#they sound so young and naive here its so

[secriden]

THK Episode 1 thoughts in no particular order or level of coherency:

I didn't see Fadel as Lawful Good coming, but at the same time it makes perfect sense now that I've seen the episode

Somehow, I now kinda ship First with both Joong and Dunk and I cannot explain it even to myself but damn.

Khaotung's ability to not just sound and act but nearly exude the presence of a naive innocent young man, head still in the clouds and dreaming of true love, is Truly Impressive. I actually believe, not only that he's younger than Fadel, but that he genuinely lacks the emotional maturity too even process the risk that Fadel sees.

I now appreciate so much what people said about First's almost understated detailed acting because those rapid shifts in his expressions said so much in tiny increments of time, I'm blown away.

Dunk is so pretty, Dunk is so pretty, DUNK IS SO FUCKING PRETTY!?!?!

But also please I adore everything Dunk did as Style he gave absolutely everything for that character and held nothing back. The way he just... went for it?? In all the scenes, every single one? I'm trying not to be too spoiler-y but damn, I get it when First said that Dunk really embodied Style because he really really DID!!!

That ending was genius my brain immediately lit up with all the ways this could go and I'm SO EXCITED

The way the sex wasn't even remotely the most insanity-inducing thing in this episode really goes to show how well this was made but also ITS HILARIOUS

Having said that, damn it was hot!!

Joong's eyebrows eyebrowing so hard <3

I don't think JoongDunk were meant to have sexual tension at all in this episode but they still felt very sexy to me. Maybe its just me, but it felt like tension even when Fadel is mostly just pissed off there's that... okay, you know how the opposite of love is not hate, but apathy? Guess what, zero apathy right here!!

I'm genuinely so happy with what we got though. It really is as light and silly and camp and gorgeous as they promised and I'm so so grateful for that. There's potential for devastation (I see you, Kant, hiding backstory hints inside your soft serve!), but also how lucky are we to get silly romantic shenanigans with the murder brother duo and their (future) flirty boyfriends???

Also the music!? Can we talk about THE MUSIC?? it was so... idk, like it was almost its own character in this episode. It was like audience direction with how much it would abruptly change the tone of the scene. I wonder if this will continue throughout the show or if they're doing it because it's the first episode and they're really really laying those comedy foundations down, but its fascinating.

I can't believe we get "Good Morning, krub" and "love at first sight" in the same episode omg ;A; <3

Style should've learned from the expert:

[ackreik]

as promised, here's the first lot of queen audio interviews!

i will eventually get around to uploading more interviews and just surprise you guys one day by posting them lmao, but enjoy these!

i'm glad to be sharing these to the world so people can listen, as i know we're all so DESPERATE for new-old content of the lads so this was a great find!

[alottiegoingon]

hc! married life

lucy maclean x fem!reader

summary: meeting lucy + being married to her

warnings: lucy is a dork, established relationship, its 2296-2300ish, it takes place after fallout finale and things get better after it, nothing but fluff and a married couple doing cute shit, no nsfw but mentions of it, quick cannibalism mentions (uh…), wasteland and life outside the vault brief mentions, reader wasn't born in the vault, not proofread, silly plot

when you first met lucy, you found her in the old antique store. you were talking to the not so nice lady that owned the place when you saw her step inside with an inquisitive gaze, observing a bunch of what it looked like junk to you. it was almost hilarious seeing a young woman wearing that goofy ass blue and yellow jumpsuit.

you were leaning against the wall in the corner, listening to all of her chattering about vault-tec. it sounded like nothing but utterly tedious

"it would be safe to assume that you do business with criminals. not judging you. don’t imagine there’s that many other options up here." blissfully unaware of the death stare coming from that lady, she boldly muttered and it immediately made you step out of the corner you were hiding in to save her

"she doesn't mean that! she's new here, sorry." you jump in, forced to intervene, touching lucy's shoulder and giving them a light squeeze. she furrowed her brows in response with your disapproving glance. “wha- who are you? i was just talking about the equipments!”

pulling her away from the place, you hear the hoarse voice behind you saying "fucking vault dweellers."

it didn't take longer than a day for you two to be friends. sharing stupid stories from her vault, fun facts, and learning about each other's life and family was one of the things that you bonded over

while you two were outside once, walking together by the wrecked lanes of what los angeles used to be, and lucy began to talk about her life in the vault and you were more than impressed and in disbelief of how naive vault dweellers could be

"wait, what do you mean?" your face twists at the second you heard lucy saying that the guy she married was an outsider that was responsible for killing half of her vault. "how can you married someone you've never met?"

"well, you see, when you marry someone from another vault, usually it comes with benefits! we gave them seeds and parts for machinery and they offered us a breeder!" lucy explains it all like the good teacher she is, assertively nodding with shoulders back

you forced yourself to repress a laugh by looking the other way, and she immediately noticed and questioned you incredulously but you knew her too well already to notice that she wasn't mad. "what is it?!"

"you people marry strangers for seeds and to have kids? that sounds... miserable. what if they are awful people or outsiders like that guy?"

"okay, when you say it like that..." she loses her shoulders, brushing her confidence away, gulping and chuckling awkwardly. "but you are an outsider. and you aren't that bad."

"careful there. it makes you sound like you are very found of the outsider here, lucy maclean." you stare back at her and see a tender smirk peeking onto her lips. her body slightly leaning against yours, and a soft gaze that swiftly averted when you caught her. she didn't deny it though, you thought

it took her one kiss to invite you to live with her after your mission was done and you gladly accepted.

the invitation was up even after all the truth about her dad. after all the traumatic experience, on the way to your new home, you never left her alone not even for a second. you were always holding hands, sharing glances, leaning against each other and making her giggle as you were losing the track of how many times you kissed her face

in the vault, after everything was settled, you had all the time in the world to take care of her and learn about each other. you would spend hours running your fingers through her hair, listening to whatever she said and playing with her fingers while holding her hand. you would let her talk about all the memories with her family and carefully laugh along or comfort her when needed

you knew that you couldn't erase her bad memories from what had happened but you could create new ones and you focused on that

it was about time when she proposed to you, stuttering, crying and using a bunch of silly expressions like "holy moly" or "jeepers creepers"??!

don't get me started on the honeymoon. yes, you were living in a giant metal capsule but you could swear that as soon as you left the room after days, you were able to breathe fresh air.

lucy wasn’t exactly the easiest person to appease. especially not after finally seeing through the entire “breed” thing that everyone in the vault worshipped so much and experiencing what actually love could be. turns out that sex isn’t something people do just to have kids and “recolonize” the earth, after all

strongly believe that she would be such a loud and whiny girl when you touch her. even the slightest graze would make her legs tremble and she would go like 🥺

"wanna cook together?" "wanna go gardening?" "wanna watch a movie?" "hi, princess, wanna read something together?" "teach me your repair skills?" and her answer would always be "okey dokey" and a huge smile

your favorite part about gardening was to plant food and use it for dinner as you cooked together. and by that, it meant that you would cook while she was happily seating following you around with a cooking book giving you orders like a princess

in other times, you were proud to distract her on purpose by hugging her waist from behind, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. reasonable to assume that the entire room would smell like smoke as she cried at the sight of you on her knees and between her legs, eating her out

when it came to help around the vault, you were a great teacher along with your wife, making sure that all the facts were correct but in a less traumatizing way in order to not scare all the kids with “yeah, so basically all my family got killed by explosions but, hey, i’m here now!”

after a long day, watching movies was your favorite thing to do. one night, when discussing all the different genres of movies that lucy had never seen, you mentioned a specific one

“you know, my grandma used to tell me about this really weird show from the 2020’s where some creepy teenage girls ate each other after crashing into the wilderness.” and lucy’s face goes pale, looking like 😦

“golly gee�� i hate it up there.”

[killerlookz]

No Going Back | Joost Klein

this is *technically* a prequel to this fic (heartbeat) but should be read after!!!!! as the "lore" is explained in that fic.

description: joost klein x f! reader- after getting into a new relationship, you had decided it was high time to cut off your ex-with-benefits, joost, but an encounter at a mutual friend's birthday party leaves you wondering if it's going to be easier said than done.

content: 18+ explicit smut, MDNI, RPF dry humping, unprotected PiV/creampie, slight overstim(?), cheating, toxic relationships, angst, some fluff, hurt/comfort... probably like way too much comfort, smoking/alcohol, drug ment. but as a metaphor.

THIS WORK CONTAINS RPF, AND HAS BEEN TAGGED APPROPRIATELY. PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE IF THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, BLOCK ME, AND BLOCK THE RPF TAG-

DO NOT SHARE MY WORK EITHER IN ITS ENTIRETY OR AS SCREENSHOTS ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIAS,AGAIN I URGE YOU TO BLOCK ME AND THE RPF TAG INSTEAD OF EXPOSING THIS WORK TO A LARGER AUDIENCE THAT DID NOT ASK TO SEE IT.

