No, in the bin.” 
Is happy for you to suggest some clothing choices for him, but he won’t change his style/comfort, he’s very content to be himself. However, he does adore it when you buy him clothing because you always make sure it’s something he would like and it makes his heart so full that you put in so much time and consideration for him. (When he expresses this and you tell him, ‘duh, of course, I love you silly!’ you are getting 1000 kisses. No other option.) 
Really likes it when you try on sexy outfits in changing rooms and send him photos. (This has led to him asking you to touch yourself and send him a video while you do it.)
Marc Spector
Gets a little nervous sometimes if he comes with you shopping in person, this depends on if the shop is very busy/the lights are really bright and overwhelming. It’s difficult to let when he gets overstimulated, because Marc masks a lot and has done so for a very long time. Plus, even if you’ve told him you want him to tell you, he doesn’t want to ruin your fun. 
Also likes it when you buy him clothes, always washes them before he wears them and usually asks you to wear them/lay on them before he puts them on so that they smell like you.
Don’t tell you if he hates something, tries to be so polite, but you can tell because he does a little ‘oh’ face with raised eyebrows before he gets his expression back under control. 
Surprisingly, really loves bright colours. Doesn’t tend to wear them much himself, but is always drawn to them. Really loves whatever personal style you have (bright or dark colours, he doesn’t care, you look amazing no matter what.) and will try really hard to point things out/show you what he thinks you’ll like/fits with your vibe.
Really likes watching shows about fashion with you, gets very invested in The Great British Sewing Bee.
Jake Lockley
Has so much fun going clothes shopping (in person or online) with you and having a massive try on montage. Literally flings the curtains open so dramatically. Will try on anything for the thrill of it. 
Quite often you both have a silly day where you try to dress as each other, this has led to some very realistic interpretations and some utterly chaotic ones. 
If he’s annoyed with you he will find the most eye watering outfit in the universe and wear it, saying ‘It’s the height of fashion’. 
His favourite t-shirt to sleep in is one with grammatically incorrect spanish on it that he found in a charity shop and thought it was hilarious. You cannot get him to part with it for love or money, even though it is falling apart and he has fixed it many times. (You don’t actually want him to get rid of it, but it’s become a fun little teasing game both of you play with each other.)
I’ve said many times that I headcanon Jake as a knitter, (because he is (joking)), I think he would happily knit with you/teach you if you wanted/didn’t know how to. He’ll also happily make you lots of clothes and accessories as gifts. However, it took him a long, long time to ever make and give you a jumper because of the knitter's curse and he just got so paranoid about it.
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hyperdramas · 12 hours ago
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assumptions | lee seokmin
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pairing: lee seokmin x reader
warning: non-idol au, angst, romance, major league baseball player!seokmin, popular x nobody, depressing themes, unlikely meeting, sprinkles of fluff, miscommunication, pg-13/some suggestive themes (??) mentions of peer pressure, drinking & insecurity, cursing, there IS a happy ending (i promise)
playlist: assumptions, sam geliatry | runaway houses city clouds, tame impala | softcore, the neighborhood | passion, pinkpantheress
part: 1 of 3 extra note: thank the amazing @slytherinshua for coming up with this absolutely GENIUS idea🙏 / word count: 1.7k (longest thing i've written???)
Even though popular and talented Major League Baseball player Lee Seokmin had everything that eleven-year-old him would've wanted, he felt empty as he watched his own replays on the television.
Seokmin had fame—he was known everywhere, not only for his raw talent as a pitcher, but his model-like qualitites and his supposedly likeable personality. Seokmin had money—he lived in a pretty upscale apartment that was cut off for the rest of society, tucked away on a cliff overlooking the bustling night view. Seokmin had merit—he was praised for his physical ability, humble disposition, and respectable talent.
He had it all, and yet he had absolutely nothing.
Just hours earlier, the crowd's roar was tantalizing, drawing Seokmin in as he stared out at the thousands of fans coming to cheer for him and his team. Now, it sounded static-like and overwhelming, the sound unbearable as he had to switch the television, sighing as he moved away from the suffocating room that was once his comforting living room.
Seokmin's footsteps echoed into the empty, lavish kitchen, white tile unblemished as he searched his fridge. He wasn't hungry, but he looked inside it anyways, closing it moments after as he sighed to himself, hands in his hair as he rested his elbows on the sleek marble countertop.
Why did he feel so empty? He had his teammates if he needed to call, but he didn't want to hear their voices right now. He didn't know why he was angry at them, but he was.
Seokmin was never an angry person—sure, he got fired up at times or had strong opinions that he wasn't going to let go without a fight, but he was never one to just be angry for no reason. Something was bothering with him, but he couldn't figure out what it was or how to stop it.