THIS FIC IS ALSO SOLELY TAGGED IN THE X READER TAG, MEANING IF YOU'RE HERE YOU SEARCHED FOR IT... PLEASE CONSUME MEDIA RESPONSIBLY. (keep this in mind if you decide not to heed my warnings and continue reading or complain about it elsewhere)

word count: 10,728

fic soundtrack: Watercolor Eyes- Lana Del Rey, Blood on My Hands- The Sundays, Show Me the Real You- Moodring

"Now I find that I'm thigh deep, too young for the worst of my mind. You whisper behind me, "If I may make so bold". Call it young and wild, but I ran a mile in a minute... and there's no going back"

You should stop staring.

You're sure by now it's obvious, you're sure by now Joost can feel your eyes burning to him from where you sit directly across from him. The conversations around you are little distraction from your watchful gaze. Not even the feeling of your boyfriend, Michael's hand moving to rest on your thigh can pull you out of your trance.

Joost laughs at a joke Apson tells, one that you hadn't bothered to pay attention too. Instead your focus is fixated on the way Joost's face lights up at as his head tilts back slightly, amused by his friend's sense of humor. The dimples in his cheeks now prominent as his mouth opens, lips curling up into a wide grin. All the noise that surrounds you in the crowded restaurant is dampened by the sound of his laughter, a sweet music to your ears.

Joost's eyes meeting yours as his laughter subsides is finally enough to rip you from your stares. With a few quick blinks you're somewhat back to reality, tunnel vision disappearing. You pull your lips into a tight smile, unsure of if you should be embarrassed by your actions. Though embarrassment is hardly on your mind as Joost smiles back at you, which was more than you could hope for given the situation at hand.

It was probably naive of you to assume that getting into a new relationship would make things less complicated between you and Joost. But in your head, initially, it made perfect sense, a new relationship meant you could push your feelings into something different, perhaps finally get over what was supposed to be your ex-boyfriend.

But seeing Joost now, for the first time since you and Michael had started going out, you realize things aren't going to be so easy, that Joost, and the relationship that the two of you had wasn't something that you could just "get over". Especially not when instead of trying to move on after the breakup, the two of you would remain intimate. While intimacy now lacked the romance of your past relationship, your feelings lingered, unable to separate the Joost in front of you now from the Joost who was once your boyfriend.

A quick glance down at your lap leads you to finally notice Michael's hand on your thigh, the reminder that he in fact was the one here who was your boyfriend making your stomach sink. The uncomfortableness of the night was becoming too much to bare. Damn Julie for wanting to meet your new boyfriend on today of all days, and damn yourself for not being able to say no to your best friend on her birthday.

"So," You hear Julie start, looking toward you and Michael, "Michael, y/n tells me you're not from here, have you been in there Netherlands long?"

Michael furrows his eyebrows, you guess he's attempting to count the months since he left the states,

"Almost 8 months." He replies, his voice is flat, uninterested.

"That's nice," Julie smiles, "Do you plan on staying here for awhile?"

"Depends," He shrugs, his hand falling from your lap, a small wave of relief rushing over you. "I go wherever the money takes me. And right not the money is here."

"Well I guess that's not bad advice to live your life by," Julie nods, but she seems unsure of herself, Michael had that affect on people, making people question whether or not you were saying the right thing. You knew that well.

"It's the only advice to live your life by."

"Nah, nah, man," Joost shakes his head, "There's more to life than money. Where's the passion?"

You bite the inside of your cheeks, eyes flicking toward Michael. Michael chuckles, though, just like in everything else, there's a clear condescension in the way he laughs, making it more-so of a scoff.

"Don't be ridiculous," His dry, faux laughter continues, perhaps a little too long, "You're young, you'll find out soon enough. You don't really think you're going to be doing the music thing forever, do you? "

"Michael!" You place a firm hand down on the table, the silverware clattering slightly from the vibration of your hand.

"No, it's okay," Joost laughs uncomfortably. "Appreciate the honesty, Michael." An apparent bitterness in his voice, "But can't say I'll take your advice."

"Eh," Michael shrugs, "You say that now-"

"Alright!" Apson exclaims from beside Joost, clapping his hands together once, commanding the table's attention, "How about dessert?"

The tension is briefly lifted from the table as everyone looks at each other, nodding contently in agreement that it was, indeed, time for dessert.

You're nursing your second espresso martini while the table finishes up their dessert, combined with the glass-and-a-half of wine you had with dinner, you're certainly feeling, less tense.

You listen less than intently as Julie talks about a recent promotion that she got at work. Not that you're not proud enough of your friend to care, but you're not fully there. You inch your leg forward slightly, nudging your ankle against Joost's leg. You pretend not to notice as his gaze flicks towards you, instead you train your eyes on the plate on the table in front of you, moving around what remains of the food with your fork.

Julie is still explaining her new position as you bring your leg up higher, the top of your foot sliding up the fabric of Joost's pants until you reach his knee.

He's staring at you now, just as you had been staring at him before, you can feel it. Still attempting to keep an air of nonchalant you turn to try to focus on Julie's speech. At the same time you move forward slightly in your seat, extending your leg fully under the table, you press the ball of your foot to the inside of Joost's thigh.

You notice in your peripheral how his posture straightens as he sucks in a breath. You smile slightly, a light puff of air leaving your nostrils at his stifled reaction to your teasing.

Truthfully you weren't quite sure what you were doing, you full well had made plans to stay the night with Michael tonight. After all, your apartment was much farther away than his from the restaurant Julie had chosen for her birthday dinner, it was just much easier to stay with Michael and catch a train back home tomorrow during the daytime rather than traveling by yourself at night.

Despite your other plans, you press the point of your shoe a little higher up on Joost's thigh now, continuing to tease him. You have no real end goal in mind, and you really should be consumed with guilt at even thinking of touching a man other than Michael like this, but the alcohol has mellowed your inhibitions, and there's a certain thrill in doing something that you know you shouldn't be.

You feel Joost's hand against your leg, his fingers wrapping around your ankle, thumb gently caressing your skin. You fight back a smirk, after over a month of not seeing Joost you were ready to melt under his simple touch. His fingers tighten, then loosen around you again, and he continuously repeats the pattern, gently massaging you.

You're dangerously close to poking Joost's crotch with the tip of your shoe when Michael throws an arm around you, unexpectedly. You're startled, kicking forward slightly, forcing Joost's hand from your ankle. Joost presses a fist to his mouth, clearing his throat before pushing his seat back, causing your heel to fall to the ground.

"I need a cigarette," He mumbles as he stands up from the table, quickly hurrying away.

His abrupt exit halts the conversation, the table going silent with confusion.

"Um," You start, "I-uh- think I'm gonna have a smoke too." You nod quickly, untangling yourself from Michael's grasp, standing up, shuffling awkwardly from the table.

You quickly find your way outside, the air is brisk, a chill breeze blowing past you immediately making you realize you should have brought a jacket. Joost isn't too far out the door, an unlit cigarette pressed to his lips

"Can I get a cigarette?" Your heels clack loudly against the concrete as you step out onto the sidewalk.

Joost quickly whips his head toward you, ripping the cigarette from his mouth. Joost shakes his head, almost like he's in disbelief,

"What are you doing?" He's genuinely confused, a hint of interrogation in his voice.

You're taken aback by the force at which he asks, a tone he hadn't taken with you in awhile.

"Asking... for a cigarette?" It comes out more like a question, your eyebrows furrowed, words slow in equal confusion.

"No," He shakes his head again, "I mean in there- what was that about?" He raises a hand, vaguely gesturing towards the restaurant, "You have a boyfriend, remember?"

You do remember, unfortunately.

"So, I can't have a cigarette?" You ask slowly, your acute intoxication slipping its way into your words.

"Whatever," He scoffs, holding out his hand to give you the cigarette he was just about to smoke.

"Why are you being so weird?" You giggle, taking the cigarette from him, "Oh," You smile, "Can I get a light?"

"Jesus christ," His annoyance with the way you're playing dumb is apparent, and you know you won't be able to keep up the act forever. You bite the inside of your cheeks as he reaches his hands into his pockets, fumbling around for a lighter. It was naive of you to pretend like Joost wouldn't want to address the obvious elephant in the room.

You place the cigarette between your lips as Joost pulls out the lighter, his hand stretched out to pass it to you. You say nothing, only stick out your jaw slightly, the cigarette flicking upward. You want him to light it for you.

"You're evil," He clenches his jaw, his jaw line sharpening, cheeks hollowing, making the angular bones in his face more apparent. Still, Joost steps forward sightly, flicking the lighter against his thumb. A small orange flame erupts, and Joost lightly passes it to the end of your cigarette, holding the lighter there just long enough for it to light.

You inhale as Joost pulls the lighter back, you bring your hand to your lips, barely holding the cigarette between two fingers. The smoke fills your lungs, invading your senses as the warmth pricks at your throat.

You exhale, "That's not very nice." You frown.

"C'mon," Joost's expression suddenly changes, tilting his head to the side, he seems defeated, "Seriously, what are you doing?"