Why was he even trying anymore?
"Fuck." Seokmin sighed out the curse word, bite still harsh behind it as he let his head fall down on the counter with a hard knock.
A knock at his door brought him out of his sour reverie, and he stared at it confused. He lived far off from the nearest residental area—who was here? How did they get here?
The doorbell rang just seconds later, and Seokmin groaned, tired eyes empty as he made his way to the front door, swinging it open to reveal you, standing in all of your oblivious, confused glory.
"Can I help you?" Seokmin's voice was obviously not the one you were expecting to hear, and you jumped at it, face a hot, blaring red as you realized what was actually going on here.
Your friend had given you an address that a party was going to be at, and you reluctantly promised that you would go. You had followed the directions to the letter, and didn't even think twice about when you arrived at the massive apartment, undeterred by the lack of cars or absence of party music.
You were obviously at the wrong house.
"Can I help you?" Seokmin repeated again—this time around, his voice was sharper, more annoyed. You stood in shock, obviously in denial that this had happened to you.
"Is there a party going on here?" You questioned, and Seokmin blinked, silent before he shook his head slowly. "....No?"
Not only were you at the wrong apartment, but you were at popular celebrity Lee Seokmin's apartment. The Major League Baseball player your little cousin was a fan of was standing right in front of you, in his attractive, dashing glory.
"I'm so at the wrong house." You say awkwardly, and Seokmin just stares at you, just as confused and disturbed as you are. There was this random girl at his door, talking about a party that he had heard absolutely nothing about.
"Yeah, you are." Seokmin actually let out a little laugh at that, eyes crinkling like the ways you say they did on television. You smiled, an even brighter red because the Lee Seokmin was laughing at you.
"Well, I should go. I'm sorry, uh, Mr. Lee." You said, trying to mend the awkwardness you were feeling. Seokmin paused, eyebrows furrowing together slightly as he spoke. "You know who I am?"
"Well, yeah. My—my little cousin—he's a really big fan of you." You reply, mind somewhere else. You're not a big fan of the man or anything, but you have said he's attractive on multiple occasions to your Major League Baseball-enraptured friends (who would not let you live it down if you told them that you had met him by accident).
"That's sweet," He says, and you nod, offering a small 'yeah' as the two of you fall quiet. "We'll, I'll go now." You say, smiling awkwardly as you start to walk away.
"Stop." Seokmin's voice is quick, but strong, and you pause, turning back around as you meet his gaze. His brown eyes were even prettier in person, and the tight, black tank top he was wearing (and you were trying to ignore) just made the whole ordeal even more unbelievable.
"Can you stay?" I just—" Seokmin pauses, struggling to find the right words. He couldn't even believe what was coming out of his mouth right now, but he couldn't seem to stop the words from coming. "I don't want to be alone."
You were stunned, unable to speak for a second as you replayed his words—he was asking you, a random college girl who inputed the wrong directions and ended up at a celebrity's rich-looking apartment—to stay with him.
And here you were, saying yes. "Yeah, uh—sure." You conceded, stepping inside the apartment as you slipped off your shoes.
Everything was so upscale, and you felt out of place, t-shirt and sweatpants doing nothing but making you feel like you were intruding in Seokmin's clean, neat space.
"Make yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink?" Seokmin was in his kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water as he looked to you for your response.
You were watching his back intently, watching how his muscles tensed when he did certain things—he was built, no doubt about it, and you could imagine the curve of his collarbone and dip of his abs from your vantage point.
"Oh, um, water's fine." You answer, noticing that Seokmin had been staring at you for who knows how long, waiting on a reply.
He went to work, filling your glass as he passed it to you. It was cold, and you took a sip, quiet as Seokm looked out the massive window that stood his dining room. The air between you two was still very awkward, but you felt like you could open up about anything to him, and he wouldn't judge you like your mom or friends would.
"So, you live here all alone?" You questioned, and Seokmin nodded, taking another sip of water. "Yeah. It's just me." Seokmin answered, and his hand tightened around the glass. He was so alone, and so miserable.
"What about you? Do you live alone?" Seokmin returns your question, and you shake your head. "I live with a college friend."
"Oh." Seokmin nods, and you nod with him, silence falling over you two again. It was so awkward, sitting with this famous baseball player while drinking cold water and talking about your living situations. Could your night get any weirder?
You studied Seokmin's face, never really paying attention to it while you were talking. All the pictures never really did him justice—his eyes were prettier in person, and you never knew that he had a tiny beauty mark on his cheek. You guess it must've always been covered up, or obscured by his helmet.
His frame was as described by everyone in love with him—he was strong and broad, muscles bulging from his sleeveless tank top.