"I-" You think for a moment, "I don't know." You're equally as defeated now, the threat of having to cut things off with Joost is imminent. And it's what you should be doing, you should be giving Michael your undivided attention, its high time you should be leaving Joost in your past, where you know he belongs.

Your lips tremble as you push the cigarette back to them, the alcohol that once stripped you of your inhibitions suddenly making them so much worse.

"I don't understand you," Joost mutters, "You break up with me, you break my heart, decide you still want to fuck me for a year, then you run off, get a boyfriend, don't talk to me for over a month, and now all a sudden you're touching all over me under the dinner table like I'm the one you're going home with tonight, like you didn't break up with me a year ago."

It does sound bad when he puts it that way, your heart plummeting to your stomach under the heavy weight of guilt. You really fucked up this time.

"Joost-" You're cut off as the cigarette accidentally falls from your shaking hands. Shit. You force your gaze down to the pavement, unable to look at Joost as you crush the barely smoked cigarette under your shoe. "It's not that simple," Your voice is soft, barely returning the same confrontational tone he had given you.

Of course it isn't that simple. Why had he been acting like it was? As if you had broken up with him as a result of love lost between the two of you? As if you had just broken his heart for the fun of it? He of all people should know how hard it was for you to break up with him, what should have been a simple process turning into an hours long affair of you crying in each others arms, lamenting in how much you still loved him, and him desperately apologizing for not having given you everything you deserved.

"And you should know damn well how hard I tried to save our relationship, why else do you think I keep coming back?"

"Obviously you didn't try hard enough, or you wouldn't be here with another guy."

A strained laugh escapes your throat, amused by how absurd Joost is being now,

"No, Joost, you're the one who didn't try." You cross your arms across your chest, realizing just how cold the night air was, goosebumps littering your arms, "That's why we broke up in the first place, remember?" A year later and you still cannot escape the emotions of that night. You can't help but wonder if you'll ever be free from this feeling, or if you even want to be.

Emotions run high, and you can feel the tears brewing behind your eyes, threatening to spill with any sudden movement you make.

You blink once and a singular tear slips from your lash line, slowly caressing the curve of your cheek. Joost's expression suddenly changes, eyes widening, lips parting like he's about to speak.

"Hey, pumpkin," You hear a familiar voice call from behind you, the pet name makes your stomach churn, overwhelming you with such disgust you temporarily forget Joost in front of you. A hand against your back accompanies the voice, finally making you turn to face it.

With a sniffle and a few blinks you push back the emotions, a smile pulling at your lips with a chipper voice to match,

"Michael," You beam, "What's up?"

"I am so sorry honey, but I just remembered I have an early meeting tomorrow," His voice is barely apologetic, and you don't quite understand what he's getting at.

"Oh-uh-okay?" You furrow your eyebrows, unsure of why he's apologizing for having a meeting.

"So I'm going to head out now, I already left some money for the bill, I'll talk to you in the morning, okay?"

"But I thought I was going to come to your-" Michael doesn't let you finish your sentence,

"I know, pumpkin, I'm sorry, I just think it's best you don't stay over tonight." He nods.

"Oh, but it's dark I don't want to-" You're cut off again,

"Don't be ridiculous sweetheart, you'll be okay, see you soon, mkay?" He smiles.

You're hesitant to even speak again, knowing if you say too much he'll probably cut you off again. "Sure," You pull your lips into a tight smile, nodding in an attempt to hide your disappointment. There go your plans for the night. "Right, see you later." You try your best to bare a grin.

"Okay, bye pumpkin," He leans in for a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying off, on his walk away he throws up a hand towards Joost, "Nice to meet you, buddy."

"Yeah, you too." Joost speaks slowly, though you're sure Michael doesn't even hear with the speed at which he walks away. You flick your eyes to Joost for a brief moment before immediately looking away, opting to no longer brave the cold and head straight for the restaurant bathroom.

You rush past the table your friends still sit at in the dimly lit restaurant, making your way to the back of the building. You fling over the bathroom door, a small relief washing over you when you realize it's only a singular stall before you lock the door behind you.

You place your hand above your eyes, pressing tightly as the tears begin to flow, all of your stupid decisions slapping you in the face at once. Unfortunately, your actions have consequences; and here you were, in a restaurant bathroom forced to bear the brunt of all of them now.

You had broken up with Joost to begin with, in part, to stop the arguing between you two. But it seemed like you could never help yourself, desperate to get Joost to see your side of things, a subconscious urge to finally get him to change, to get him to be the perfect boyfriend you had always dreamed him to be. You can only push so much, tonight being a sign that you were reaching the point where you can't push much more without things breaking.

You lift your hands from your eyes, and lean forward against the bathroom counter. Your hands press into the edge of the marble that surrounds the sink as you stretch your body towards the mirror, inspecting your face.

You're stained with the distinct mark of sadness, eyes now red, your face slightly puffy. You huff, allowing yourself, for just a moment to be grateful you had put on waterproof eyeliner tonight, saving yourself from a potentially greater mess on your face.

You watch yourself in the mirror intently, the glass reflecting back to you how truly pathetic you feel now. But you'll have enough time to feel pathetic once you get home, now, tonight, was about Julie, and it would be selfish of you to spend the rest of the night hiding out, smothering yourself in your own despair instead of celebrating your best friend.

You blink away the remaining tears in your eyes and gently press your fingers to your cheeks to rid the droplets from your skin. The fact you had been crying was apparent, but the restaurant was dark, and you hoped that the low mood lighting would be enough to hide that fact.

With a few deep breaths you're ready to unlock the bathroom door. The metal handle is cool under your shaky touch, you turn it, pulling back the door.

You jump back slightly when you realize there's someone standing behind it, the figure startling you, making your whole body jolt.

"Oh," You inhale sharply, recognizing the person behind the door as Joost, "Sorry, were you waiting for the bathroom? I'm gonna head back-" You speak quickly, head down anxious to get out of his way.

"Nee, I-" He grabs your arm lightly, not allowing you to leave the small corridor the bathroom was located in. He's about to say something else- but you look up at him, and his tone changes, "Oh," He sighs, not releasing his grip on your arm, in fact, only using it to bring you closer to him, "Tell me you weren't crying in there."

You assume he finally got to have that cigarette he wanted after he had given the first one to you, the familiar lingering scent of smoke and his cologne overwhelming your senses as he pulls you closer. The smell, a reminder of his proximity, should upset you, knowing you probably won't be able to enjoy it much longer, but your instincts kick in, and it's nothing but comfort.

"Joost," You start, placing your hand over where his grips your arm, ready to peel it off of you, "I'm okay, I really should be getting back to Julie."

"No, really," He tilts his head, "Tell me." You loosen your hand from where it rests on his, suddenly no longer so willing to part with his touch.

"I'm okay." Your voice a whisper now.

Joost stares down at you, and even now, you can't help but stare back at him. His pretty blue eyes are deep with emotion.

"I'm always doing that, hm?" There's a certain disappointment in his voice, as he moves closer to you, pressing his free hand to your cheek, "Making you cry?"

He's not entirely wrong, but you'd hate to admit it, much less admitting it to his face.

"I know you don't mean to," Your voice is soft, apologetic, like you're sorry for even crying in the first place, "Don't worry about it."

"I worry about everything," He chuckles, a poor attempt at lightening the mood, but it earns a small smile from you, and that's really all he can hope for. "But I was um- thinking I'll take you home? Just, you know, take the train with you, and shit."

"Oh-uh-"

"You can say no." He's quick to speak, "But I heard what Michael said, and I don't really like thinking of you going home by yourself so late."

It's thoughtful, even if he did just almost tear your heart out. You think for a moment, though it's not really necessary to, you already have an answer.

"That would be nice," You nod, "I'd like that."

Joost swipes his thumb against your cheek while he nods back to you, his opposite hand moving from its spot on your arm to snake around your back. His touch only solidifies the cycle you had found yourself tangled in for far too long, you upsetting one another to a point you shouldn't be able to return from, only to fall back in each others arms.

You know you should ask Joost to let go, to just accept his offer to take you home and leave it at that, and not let things go any further. But you'd be a liar to say you didn't love the way it felt when he touched you, the way even after all this time the feeling of his skin against yours still gives you butterflies in your stomach.

The two of you stare at each other silently until you let out a small giggle, realizing how weird it was for you to be sharing such a moment right outside the bathroom.

"I think we should probably head back to the table."

By the time you leave dinner you had regained that slight alcoholic buzz that the emotions of before had taken from you, a smile pressed on your lips as you waved your final goodbyes to your friends.

You turn towards the direction you should be heading, "ugh" You groan, realizing the journey ahead of you, it'll be at least another 45 minutes until you get home.

Another brisk wind blows past you, the prospective 45 minutes ahead of you suddenly feeling so much longer once you realize you'll be shivering for most of it.

"Cold?" Joost chuckles, watching you fold your arms across your torso, attempting to provide yourself with some heat.

"A little," You mumble.

"Mmm, I'm sorry," Joost hums, "Here," He begins sliding the black Ed Hardy zip-up he had been wearing off of his shoulders, revealing he had been wearing nothing but a T-shirt under the hoodie.

You hadn't asked for the sweatshirt, though you still feel a little bad taking it from him when he stretches an arm toward you, handing off the bunched up fabric.

"Are you sure?" You ask, glancing between the hoodie in his hands, and him.

"Yeah, you need it more, at least I'm wearing pants." He smiles, seeming happy enough to let you wear his sweatshirt. He had a fair point anyway, with you having chosen to forego any tights under your skirt tonight.

You slip your arms through the thick fabric, its soft inside immediately enveloping you in at least a little warmth. Joost's own body heat still lingers slightly in the material, a feeling you attempt to savor even as it quickly dissipates.

You're grateful for the slight warmth Joost's sweatshirt provides you, but it's still not enough, still shivering by the time you're on the train back home.

"Still cold?" Joost asks, though it's apparent the way you're folded in on yourself, trying to provide yourself with some heat.

You just hum in response, jaw too tight to talk.

"Oh," Joost coos, "Poor baby," He laughs, "Come here." He throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. Him calling you "baby" catches you off guard, though you're sure it's more mocking than it is meant to be romantic. Still, you don't dare to say anything about it.

"You're warm," You sigh as you rest your head on Joost's shoulder, face buried in his neck. His body gives off a good amount of heat, feeling more comfortable as his arms wrap around you.

You shouldn't enjoy this as much as you do, and no matter how cold you are you really shouldn't be doing this at all, not as long as Michael was in the picture. But the gentle smell of Joost's cologne is intoxicating, its familiar comfort enough to enjoy the moment without a care in the world.

You close your eyes and snuggle closer into Joost, wrapping your arms around his torso, allowing yourself to relax entirely in his embrace. You can feel his pulse gently thumping from your position against his neck, and truthfully you'd love nothing more than to press soft kisses to the pumping vein and stain his skin with your lipstick. You hate the way your mind betrays your morality, allowing yourself to get lost in these fantasies that you know are no good for you.

"Don't fall asleep on me here," Joost chuckles, lightly caressing your back.

"No promises," You mumble, feeling the vibrations of your speech against his neck.

Luckily for Joost, you hadn't fallen asleep, not leaving him with the burden of waking you up once you had arrived at your stop and dragging you home half asleep.

Instead, by the time you're unlocking your apartment door, you're wide awake, too overwhelmed with emotions to be anywhere near tired. As you turn the doorknob to enter your apartment you look back toward Joost who's standing behind you, looking a little unsure of himself.

"Do you want to come in?" You smile, "You can stay the night, it's kind of late." As soon as the offer leaves your tongue you know there's no going back now.

"You don't mind?" He asks.

"Of course not." The entrance to your apartment now stands as a door to probable bad decisions, ready to be opened. You push open the door, revealing your darkened living room.

Your hit with a wave of nerves as you step over the threshold and into the apartment, anxious for what the night has in store for you. The door lingers open for a few moments longer as Joost enters behind you.

You flick on some lights, illuminating the space around you in a pale yellow glow.

"I think I'm going to get ready for bed," You say lowly, still not tired, but you're unsure of what else to do, "Um," You start to speak again, "I won't make you sleep on the couch, I don't mind sharing the bed." You turn to Joost, shrugging. You secretly hope Joost doesn't decide to take the couch anyway.

"Cool," He grins, eyes scanning the apartment awkwardly.

"Good," Your voice just above a whisper, "Uh, you can make yourself comfortable then, I'll be back." You nod before heading to the bathroom, ready to get your makeup off of your face.

You unzip Joost's hoodie, hooking it on the back of the bathroom door, not wanting to get it wet while washing your face. You head toward the sink, turning the faucet, staring at yourself in the mirror while you wait for the water to warm up.

You sigh, using this alone time to think long and hard about how you want this night to end. Off the top of your head, you know how you want the night to end, the man you were once certain was the love of your life was most definitely making himself comfortable in your bed, it seemed like a no brainer of how you want this night to end.

But it's not so easy to throw away your morality completely, though maybe you've already made your bed by asking Joost to stay the night. Michael would be mad regardless, perhaps there's no point of turning back now. You clench your jaw, deciding you're willing to go however far Joost is.

Another fifteen minutes in the bathroom and you're stepping out feeling a little better, nerves quelled by your extensive nightly self-care routine. You breathe in as you open the bathroom door, your mouth tingling from your minty toothpaste as you take the air in. You exhale as you exit the bathroom, walking towards your bedroom.

The door is open, the room dimly lit by the glow of your TV, and the light that shines in from your balcony window.

Joost lays comfortably in your bed, his lower body resting beneath your thick comforter, it's like he belongs there, resting so casually as if it was his bed too.

"You can turn on a light you know," You smile, your voice pulling him away from whatever he had been watching on TV.

"Oh," He sits up from his position against the pillows, "I wasn't sure if you wanted it on." He rolls over slightly, stretching an arm out to turn on the lamp that sits on your bedside table.

With a faint click your room is cast in a soft orange hue. You take a look around the now illuminated space, realizing you had forgotten to straighten up before you left for the night, some clothes scattered around the floor from your frantic search for the "perfect" outfit.

"Sorry about the mess," An unnecessary shyness in your voice, as Joost had certainly seen your room in worse states.

"I didn't even notice," He chuckles, "Guess I added to it," His head cocking towards your dresser, the pants he had been wearing messily folded with the belt still in the loops sitting on top of it.

You don't respond, instead bending down to unbuckle the ankle strap on your shoes before sliding them off. There's a relief as your feet hit the floor, no longer stuck in the forced uncomfortable position from your high heels. You place your shoes off to the side and close your bedroom door behind you as you step further in.

You walk towards you dresser, thumbing through a mountain of clothes to find something to sleep in, pulling out a T-shirt that had no doubt belonged to Joost some time ago.

"You know, your boyfriend's kind of a dick." Joost speaks unprompted.

"What?" You laugh, shutting one of the drawers to the dresser before spinning around to face Joost.

"Sorry," He furrows his eyebrows, "That was uncalled for. I was- just thinking about tonight, what he said, about the music stuff- and leaving you at the restaurant."

"Oh," You frown, he's not wrong, but you should probably defend your boyfriend, "Michael is just-" Nothing comes to mind, you cannot muster any sort of actual defense, "Yeah, I guess he can be sort of a dick." Your tone becomes dejected, an unfortunate realization that maybe, once again, you had't picked the right man.

"Wow," Joost seems amused, "Never seen you so quick to admit I'm right."

"Shut up," You roll your eyes, playfully scolding him, "Anyways, it's his loss really that he didn't take me home tonight." You pause, taking the intrigue on Joost's face, the way his eyes widen and his eyebrows raise, eager to listen to your complaints, as he for once, was finally not the subject of them. "Bought some cute new lingerie, which I wore tonight, and now he doesn't get to see it." A careful smirk pulling at your lips, "What a waste."

Joost shakes his head, "Poor guy." despite his words it's clear he doesn't feel sorry for him, though, why would he, "But I mean-" He hesitates for a moment, "It doesn't have to be a waste."

"No?" You can feel your face grow hot, "What are you suggesting? That I go through the effort of posing for some pictures for him so he doesn't have to miss out?" You know he's not, but you need the confirmation.

Joost squints his eyes, shaking his head,

"I was actually, thinking of a different audience entirely."

"And that audience being..."

"Me."

"You?" The pair of you speak simultaneously

"Hmm," You pretend to think, as if this wasn't what you were hoping he'd say, "I'm sure you'll appreciate it more than he would anyway."

Joost nods fervently, as your hands fly to the hem of your shirt, quickly lifting the fabric over your head exposing the promised cute new bra. It was simple, black, lace, with a bow between the two cups, but you found it cute regardless, plus, it made your boobs look amazing.

A small smile on your face as you flick your eyes to Joost, who's now sitting up a little higher on the pillows, clearly amused, waiting on edge to see the matching panties. You continue to stare him down as you very slowly pull down the zipper on the back of your skirt.

"Need any help with that?" Joost raises an eyebrow, the question is purely rhetorical but you know he'd love nothing more right now than to get his hands on you.

"No, I think I got it." The zipper reaches as far down as it can go, the skirt loosening at your waist. You do the extra work to pull it over your thighs before letting it slip down past your knees to your ankles, kicking it off to the side.

The panties are just as simple as the bra, a plain black thong with a lacy trim, with a bow in the middle of the waist band to match.

Joost squints, "Oh, you know my eyesight is bad, come closer."

A slight giggle leaves your mouth as you scurry over to the bed in excited anticipation. You stand over where Joost lies now, biting down on your tongue so hard you're sure you'll draw blood. Joost's eager eyes swallow you whole, taking in every inch of your newly exposed body.