According to a Men's Health article you read once, Seokmin worked out daily, and they weren't lying—he looks like he was sculped by God, spending hours and hours to get to where he was now.
"Thanks for staying, by the way. I know it was weird, asking you to randomly stay with me in my house." Seokmin becomes timid, and you shake your head, shrugging. "Of course. I mean—I have nothing better to do, and I really didn't want to go to that party my friends were going to."
"You really didn't want to go, did you? You came to the wrong address just you wouldn't have to, huh?" Seokmin laughs, making a joke. You flush, laughing nervously as you set down your glass. "I guess you could say that, yeah."
The laughing dies out between you after a while, and you yawn, eyes growing heavy. Whether it's because the lack of real conversation you and Seokmin are having, or the fact that his voice is so calming and down-to-earth that you could phase into his countertop and sleep forever, you don't know.
"Your eyes are closing." Seokmin says—his voice sounds like he's laughing at you, but you're too busy fighting sleep off that you let it slide. "Well, yeah, I guess so."
"You're getting sleepy, aren't you?" Seokmin questions again, and you nod without thinking, head falling on the countertop as you mumble a yes.
Seokmin leaves his place on the other side of the countertop, making his way over to you as he leads you by the shoulders into his living room. His massive, warm hands engulf your shoulders easily, and you let him lead you, not putting up a fight as he lays you on his plush, velvet couch.
"What will the people think if they found out I was sleeping on your couch?" You muse, half-asleep. Seokmin pauses, brain racing at your simple question—so many things could happen if this were leaked to the public. His clean image would be stained by dating rumors if that happened to you, and Seokmin didn't know what he would do if the word actually got out.
"They're not going to." Seokmin says blankly, and you mumble something before drifting to sleep. Seokmin stares down at you, watching your soft features contort into a neutral expression.
What would reporters say? What would his teammates say? What would his coach say? What would his manager say?
Seokmin didn't know, but he found himself not wanting to think about that as he dimmed the living room's lights, walking upstairs to his room as he stripped himself of his pants and got into his bed, lights going out as he stared into the darkness.
What was he doing?
feedback & reblogs are so appreciated! i wanna hear your thoughts :>
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adhd-community · 2 days ago
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i'm hyperverbal, and my partner is easily overwhelmed by too much talking. i have a hard time even processing a thought until i've said it out loud, though. if i don't talk myself through it, i just get stuck and say nothing. not to mention, i have a hard time deciding what's actually worth saying out loud until i've said it. how can i talk to my partner while,,, talking less?
It's all about finding ways to exist together that support both of your needs. I am reading that your partner has noted they find a lot of chat overwhelming and you tend to chat a lot and struggle to know when or how to stop/start (somehow I identify with both of these...).
The first two questions are:
What is it that your partner finds overwhelming? Too many thoughts verbalised too quickly? The noise? Trying to follow the conversation? Do the reasons change from time to time?
Why are you chatting? Are you looking for connection? Reassurance? Is it accidental? Do these reasons sometimes change?
Understanding yourself and each other can be REALLY helpful in these situations in order to work out what will meet both your needs.
Finally for some hypertalkitivity tips, some things that have helped me in the past with situations like these are:
Before launching into something you're thinking about, check in with the other person on whether they are up for a chat, or whether they would prefer a little quiet time. If they need quiet time, respect that (it's not a rejection, I promise) and find another outlet for your energy/thoughts.*
Make sure you and your partner are on the same page about why you're talking and what level of engagement is needed from them. I had this issue with a friend while travelling (I chat while packing and they were getting overwhelmed). We talked about it and I explained that when this happens I don't need (or expect) them to actually listen, at most it would be nice if they occasionally said "hmm good question" or "mmmm" so I didnt feel lonely or get distracted. This isn't something they need so they had thought I wanted them to deeply listen and answer questions each time and were understandably EXHAUSTED. This convo, and following "heads up, I'm doing the thing - let me know if you need quiet time" chats avoided a lot of potential tension!
If you are having trouble with impulsively talking, find something that tends to help you have "quiet time". For me this is listening to something through headphones that I dont need to pay too much attention to or actually "watch" but still find really enjoyable (e.g. podcasts or super-long game-plays (thank you Jacksepticeye amiright?)) For some reason this signals "no talking" to my brain and I can quietly focus in other things - find yours!
Take a few deep breaths and talk a little slower. When ADHDers are hypertalkative and REALLY into a thought, it can be... intense. Passion is wonderful but taking a second to recognise that your partner is probs also having several thoughts/their own experience and it will take them a second to adjust is always appreciated.
*Other possible outlets for your energy/thoughts!
Write it in a notebook
Type it out or speak it to an AI chatbot!