Joost sits up all the way, the comforter that once covered him slipping down his chest and into his lap. He swings his legs over so they hang off the bed before reaching out a hand, gently placing it on your hip,

"Oh, schatje," He mumbles, his thumb moving back and forth, gently caressing your skin. Every time Joost touched you like this it felt like the first, your muscles tensing under him. He slides his hand up your torso so it rests on your waist, groping your lightly. "Je bent zo mooi," (you look so beautiful) His eyes find yours, making sharp, and direct eye contact with each other as a smirk forms upon his lips, "I'll almost feel bad taking all this off of you."

"Taking it off me?" You gasp, pretending to be offended by his insinuation.

"No?" He asks, raising an eyebrow like it's a challenge.

"Yeah- I mean, It's kind of unfair, y'know, talking about getting me undressed when you're still pretty clothed."

"What?" He teases, "You want me naked, schatje?"

"Mmm," You purse your lips, "I didn't say that, just if I'm gonna stand here in nothing but my underwear, maybe you should have to take something off too."

"You don't drive much of a hard bargain." Joost smiles, his hands already eager to tear off his shirt, "But that's probably because I'd do anything for you."

"Anything?" You bite your lip, deep down you wish it was as true as he says it is now, just about anything seems like a more apt estimation. He'd do anything but be emotionally present when you need it, anything but listen to you when you say there's a problem in your relationship, anything but engage in healthy communication.

But now's not the time to worry about that, to worry about the past, or the future, not when Joost is undressing in front of you, pulling his black T-shirt over his head, messing up his already unruly blond hair.

The second his flesh is exposed you're already aching to put your hands all over him, yearning for the feeling of his soft skin below your hands.

"Better," The ends of your mouth pull upward in content,

"Don't think so," Joost pouts before looking down at himself, "I don't think we're even, I think... my chest is pretty exposed and you're still very... covered." He looks back at you, waving his hand in a circle as he gestures towards your bra.

"You're ridiculous," You let out a small laugh at the way Joost plays your game.

"No, just being fair," He grabs your hand, pulling you closer so you stand between his legs, "Like you say." He leans forward, placing a kiss just below your belly button, his hands moving to settle on the backs of your thighs, keeping you close to him.

"Right," You smile, "Fair." Your hands crawling up your sides, reading towards your back, quickly fumbling around with the clasp of your bra before unhooking it.

Joost looks up from where he's pressed against your stomach, watching with intent as you slide the straps down your arms, and eventually discarding the bra all together.

You're not as ashamed as you should be, standing in front of Joost like this, in fact, you rather like the way he drinks you in, wordlessly admiring you, devouring your frame with hungry eyes.

"C'mon," Joost pulls away from you, his hands leaving your thighs, "Lay down with me?"

You nod, stepping back from where you stand between his legs so he can crawl back into your bed, shifting to the middle of the mattress. You follow shortly after, crawling on top of the blankets, before making your way to Joost.

Immediately you're straddling him, your knees on either side of him as you sit on his thighs. You try to keep your eyes trained on his face, and pretend not to notice the rest of him, or the way he's beginning to strain against the tight confines of his underwear. But you'd be lying if you said you weren't feeling similarly to him now, a familiar pulsing in your inner thighs, thumping heavily, muscles tight.

"Here," Joost motions with both hands for you to come closer, to rest your bare chest against his. It's an offer you'd be stupid not to accept, leaning forward, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. As you lean down, Joost's lips meet yours, enveloping you in a kiss so soft if it hadn't been coming from your ex, it would be romantic.

Or perhaps that fact had made it more romantic. Regardless you were lost in the way his lips worked slowly against yours, the two of you in perfect rhythm. You straighten your legs so you're laying completely on top of him. Joost's hands move to your waist, helping to position your hips. Your mouth opens slightly, gasping against Joost's lips once you finally feel him put you in the perfect position, the growing bulge in his underwear now right under your crotch.

"Right there," He mumbles before his mouth melts back into yours. You push your hips forward finding some friction between yours and Joost's bodies. You're pathetic, pathetic for him, but it's hard to care, not when he slips his tongue past your lips, hungrily exploring your mouth. Not when he holds your hips so tight his fingertips are sure to bruise your flesh, pulling you down towards him, letting you feel the full extent to how badly he needed you.

You roll your hips forward, your clit grinding against, what you assume is the tip of his now hardened cock. Joost groans into the kiss, clearly enjoying the sensation. By now the two of you would usually be scrambling to get each other naked, but the extra clothing, and the lack of penetration almost makes things more intimate. Joost turns his head for a moment to pull back from the kiss,

"Tell me if we start to take things too far." His voice is strained, and the slow caress of his thumb against your lower back ensuring how genuine each word he spoke was, "Promise?"

"Promise," You whisper.

Truthfully you were long past the point of "taking things too far", having already crossed a line when you decided to tease him under the table at the restaurant. This, now, was borderline unacceptable, fuck that, it was unacceptable- but neither of you seem to mind, Joost almost eager to be a "home wrecker", and you denying that you and Michael even had a home to wreck.

Despite how immoral this may be, you need more of Joost, the death grip he has on your hips has you moving far too slow for your complete and utter desperation.

"Faster," You sigh against Joost's lips, hoping he'll listen rather than using your request to tease you. Joost's hands move just below your ass, his blunt fingernails ripping into the backs of your thighs, spreading them further apart. With his new position you're able move more on your own, able to stimulate yourself more. Pushing your knees into the soft mattress, you begin to rut your hips faster, increasing the friction between you.

As hard as you try to keep a consistent pace, the burning desire in your core and the slick of your arousal make it almost impossible, unable to keep up with your own need.

"You like it like this?" Joost asks, almost breathless, a cockiness in his voice that tells you he already knows the answer.

"Mmhm," You hum lazily, letting your head drop from where you had been holding it up above Joost's, down to his shoulder. You're impossibly drunk off the way you feel, the way with each roll of your hips your clit grinds so perfectly against the length of Joost's cock. It's mind numbing how perfect you fit together, even stifled through your remaining clothes, you're filled with such pleasure.

You dig your fingers into the sides of Joost's arms, fingernails sure to leave little crescent moon shaped markings in his skin. You wish you could pull him closer, still feeling like there is a distance that needs to be closed between the two of you despite your position on top of him.

You clench your jaw, muscles tight at the way your body strains for him. Joost lets one hand climb up your thigh, palm now resting on the curve of you ass, before his fingernails return to your flesh, groping harshly, forcing you to grind harder against his cock. It's apparent that being away from each other for as short as a month was far too long.

You want to hold out for as long as possible, not wanting this feeling to fade, for it to be over in as quick as a few seconds as your orgasm rains over you- but its not so easy as the tightness builds between your thighs, and your movements become even sloppier than they were before.

You're a complete mess the way you whimper into the side of Joost's neck, only egged on by his obvious pulse thumping against your swollen lips.

Joost's own groans don't help holding you off from your impending climax, knowing how good this feels for him too, and that he's just as desperate for you as you are from him is just all too much for your brain to handle.

You know you're close when your legs start to tremble, and its not so easy to push yourself back and forth anymore,

"Tired already?" Joost teases, "Need me to help you?" He wraps two strong arms around your lower back, taking it upon himself to replicate your movements. Joost also thrusts his hips forward in time with you, only making your stimulation more intense.

"So good," The full breadth of you vocabulary seems to disappear, only able to slur together a few measly words to let Joost know how you were feeling, "Feels so good."

"I know it does," He sighs, "You close, schatje? Your legs are shaking."

"Very close," You screw your eyes tight, the hot simmering in your core about to turn over and reach its boiling point. Each and every one of your muscles are incredibly tight, bracing for your impending orgasm.

Joost holds you tighter upon hearing how close you were, determined to work you through your orgasm.

"Whenever you're ready," He encourages.

You could almost break a tooth with how tight your jaw is clenched, nothing but strained whines clawing their way out of your throat as you approach your climax.

The idea of cumming in your panties is a little embarrassing, but in the way that instead of making you want to crawl inside of your self in shame, it makes you only that much closer to finishing. Especially when combined with the filthiness of the fact you'll be ruining those panties over a different man than the one you bought them for. Joost had a habit of brining out the worst in you in the best ways, and now was no different.

"Joost," Your jaw finally unclenches in order for you to get one final word desperate out before your orgasm strikes you. A hot pang of electricity cracks throughout your entire body.

Joost's grip on you does not let up as you ride out your high, his voice nothing but a dull mumble of praises, "Ja, dat is het" (yeah that's it)

You continue to thrust against Joost until you're throbbing with overstimulation, gasping for air against Joost's neck.

"Is that all you got for me?" Joost asks, his words are lighthearted, not minding if you're too tired to continue for the night.

But you're not ready for the night to end, not so abruptly, just like that.

"Just," You inhale, your chest rising against Joost's, "Catching my breath." Exhale.

"Yeah," Joost laughs, high, and light- almost a giggle, "You were working pretty hard."

"Hmm," You hum, "You helped, a little." Acknowledging your orgasm was mainly due to your own work.

"I don't think that's enough," Joost pauses to place a kiss to the crown of your head, "Why don't you lay on your back so I can give you some real effort."

You peel yourself off of Joost's chest, bodies lightly sticky with sweat. You roll over, lightly thumping onto the mattress, landing on your back. Joost wastes no time in getting on top of you, perched on his hands and knees above you. A sight you had gotten used to by now, but it had never gotten less thrilling.

His unruly blonde locks spill over his forehead, some strands sticking against his skin with perspiration. His pupils are blown wide, looking like he's been rolling on molly, but his drug of choice tonight is you, your mere presence getting him higher than the finest pills or powder money could buy.

A lazy smirk draws across his swollen pink lips, a chuckle falling from them as they part,

"Don't laugh if I don't last too long," He jokes, bending his arms to lean forward and kiss your forehead, "You got me a little worked up."

"A little?"

"Very," He sighs in feigned defeat, "You drive me fucking crazy."

"Yeah, both in and out of the bedroom I'm sure." You grin, allowing yourself for just a moment to laugh at the ridiculousness of the antics you often pulled with Joost.

"Mhm," He nods, "But I probably deserve it."

"At least you're self aware, acceptance is the first step to recovery."

"Shut up," He laughs

"Make me," So cliche, You giggle.

It's a challenge Joost takes seriously, immediately catching your lips in another passionate kiss, rendering you unable to speak. You lift your arms, wrapping them around Joost's neck, pulling him down closer to you as you return his kiss.

He pulls away for a split instant, your arms falling to your side with a gentle thud.

"You're sure you want this?" His words are cautious, "We don't have to-"

"I wanna," You cut him off, "I want you." Emphasizing how badly it's him you want.

"In that case," He lifts himself from you, propped up on his knees as his hands reach for the waistband of his underwear. His fingers hook into the elastic, stretching it out slightly before pulling them down his thighs. You watch in anticipation as his cock springs free from the confines of the fabric. You shift your gaze between Joost's face and his dick, the tip a throbbing shade of red, leaky with pre-cum.

You curl your pointer finger towards you, beckoning for Joost to come closer as you prop yourself up on the pillows.

"How about we get these out of the way," Joost suggests, his hands finding their way into the elastic waistband of your panties. You nod, urging him to take them off, which he wastes no time doing.

As your panties come off you bend your legs, putting yourself on complete display for Joost. He grips the base of his cock in his palm, stroking up and down its shaft a few times, stopping at the tip momentarily to spread the clear pearl of precum that leaks from his slit around the head.

"Am I just supposed to stare while you jerk yourself off, or are you going to fuck me?" You tease.

"Patience is a virtue, schatje." He chastises, shaking his head back and forth.

"Fuck patience, I need you inside me." You whine, feeling your arousal growing once again at the anticipation of what's to come next.

"Fuck patience is right," He sighs, realizing what's in front of him.

Joost leans forward slowly to hover over you once more, his face close enough to you that the heat of his heavy breath is almost suffocating. You bite your lip, spreading your legs just a bit more, ready for him.

Joost's eyes trail down from your eyes to between your legs, ready to line himself up with your entrance, admiring every part of you along the way.

With the base of his cock held firmly in his hands, Joost sloppily pushes the tip through your soaked folds, collecting your arousal. You whine slightly, your whole body jerking as he passes your clit, still puffy and overstimulated from before.

Finally he lines himself up with your entrance, eyes flicking up towards you in search of a final nod of assurance, which you gladly give to him.

He pushes into you slowly, almost too slow, allowing you to feel all of him, every vein and curve as he enters you. You hold your breath as you wait for him to enter you completely, the way you stretch around him familiar yet incredibly overstimulating in your current state.

"You okay?" He exhales

"Y-yeah, keep going, please." You assure, nodding quickly.

Joost finally bottoms out, lingering fully inside of you before pulling most of the way out just as painfully slow,

It takes a few strokes for Joost to build up a pace, but once he does he's leaning over you once more. You raise both of your palms to his shoulders, gripping onto them for a split moment before sliding them down to his chest, running your hands over the tuft of dirty blonde hairs.

With each careful thrust into you, your breathing becomes heavier, your brain foggier, purely overwhelmed with the pleasure that is Joost.

"I missed this," Joost groans, "Fuck," He curses, pointed and sharp, "-'m'I gonna have to go another month without you after this? Don't know if I can handle that."

Having already crossed such a line in your relationship with Michael, it seemed unnecessary to deprive yourself of continuing to see Joost in this capacity again.

"Mmno," You slur, "Can have this whenever you want, whenever you want. Every day even."

"Every day, baby?" He raises an eyebrow, "What's the matter? Michael can't make you cum like I do?"

"Or at all," You sigh,

"Oh," Joost's expression is suddenly pained, "Not at all?"

"Barely." You clarify, not quite sure of why the topic of Michael is even being brought up during sex.

Joost lowers his head to your jaw, pressing open mouth kisses to your skin. His tongue is wet and warm, it's soothing, the sensation making you exhale in pure bliss.

"Just using me to cum then, hm?" His question not entirely serious.

"Oh shut up," You giggle, "That's what my fingers are for."

Joost places another sloppy kiss to your jaw before speaking again,

"And I don't suppose you're thinking of Michael when you're doing that?"

"Not exact-ly," You admit, the inflection of your voice raising on the last syllable as Joost begins to thrust into you harder.

"Care to enlighten me on what you do think about?" His voice leads you to believe he's confident that he's the one you think about when trying to get off, and of course, he's right.

"This, right here," You admit, breathing labored with Joost's sharp thrusts. "You," You swallow down a moan, "Fucking me." You bite your lip, "And when I don't feel like faking an orgasm, I imagine its you fucking me instead of Michael."

"Fuck, liefje," Joost lets out a low groan, "Gonna make me cum right now saying shit like that to me."

"Well it's true," You respond innocently, "Never gonna find anyone else like you." And part of you never wants to, Joost such a unique part of your life you'd never want to replace, no matter how rocky things have a habit of becoming between you.

Both of you cease to speak, no more sly remarks to make to each other, rather your bedroom filled only by the borderline pornographic noises you and Joost made together. The filthy wet slapping that bounced off the walls with each thrust, you whispered moans, and Joost's strained grunts instead filling the dead air.

You slide your hands towards Joost's neck, pressing down with your palms, careful not to choke him out, only wanting to feel him under you.

Joost seems like he's struggling to keep pace, his arms wavering on either side of you, signaling he was probably getting close, you're not far behind, but you can't help be disappointed, wishing this moment could last forever.

At this point, Joost knew your body by memory, knowing just where to thrust and at what pace to have you squirming and whimpering under him. And he was putting that knowledge to plenty good use now, the sound of your moans getting louder, and more unruly with each roll of his hips forward was music to his ears.

You feel your muscles tighten once more, already aching and sore from your prior activities, yet you don't let the strain distract you from your building climax. You know you won't be able to last much longer, not with the perfect angle Joost thrusts into you at, so deep with each stroke, and so delicately brushing over your sensitive clit every time he pulls out and subsequently dips back into you.

You keep your eyes trained on Joost for stability, watching the way his face contorts with each perfect thrust forward. He's pretty, almost impossibly so, in a way that makes it hard to care how frequently he seemed to make a mess of your life- it was all worth it, just to see that pretty face above you like this.

"You're staring," He can barely laugh, too out of breath, though he tries. Joost had always been amused by your infatuation with him, and even more so he loved to watch how shy you got when he called you out on it.

Your skin is hot, and not just from the obvious physical activity, it's a warmth that radiates from inside of you, burning every nerve. You let your head fall to the side, a sheepish smile stuck on your lips.

"Don't shy away from me, I'd like to stare at you too." He whines, coaxing you to look back at him.

Your eyes reach his once again, and you notice how his lips part in a deep gasp, ready to speak

"I'm close," His eyes screwing shut for a moment, "Do you want me to pull out?"

He'd never asked before, it had never been a problem, knowing full well you were on the pill.

"Huh-" You huff, "No"

"Just making sure," He speaks through gritted teeth, "Don't wanna be knocked up with another man's baby."

"Oh be quiet," You scold, realizing how badly you choosing to do this with him while you were with Michael had Joost reeling, obviously getting off on it. Getting off on the fact for what felt like for once in his life, he was the better man, and that he was obviously irreplaceable in your life.

"Fuck, schatje," He grunts, "You okay if I cum now?" Not like there was much of a choice, he didn't really have control over that sort of thing,

"Please," You plead, wanting nothing more than to take him to completion.

With a few sharp thrusts, ones that so deliciously hit that perfect spot inside of you, ones that leave you yelping so loud you're sure the neighbors will hear, Joost is spilling into you. His warm release coats your walls.

The feeling makes you clench, Joost sucking in a sharp breath at the way you grip him with his lingering thrusts. His hips sputter forward, sharply ramming into you, this one final move enough to set off your own expectant orgasm.