Call a friend or family member
Do something physical to reduce the mental restlessness (this can be exercise, or even just doing some dishes or gardening etc - just something that makes your brain feel less like it needs to work out everything in the world RIGHT NOW)
Try a guided meditation to slow your thoughts
In the end only you and your partner will be able to work out what's best for you both, but I hope this has helped!
Remember that just because they don't want to chat right now does NOT mean they don't want to hear your thoughts at all. It's likely they just need to recharge their social batteries so that they can have cute chats and fun times later.
X
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mushroom--soda · 3 days ago
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Okay, I need to talk about it. The concert just ended and it was so cool. We came a little late, and I swear to God we went to get our phones checked and will wood was literally right there. Like he said hi to me. I think I was so starstruck that I went stupid. I just didn't say anything to him, I think.
I feel like an idiot. One of my biggest influences was in front of me, and I was too chronically shy to ask for a handshake or anything. I hope he knows how much his work means to me. I was just too overwhelmed by the sight.
They say don't meet your heroes, but that was everything I hoped it'd be. Thank you will wood for looking at me, I guess. It meant a lot. I never thought I'd actually get to see him before he annonced this tour, but I hope there's a next time.
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greatwyrmgold · 3 days ago
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And if OnK was supposed to be a tragedy, it messed that up too.
Generally speaking, the thing that makes a good tragedy cathartic and not just a big bummer is a sense that this was somehow inevitable. The relationship between Ai and Kamiki is effectively tragic. We want to see the two of them come together, for Kamiki's fear that he's unlovable and Ai's fear that she's incapable of love (and Kamiki feeling like a monster and Ai fearing nobody could love the true her and—) to evaporate under the passion of their mutual love. But those fears and traumas are exactly what ensures their love can'can't triumph, that their relationship falls apart.
And if Oshi no Ko wanted to do that with Aqua, there's a pretty obvious route to go down. Aqua has a tragic flaw that works perfectly with the rest of the story.
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Aqua's self-image issues aren't exactly like his mother's, but they aren't entirely different either. Aquamarine Hoshino does not value his own life; he feels overwhelming guilt for not being able to save Ai. And he channels that guilt into the quest for vengeance which occupies nearly the entire manga.
And yeah, there are signs in every arc that Aqua will ultimately be saved from his tragic flaw. He conceptualizes that guilt as something not quite himself, as seen in those panels from chapter 50. Everyone in his life offers him support, reminding Aqua that he has value outside that quest to redeem himself. Hell, he almost convinced himself into accepting a shoddy guess about Ai's killer so he could try to be happy.
But if Aqua had self-destructed in pursuit of that pointless revenge, it would have been a natural conclusion to his arc. Tragic, but fitting.
Shame he didn't actually do that!
No, instead Akasaka invented some less obviously quixotic reason for Aqua to murder-suicide Kamiki out of nowhere. It's not a tragic conclusion to Aqua's character arc, a culmination of all his worst flaws, of his guilt and self-loathing and obsession, he's over that.
No, Kamiki is a danger to Ruby now because he's evil, despite all earlier signs that there was at least a little nuance to his character. He's evil, you can't stop him without murder. But Ruby's brother killing his father would ruin her career, and for some reason the reverse isn't true, so Aqua has to kill himself as well as Kamiki.
Aqua's guilt was built up for 150 chapters. This was dropped on us at the last minute. They didn't finish explaining why it had to happen before Aqua stabbed himself.
I have no idea what Akasaka was trying to do here, but it wasn't tragedy.
Been seeing quite a few takes that Aqua's death makes this story "a tragedy like its always been" but the thing is. Oshi No Ko, excluding the final four chapters is not a tragedy. Almost every single arc has an optimistic ending, a silver lining through the clouds that plague the events that occur.
Ai dies but she fulfils one of her greatest desires as she does, she says "i love you" to her kids and is fulfilled when she knows that it is not a lie even though she dies, Ai still realises one of her dreams, arguably her greatest one. Sweet Today could have been a terrible drama leaving Kana, Yoriko and the fans of that manga in universe disappointed that it turned out so badly but through Aqua and Kana's efforts they manage to make the final episode a good one, bringing the best scene to life and satisfying everyone.
Love Now could have ended in tragedy with Akane, if not dead, having a ruined career but by the entire cast coming together, they manage to repair her reputation, giving her career back to her. Tokyo Blade would have been cancelled outright, leaving both author and scriptwriter hurt and disappointed (and referring to the events of the play Kana and Akane without closure and Kana continuing to diminish herself in her acting) but Aqua manages to jumpstart events that make the play better along with the efforts of the actors to make the play a good one.