"Joost!" Your hands leave his neck, flying down to the bed to grab the comforter below you, gripping it harshly between your fingers for stability. Your whole body is overwhelmed by pleasure, and you begin to loose control, legs shaking, body squirming, noises you couldn't even know you could make leaving your lips. You're a complete mess, probably looking more like you're having an exorcism than having sex. But you can't help yourself, it's all too much, and feels all too good. "I'm-" You can't even finish your sentence before the walls of your pussy begin to flutter, your own release spilling out of you, mixing with Joost's to paint his cock with his few final lazy strokes.

Once your orgasm finally rolls over you, Joost is collapsing onto your chest, the pair of you desperate to catch your breaths. You release your grip from the comforter, fingers sore are you flex them, loosing them from their tightened position.

You know the impending wave of guilt is bound to crash into you at any moment, but at least for now you feel nice, Joost's hot, sweaty body atop you is a comforting weight, despite the way it slows your breathing.

You wrap your arms around his back, his skin sticky with perspiration, but you don't mind the way it feels, only wanting to be close to him. He's not quite ready to pull out of you yet, and you're not ready to let him go, instead both of you opt to enjoy the moment, letting your shallow breaths fill the room with eyes shut tight.

You press a kiss to Joost's forehead, unable to stop yourself from the mildly romantic gesture. It's clear Joost doesn't mind, placing a kiss to your shoulder from where his head lies on you.

After a few more minutes of embracing like this, Joost slowly begins to peel himself off of you. You watch intently as he lifts himself up, hair in every which direction, eyelids low, face heavy with lingering pleasure. You want nothing more than to pull him back down on you and stay like that, but you really need to catch your breath.

Carefully, Joost begins to pull out of you, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation, a strangled whine leaving your throat.

"Sorry," Joost apologizes, finally pulling out of you completely. The way you can feel his release spilling out of you, onto your thighs makes you wince, a filthy reminder of what you had done. Joost most definitely notices the look on your face, backing off of the bed, "Hold on, I'll clean you up."

You assume Joost had run off to the bathroom, coming back a few moments later with a towel, gently patting it between your thighs, careful not to overstimulate you further.

"Gonna go onto the balcony for a smoke" He says, standing back up to redress himself in his underwear, "Want me to close the door behind me so it doesn't get cold in here?"

"It's okay," You sigh, finally having the strength to sit up. Your abdomen and legs are sore, letting you know tomorrow will be a challenge, "Just means you'll have to cuddle me when you get back in."

"Perfectly okay with that," He chuckles before heading to open up to the small balcony on the other side of your room.

A small breeze enters the room as the doors open, and soon the scent of smoke follows. The chill makes you want to hide under the covers, but something is pulling you to go out there with him. You quickly get up from the bed, fighting the cold as you scramble to put on the shirt you had picked out before and a new pair of underwear.

The cold of the outside fully hits you as you step onto the balcony, but it's hard to mind with Joost half-naked in front of you.

"You want a smoke?" He asks

"No, I'm good." You shake your head, "Just wanted to-" Your voice is soft as you wrap your arms around Joost's torso. He's still so warm despite the weather outside. He wraps his free arm behind you, pulling you close to him.

"That's alright," He mumbles into your hair, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. You find comfort in the slow thump of your heart, and this way his chest rises and falls each time he takes a drag of his cigarette. You wish things with Joost could be like this all the time, though really you knew this was the calm before the next storm.

It's nice to pretend, though, at least for now. Pretend he's still your boyfriend, and that everything had worked out between the two of you like it should have.

"You alright, liefje? You're being nicer to me than usual." His slight laughter vibrates against your cheek from where it's pressed to your chest, making you snuggle into him.

You know he's joking but it makes you feel a little bad, knowing you can be harsh on him over the smallest things sometimes.

"I don't know," You sigh, overwhelmed with emotion once more, "I think that- I don't know." You repeat, "Confused."

"I am too."

"I'm sorry." You know it's your fault just as much as it is his.

"Me too."

"I think I still love you." You don't think, you know, but you feign like you're unsure to make it less real.

"Schatje," He coos, rubbing his hand over your back.

"Am I crazy to think you might still love me too?"

"Not at all." He presses another kiss to your head, "I know I love you too."

You dread the moment when you'll have to return back to real life, the reality where Joost is nothing more than an ex boyfriend, and you're with Michael- but for now things are good. Joost will wake you up with head in the morning, and after you'll go to that breakfast place you like around the corner, still in your pajamas. The two of you will sit next to each other in the booth, and hold hands under the table before heading home to share a shower together. And inevitably as the day grows later, one of you will make the smallest slip up, say one wrong thing, and you'll be at each others throats again, ending the day crying, finally ignoring each other until its time to repeat the cycle over again.

But that was a problem for tomorrow, right now you're in his arms, and he's telling you how much he still loves you, and you can pretend for just a moment, that maybe, just maybe things will change.

a/n: weeee i wasn't expecting this to get so long XD......... <3 but im so excited to finally get this out... mwah mwah <3... if you're feeling kind, leave a comment or a reblog to let me know what you think! thank you :3

[anncanta]

‘The Rings of Power’ and what is adult cinema

I think I understand what the matter is. Why there is such a strange attitude towards The Rings of Power and constant reproaches from a number of viewers that the series is boring and that it lacks epicness and vivid characters.

This point of view (and it is the same point of view) has two reasons – age and an excess of content.

The thing is that modern viewers consume a huge amount of content. These are books, films, computer games, fan fiction, TV series. It is not that it is difficult to surprise such a viewer – it is actually possible to surprise them since they are quite naive – it is as if they have sensory fatigue. Or, rather, they have stopped perceiving shades and see only colors. And among the colors – only those that glow neon and fluoresce. What is below this threshold is not interesting to them, simply because their sensitivity is dulled, like (sorry for the comparison) for a user of psychoactive substances who needs to increase the dose to get the same sensations.

That's why the characters of The Rings of Power are dull for these viewers, the storylines are boring, and the whole story lacks epicness. And it doesn't matter that this story is not about epicness at all. It's about the price living beings pay for epicness. About what attempts to start a ‘great war’ or ‘correct big mistakes’ turn out to be. How good intentions and the desire to return to the ‘great past’ or start into a brilliant future end. What an attempt to cheat death leads to.

And here we come to the second reason. To adulthood. The series The Rings of Power is for adults. Not only because adult actors play in it. Young people play there too. But because it is written in an adult way, conceived in an adult way, and played in an adult way.

These heroes and this story do not have the problems of ‘who looked at whom in what way’, ‘who does not want to marry whom off to their beloved’, and ‘which armies clashed on this hill’. With all due respect to these problems. The Rings of Power is about something completely different.

In this film, one of the central scenes is the conversation between Galadriel and Elrond in Cirdan's workshop. The scene in which stubborn Elrond repeatedly brings Galadriel back to the question she doesn't really want to return to – has Sauron really left her consciousness? How did he get there? How far did he go?

And it's not about whether she's in love with Sauron or whether he has a chance to become her lover. I have the impression that the writers don't care about that at all. They care about Galadriel's relationship with Sauron inside. For them, evil is not a black blot that just wants to destroy the whole world (in this sense, the beginning of the second season and Sauron in his black form are also a parody of such decisions), but something that has crawled into your soul and become you. Where, at what point did it become you? How much has it become you? Can you resist it? These are very boring questions to answer – especially if you are uncomfortable with them.

The other pivotal scene is where Sauron tortures Celebrimbor. I know it's bland for viewers used to detailed violence and fan fiction. But it's monstrous. It's horrifying in its simplicity. You look at this beautiful creature who knows exactly where to shoot, so it hurts, but also so the victim stays alive. Then he comes over and moves one arrow slightly. You look at it and you want to scream.

And then Celebrimbor defeats him. Not because Celebrimbor is physically stronger, or a greater wizard, or has a deadlier sword. Because Celebrimbor speaks the truth. Because all these mind games are worthless when you look at them with clear eyes. So Celebrimbor looks. And makes Sauron look. That is stronger than any battle. As is the silence Sauron remains in, which he has tried so hard to drown out with the sounds of thunderous battle. That is why he weeps, and not because Celebrimbor has humiliated or insulted him.

The central part of the story is strange, imperfect, doubting Galadriel. After centuries of pain and loss, fear and anger, rage and grief, she believed that there was someone in this world who could understand her – and he turned out to be the Dark Lord. This makes their misunderstanding all the more vivid and profound – Sauron thinks that Galadriel rejected him because he did not offer her enough, but she did it because he offered too much. The noble Halbrand was enough – not the divinely handsome (another jab at fans of epic films with grandiose perfect men), but a man who was wrong and willing to admit his mistakes. By showing her that Halbrand was a deception, Sauron betrayed not her love, but her belief that there was a way back. Including for herself, who, no matter how absurd it may be, still cannot forgive herself for putting the helmets of her brothers and sisters in the mound.

This faith will be restored to her later by Adar – for a moment, for a few minutes, he returned to his former elven appearance and showed her that it is possible to forgive others and forgive herself. Having missed the opportunity to escape with the ring of power and accepted her help and their alliance.