Scandal could have ended with Kana going the same route as Ai or having her career destroyed but thats prevented by Aqua and even though the twins relationship was broken, Kana and Aqua do still come out of it with a saved career and stronger friendship. Even Private Arc with Ruby going black hoshigan mode still had the silver lining of Aqua getting a break for once (even the looming hammer of Hikaru Kamiki in the background). Only Mainstay arc really has an all around bad ending, with both the twins in revenge mode and Aqua and Akane with a terrible breakup but thats because it leads into Scandal and is set up for the Movie arc (we all saw how that went but this post isn't for that) so it's excused.
If I wave away the numerous and heavy complaints surrounding the Movie arc for a second, I can say that Ruby deciding to step out of her mother's shadow and move to the future deciding to be her own person and an idol in her own merit is a silver lining through that arc along with the RBKN conflict being uh. resolved (i have many issues with that part but again not the post for it. in theory this is silver lining though.). And subsequently Kana gathering the courage to resolve her feelings for Aqua (oshi no jokering rn). Even Aqua himself is filled with hope for the future as of 157.
Oshi no Ko was ultimately a story of moving forward and giving hope to the people around you, which is why this ending is so incredibly jarring. Aqua dying is inconsistent with every theme of hope and future that OnK puts forward along with desecrating the final wish of Ai herself.
This story wasn't a tragedy but Aqua's death is. There's no other way to read it, it is very much a horrific, senseless and preventable tragedy. He receives no fulfilment for any of his dreams, dies believing his only purpose was to be his sisters guard dog as his only divine duty and theres basically no respite, no silver lining for him (and possibly anyone else in the next two chapters).
Aqua's death makes this story a tragedy when it previously was not one and sends terrible messages as it does so which is why this is so shocking and jarring for everyone.
This story was not a tragedy, but now there isn't anything else you can call it.
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hywonuka · 23 hours ago
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and i’ve been meaning to tell you | hjs
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Sypnosis: Joshua and you have been best friends for ages, until one day your dynamic with him changed into something deeper. He has asked you out the day of your birthday, but will you be able to confess to him how you really feel?
Pairing: joshua x fem!reader
Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff
Word count: 904
Warnings: none :3
A/N: happy bday to the sweetest and best joshua biased!!! ily so much, and you have become one of my closest friends, someone i dont want to be apart never in my life. tysm for always being there for me and being the best friend i could ever ask for :( ily the mingyu to my wonu <3 hope u enjoy this little present hehe
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11th November. Finally, it was your birthday, your special day, even if you really weren’t looking forward to it, your best friend was. He promised you he would take you out, and make it the best day of your life. You didn’t believe him, but there was no harm in trying. After all, you had a huge crush on him, and that made you feel like he was asking you out on a date, which made you feel butterflies in your stomach.
You could tell exactly the moment in which you felt for Joshua. It was an spring afternoon, a day in which you needed to be completely alone. Daily life responsibilities had overwhelmed you that day, and you just needed time alone. Or at least that’s what you thought.
You were sitting at a local park, just seeing life passing by, when a tall figure approached you, sitting next to you. You looked at the man next to you, ready to start a fight. The last thing you needed that day was a random guy trying to flirt with you. For your surprise, it was your best friend, Joshua, the one sitting next to you. He was carrying a bag with something inside it, but you couldn’t tell what it was.
“I’ve been looking for you for hours” Joshua said, smiling.
“Why?”
“Y/N, you disappeared without saying a thing, I was really worried. And I know something has happened, I know you pretty well by now. Here, I bought you a little something” He said, handing you the bag.
As you took it and saw he bought you some chocolate cookies. You couldn’t tell in which shop he bought them, but when you tasted them you could tell those were the best cookies you ever ate.
“Do you like them?” Joshua asked, with a smile on his face, which turned bigger when you nodded. “I knew it. Well… do you wanna talk about your day?
You finished eating your cookie before replying to him. They were too good just to stop eating them. “Not really, if I’m being honest… I didn’t even want to run into anyone, how did you find me?
“Let’s say I have some sort of superpower that tells me where you are when you need me” Joshua said playfully, while he looked at you, endeared. “Here, lean on me. I’m here for you, it’s time for you to rest.
And, with that, you felt your head leaning on his shoulder, and something else. Back at the time, you had no idea of what to call it, but nowadays you know what it was. You fell for Joshua in that exact moment, and you couldn’t stop falling for him as the days passed by.
After a beautiful dinner at one of your favourite Italian restaurants, Joshua was driving you back home. Music on the radio was playing, and Joshua was singing to it. You couldn’t help but stare at him, endeared by the sight of him and his voice.
“Did you enjoy your birthday?” Joshua suddenly asked, parking in front of your apartment building.
“Yeah, thanks… If it wasn’t because of you, this would have been another boring day”
“Y/N, don’t flatter me like that” Joshua said, smiling.
You both stared at each other. For some reason, today felt… different. You didn’t know why, but you felt more connected to Joshua than ever, and the way he was looking at you, made you shiver. Something deep down told you it was the moment, the moment to tell him how you actually felt. You couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore, especially not after what looked just like a date.
“Joshua, I…” You started talking, just to be interrupted by him, who brought one of his fingers to your lips. “Wait, I love this song”
Really? Did he shut you down thanks to Seven by Taylor Swift? What sort of mean joke was that?!
“Before you speak up, I have something for you” He said, taking a bag from the back seat, that you didn’t notice before. “I hope you like them!”
You opened the bag, a bit confused, just to find inside the bag those cookies he bought you months ago. You opened your eyes widely, and took a bite of them. God, they tasted just as you remembered.
“You like them?” He asked, and seemed a bit… nervous?
“I love them, Shua. I always wondered where you bought them”
“I made them myself”
“Just for me?”
“Just for you”
The silence in the car was heavy, only interrupted by Taylor’s voice, and heavy breathings from both of you.
“I love you” Both of you said at the same time, blushing as teenagers experiencing their first reciprocated love. The silence was heavy, and you noticed Joshua staring at your lips, unashamed. “I want, no, I need to kiss you”
“Then do it” Your moment of boldness surprised you, but it was more surprising to you when you saw Joshua leaning to you, covering your lips with his.
He was sweet at the beginning, taking his time to kiss you, until his tongue entered your mouth, heatening up the moment, as he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours. He was kissing you as if his life depended on that kiss.
“Happy birthday, Y/N” Joshua whispered, as he rested his forehead against yours.
“Thanks, Shua…”
“I love you”
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taglist: @joshug <3
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cre8inghavoc · 19 hours ago
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Can't help it...
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Part 8
inumaki x f!reader
pairing: inumaki x f!reader
summary: Transferring to a new school is tough, but having your three best friends there makes it easier. Things get even more interesting when you start falling for the mysterious boy who rides his motorcycle to school every day. What will happen next?
genre/warnings: [18+] Characters are aged up. Story contains cursing, new friends, alcohol, college!au, no curse!au, dark humour, SMAU and written parts, fluff, smut.
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"Actually, you know what Inumaki. I don't care. Do whatever you want I couldn't care less to be honest. So please just leave."
Lies. You don't even know what possessed you to say those things... You did care... in fact you cared way more than you liked. You just didn’t want to believe him. So you turned around and pushed against his chest, trying to create space between you.
“I said, leave,” you muttered, your voice shaky.
But Inumaki barely moved. Instead, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him. His grip was firm but not rough, the intensity in his gaze making your breath catch. “You think I’m going to just walk away when you won’t even hear me out?” His voice was deeper now, tinged with something darker, something possessive.
“Stop it,” you demanded, trying to yank your wrist free, but his hold tightened just slightly.
He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “You’re mad because you care a little too much, don’t you?”
Your heart raced as he got closer, his body pressing into yours, leaving you no room to escape. His voice was low, teasing, dripping with confidence. “You don’t like it, do you? Seeing someone else close to me. You hate it.”
Your breath hitched, your chest tightening as you tried to pull away, but his grip stayed firm. His free hand came up to brace against the wall beside your head, trapping you completely. “Stop pretending.”
Your mind spun, the closeness overwhelming, the heat radiating between you two making it impossible to think clearly. “Toge... stop,” you muttered, but your voice was weak, flustered.
A slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face, and his eyes flickered with something possessive, something more than just frustration. “No. i'm not letting you go just yet.”
You tried to pull back again, but he stepped forward, his body pressing you against the wall. His voice dropped even lower, almost a growl. “You’re mine, Y/N. And I’m not letting anyone get in the way of that.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. The anger, the hurt—they were still there, but they were being drowned out by the intensity of his presence, the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
“You’re lying to yourself,” he whispered, his lips barely brushing your ear, teasing you with the closeness. “You're jealous, aren't you? You think I didn’t notice?”
“Stop,” you muttered, your voice shaky as you turned your face away from him.
“You want me to stop?” he murmured, his voice dripping with teasing dominance. “But you haven’t told me to let go. Why’s that, y/n?”
You swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. You were flustered, your mind racing with conflicting emotions, but you couldn’t ignore the way he had you pinned, his body pressed so close to yours that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.
“I don’t care,” you whispered, though even you could hear how weak the lie sounded.
Inumaki smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Liar. You care. You wouldn’t be this upset if you didn’t.”
“Admit it. You don’t want anyone else touching me. You want me all to yourself.”
His words wrapped around you, teasing and confident, and you felt your resolve slipping. You couldn’t deny it anymore—the jealousy, the frustration, the way you cared more than you wanted to admit. And he knew it.
“I’m not letting anyone else have me. Not Alyssa, not anyone. Only you.”
"And you're mine y/n."
His hand cupped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and no matter how hard you tried to look away, you couldn’t. The intensity in his eyes, the way his words seemed to wrap around you, made it impossible to think straight.
“Toge...,”
“Don’t,” he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your jaw. “Don’t say you don’t care. Don’t lie to me.”
"Admit it...”
You clenched your fists, your mind spinning. “No,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You’re wrong.”
Inumaki’s smirk deepened, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. “Am I?” His hand began to move, sliding down from your face to your shoulder, and then slowly, teasingly, down your side.
Your heart raced as his hand slipped lower, grazing your waist.
“I don’t... I don’t want this...”
Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. And he knew damn well you were lying.
Inumaki leaned back staring into your eyes, only inches away from your face. “You’re still lying to yourself, y/n.”
Inumaki’s gaze softened as he leaned in, his face just inches from yours, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Your heart raced, your mind growing hazy with each passing second. His eyes held you captive, intense and unwavering, and you felt every ounce of anger and frustration you’d been holding onto start to slip away.
Your breath hitched as you waited, anticipation filling the air between you. But just as you thought he might close the distance, his lips so close they nearly brushed yours, he paused. His eyes flashed with that familiar, teasing glint, and then, just like that, he pulled back, leaving you reeling from the unfulfilled closeness.
He stepped away, smirking in that infuriating way that made your heart race and your cheeks burn. Turning, he walked toward the window, his confidence radiating with each step. He threw a look over his shoulder, his expression knowing.
“Gotta wake up early for school tomorrow, yeah?” he said, his tone playful. “See you then.”
Without waiting for a response, he climbed out the window and left. You stood there, frozen, your heart still pounding as you heard the low rumble of his bike starting up. Moments later, he sped away, the sound fading into the distance, leaving you alone in the silence.
You released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He’d left you there, heart racing, the unspoken words still caught in your throat. Frustration bubbled up inside you, a mix of anger and longing as you stared at the empty space where he’d been.
You shake your head as a bitter laugh escapes your lips.
"You little bitch."
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@madaqueue @mikko-mikko @arabella0001 @swarachxle @s3ns4ti0n4l @jdgfsgdgdvf @tomikixd @arabella0001 @emotionalasf @unofficialsapphire @miowxh
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ladylokianna · 23 hours ago
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Some quiet moments
Partially based on my own prompt here and written after this post i casually read today. Hope you enjoy a fluffier and softer Aemond (though i love smut Aemond, i'm totally uncapable of writing something smut).
Warnings: no warnings, just pure fluff.
Pairing: i don't like to write Y/N, so is an Aemond x reader (a nameless wife)
English is not my first language and i am constantly trying to improve, so i apologise for any mistakes.
Also not so good to give a good title, sorry XD
***
You are so busy braiding the flowers the girls brought to you now and then that you did not notice Aemond until the very last moment, when you feel him placing something warm on you –his coat, you noticed shortly afterwards– and his hands carefully place it on your shoulders, lifting the collar to protect your neck, taking care not to crease the flower garland that Jaehaera or one of your daughters had carefully arranged on your hair, loosely braided.
"I knew i'd find you here." Aemond greets you in his usual calm voice, sitting by your side. "You might catch cold, love, summer is still far away."
"Hi darling. I was starting to get a bit chilly, actually, but when the girls and i went out, the sun was still bright and i didn't think about wearing something warmer." you answer with a big smile, interrupting what you were doing to take and hold his hand. "And what about you? I can see you're tired."
He told you about his day, spent travelling around the realm between meetings and state matters.
"Then you should reach the Council, they must be waiting for you." you reason.
"They can wait." he reply, encircling your shoulders with his arm and holding you close to him. In your lap, under the flowers you are weaving, Aemond noticed one of his books. "How was your day?"
"It was less interesting than yours, i'm afraid. As always i tried with little success to read something in valyrian, i had lunch with Alicent and spent some time embroidering with Helaena and... just an hour ago, i was crowned queen of the garden." you say cheerfully. You then point to the blue flowers you carry in the lap. "However, i advise you to be careful, because the girls are looking for your favourite flowers with all the intentions of crowning you too."
"That's a risk i'm willing to take, if i can have you alone for a few minutes without having to share you with someone else." he chuckles, surrounding you in a tight hug and leaving many small kisses on your temple.
Feeling him so relaxed and calm during the day is a rare thing, accustomed as he is to always being on guard, always on the alert, ready to detect the slightest sign of danger to react accordingly. Suddenly you both heard the girls' laughter grow closer, a sign that they are returning from their search.
"...i was thinking that i would love to have another baby."
"You want to fill the Red Keep with children?" you ask, amused.
"Why not? After all, our son and i are blatantly outnumbered, and if we are not careful enough, we will certainly end up being overwhelmed by you girls."
You rub his leg affectionately, leaning the head back to get a better look at him.
"I will think about it." you reply. "But who knows, if tonight and... let's say maybe those to come, you would decide to read me something in valyrian, i might... you know... think better about it."
"Wait... is all what it takes? Some reading in high valyrian?"
"Maybe."
"Good enough for me, we have a deal."
You giggle, before he kiss you tenderly.
"I said maybe, Aem."
"You cannot recant now, a deal is a deal."
Jaehaera and her three little cousins, their arms laden with flowers, stood at some distance from the bench giggling between themselves at seeing you two embracing, until your middle daughter run towards you, eager to give her dad something she had picked up in the gardens.
"Can i bring it to Vhagar?" she asked, showing to Aemond a huge yellow flower.
"Vhagar is resting now, my love. We will bring it to her tomorrow. Keep it safe, will you?" promise Aemond. He look up, smiling lovingly at the other two daughters and Jaehaera as well. "Hello, my loves."
The youngest search her father's attention by placing both of her little hands on his face, trying to greet him in valyrian and giggling when Aemond, with a cheeky grin, pretend to nibble on her fingers.
"This one is for you instead." Jaehaera smiles at her uncle, taking the garland you had finished weaving.
She ask him to lean against the back of the bench, but Aemond, with a theatrical gesture, knelt before her, bowing the head as if during a real coronation, before she puts the garland on his head and untying the string that keep his hair neatly tied back, then began braiding it and showing your younger daughter how to do it properly.
If Criston Cole, sent by Aegon to find Aemond, is astonished to faced with that scene, he did not show it, but he take a few long moments to call him, perhaps undecided whether to interrupt that idyll or not.
"I really have to go now." sighs Aemond in a very low voice. "See you later."
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 day ago
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How did Eri!Reader and the Strawhats(and any other pirate crew) celebrate Halloween?
-The Straw Hats went to an island for Halloween, one that was known for its amazing Halloween party, full of tasty food, treats, and fun for all ages!
-Usopp was the one who taught you about Halloween, as he walked around with you and Ace during daylight hours while the party was being set up, telling you how you got to dress up and go and get candy and treats from others!
-Your elation and excitement quickly had the rest of your family excited as well, as they wanted to see your happy face, but your only dilemma was- what were you going to be?
-The costume shop was almost overwhelming, seeing all the different costumes and your family, who all met up with you, were at the shop as well, looking for their own costumes but they kept coming to you, showing you costumes they had found for you- overwhelming you with choices.
-The shopkeeper could see this, seeing you were actually getting upset as you were having issues choosing, and she was nice, coming over and kneeling down next to you, talking to you about what treats you were excited to try, getting your mind off picking a costume, helping you calm down and only then did your family realize what had be happening.
-You liked this nice lady, she helped you feel better, and she felt safe, like she was someone you could trust, “What are you going to be?” she was surprised by your question, beaming brightly, “I’m going to be a witch!”
-You looked a little shy, not wanting to upset your family who had been helping you, “Can I… can I be a witch too?” the shopkeeper was flattered by your choice, making her smile as your family was quick to agree, loving the idea of you being a witch.
-A few hours later you were ready to go out in your adorable witch costume, after Robin and Nami took a bunch of pictures, unable to handle your cuteness before you headed out with your family.
-Robin was a vampire, Zoro was a zombie, Luffy was a ghost with a pumpkin on his head, Ace was a devil, Usopp was a mad scientist while Franky was something called Frankenstein’s Monster, Nami was a maid, Sanji dressed up like a werewolf, Chopper was a lion, Brook dressed up in a fancy suit, as this was his perfect holiday, and Jinbei dressed up like a marine.
-You cheered for Brook who entered and won the costume contest, as many loved his realistic skeleton costume, until he turned slowly on them, making himself look scary, “This isn’t a costume!” which made many run screaming while others laughed, having fun.
-Your family did their best to keep you in the kid friendly area, as there were scarier parts of the island, meant for adults who could handle being scared, as they didn’t want you to get too scared.
-You loved getting all the treats, it was easier getting them at the party as your family would give them to you, while trick or treating was a bit more difficult for you to understand, you would go to people’s houses, say trick or treat and they would give you candy- you were too adorable for your own good but many thought you were endearing since this was your first time going out for Halloween.
-By the time you were back on the ship, you were knocked out from a sugar rush, something Robin and Sanji thought was cute because it’s not everyday they will let you eat as many sweets as you wanted.
-You couldn’t wait to come back for next Halloween!
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