All these plot lines, all these stories, all the events and heroes do not look bright and spectacular. Even the battles do not look spectacular. Do you know why?

Because battles are not spectacular. They are dirty, stinking, disgusting, and full of pain and blood. Eregion during the siege does not look like grandiose fortresses – it looks like bloody besieged cities. Like cities on which bombs fall. Like cities into which, like cockroaches, aliens crawl. This is what the truth looks like. Do not believe the artificial mouse running across the floor. Better check if the candle is burning out.

The problem and, in fact, the essence is that all these things are impossible to see and understand if you are a young person. In youth, all the stories are about love (with a capital letter), about war (heroic and brilliant), and about refined characters who proudly walk back and forth. They talk little because the young are not interested in conversations. They are interested in kissing and figuring out who is better.

But I am interested in something else. And many people like me are too. And I am incredibly happy that the authors made this film for us. It is not even about Tolkien – I repeat, I am rather indifferent to him. The point is how, through Tolkien and his legendarium, the authors talk about what is important to me. And they do it masterfully. And the most beautiful thing is that those who are young will definitely grow up and become adults.

And then maybe they will love this story too.

[coryosbaby]

STEPSISTER AND ETHAN?HER SECRETLY RIDING HIS COCK DURING A MOVIE NIGHT.

Ultraviolence- E.L & C.M

(pt. 2)

Fandom: “Scream Vi”

Pairing: Stepbrother! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, Chad Meeks Martin x fem! Reader (not in this chapter), Ethan Landry x Chad Meeks Martin (not in this chapter)

Warning: dubcon, slight sliiiight mention of vomit and suicide (but not in a serious manner), stepcest (stepsister x stepbrother), public sex in front of relatives (the parents are completely clueless), scent kink, dom! Ethan, dark! Ethan, sub! Reader, p n v, squirting, finger sucking, degradation, possession, rough sex

A/N: 😱 how have I not thought ab stepbrother! Ethan before ??!! Thank you for this. The way I wrote the whole situation is literally so unrealistic but fuck it we ball. Literally going to write so many more stepbro fics now and am totally making this a series 😘 this is pt 2! Pt 1 is already posted <3 luv u

“Care if I sit here, sis?” Ethan’s voice is laced with sarcasm, and you cringe.

It’s movie night, and your mom and Ethan’s dad are sprawled out on one couch. The only spots left are the ones on the smaller couch with two seats. The lights are off, and Ethan is standing above you, a large green comforter clutched in his ring clad hands. The light of from the television makes him a warm silhouette.

You give him a thin awkward smile, mumbling a small “yeah, sure.”

He grins, but there’s a mischievous look to it that doesn’t sit right with you.

“Great!”

He plops down beside you, covering his tall form with the blanket. He moves close to you, even though he has a whole other half of the cushion to take up. Your face flushes when you catch a whiff of his cologne, and you have flashbacks to a few weeks ago.

A flashback, it seems, that racks you with a shit ton of guilt.

You cant stop thinking about it. About how Ethan threw you on top of the kitchen counter when your parents were gone a few weeks ago and fucked your virgin pussy open. Can’t stop thinking about how his hands had felt, how his cock had felt.

You shiver, and your stomach twists in knots. What the fuck is wrong with you? This whole thing is sick. He’s your stepbrother, for god’s sake!

Ethan’s fingers gently skimming along your knee cap is what pull you out of your thoughts. You narrow your eyes at him, not in the mood for his antics right now.

But, as usual, Ethan doesn’t know how to fucking listen.

“Sis, you’re practically freezing. You should move a little closer and share the blankets with me.” Ethan suggests. You are freezing, but you aren’t going to admit that.

You scoff, and then roll your eyes. “Fuck off.”

“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Your mother scolds from across the room. “And be nice to your brother!”

Brother. You might throw up. In fact, jumping off the roof sounds like a very good idea right about now.

“Whatever.” You mutter, and scoot closer to the the boy next to you. Your mother turns her attention back to the movie as Ethan’s dad wraps his arms around her.

Ethan’s scent gets stronger, more prominent, now that your arms and legs are touching. You notice that it’s not just his cologne that smells so good; it’s him. Just, completely and utterly him.

You really do hate yourself right now.

Ethan throws the blanket over the two of you and he begins to slowly lift you and sit you down on top of him. You stiffen, his closeness in such a public setting confusing you. Does he just want you both to get caught?

“Oh, look at them, Wayne! They’re bonding!” Your mom gushes when she sees Ethan holding you. She’s so naive.

‘We’re certainly bonding all right, but not in the way you want, mom.’ You think. You move around to try and sit correctly on Ethan.

And then you feel it. Big and hard, pressing against your ass. He’s hard.

In front of your fucking parents, too. Jesus, this motherfucker is demented.

You try to ignore it, you really do. But your pussy has a mind of its own, and Ethan isn’t making it any easier. His thigh flexes and pushes the muscle against your soaking pussy. He seems calm, but his grip on your hips is a dead giveaway. You try not to gasp, to moan at the feeling of the friction against your swollen little clit. It’s difficult.

“Oh! See, Wayne? This is my favorite part.”

Your mom’s voice cuts through your wild thoughts, and your face gets hotter than it was before, if possible. She doesn’t deserve this.

Ethan’s hands rest on your upper thighs now, and you feel the coldness of his rings against your skin.

He’s breathing quietly down your neck, and you feel him adjust. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when your lightly lifted by his strong arms, while he moves his sweatpants down. You try to act calm when he lowers you back down and his big cock is resting in between your pussy and his thigh. And then, when Ethan sees that your parents aren’t looking, he presses a light kiss to your neck.

“Be really still, angel. Don’t wanna get caught, do you?” He whispers, lips against your ear. You shake your head.

He chuckles. “That’s my girl.”

You clench. And then, you feel the boy gently pull your sleep shorts and panties to the side. He lifts his cock and presses the tip into your tight hole, and you almost whine. He already feels so good. Why does he feel this good?

His cock is wet, and you can feel his pre cum spreading around your outer lips. You cringe when you hear the faint sound of your creamy wetness sliding around on his dick. It’s hard for him to stick it inside, really. You had only had sex once since before this moment, that time a few weeks ago. The stretch burns, and Ethan’s above average size doesn’t help. But you sit, and you take it like a good girl. And eventually, slowly, while slightly readjusting you, Ethan’s cock slides all the way in. You feel filled to the brim, and ashamed. Your parents are still watching the movie. Your mom has no idea that her sweet little girl is getting impaled by her stepbrothers big dick.

And then Ethan just…stays there. He doesn’t move, or even try to, and you don’t understand how he can physically handle it. Because as of right now, your thighs are almost shaking from the feeling of being filled. You know you’re soaking, can feel your juices trailing down onto Ethan’s balls and his sweats. You can feel his cock throbbing, can feel all 9 inches and every vein. Your walls clench down on him on accident and you feel his breath hitch.

You smirk. If he wants to play dirty, you can too.

You clench again, your hands going down into the blanket to run your fingers over his balls. He inhales sharply, and his fingers go up to put your arms in a tight grip.

“Stop it.” He growls, his tone low. You lean back to whisper in his ear in a hushed tone.

“Why don’t you make me?”

All of Ethan’s willpower is trying to stop him from plowing you straight on the fucking couch. He can smell the intermingling of yours and his arousal dripping down his cock. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

God, you smell so fucking good.

Both of your thoughts are interrupted when the both of your parents sigh tiredly. The end credits. Ethan’s dad looks incredibly tired, barely even acknowledging the both of you and saying goodnight as he throws you the remote.

“If you guys aren’t going to go to bed anytime soon, just put on something else.”

Ethan’s head is leaned back against the couch, his chest heaving slowly at the feeling of you. Your face is hot, for obvious reasons. Your mom frowns at you.

“Honey? Are you okay? You look a little sick..” her hand goes up to feel your head and Ethan adjusts his hips. You gasp, but quickly cover it up with a cough.

“I’m f-fine mom!” You smile, all teeth. “Just a little tired, that’s all. We’re probably going to watch the wizard of oz… or something.”

Your mom looks at you both strangely for a moment, but decides to shake it off. Both you and Ethan give her a sheepish smile as you begin to actually turn the wizard of oz on as a distraction. She goes upstairs, and lastly, you and Ethan are alone.

As somewhere over the rainbow plays, Ethan instantly throws you onto the couch, shoves his fingers into your mouth, and pounds you so hard that you can feel his tip kissing your cervix. He reaches down to rub your soaked clit, the sound of your wetness prominent.

He begins speaking in a hushed but growling whisper. He’s angry, most definitely. And his full intention is to take it out on you.

“You dirty fucking slut.” He sneers. “Think you can get away with the shit you do? The shit you say? You’re lucky our parents were here tonight, or I would be spanking that cute little ass until it bleeds.”

You let out a cry, one thats muffled by Ethan’s fingers, one you hope doesn’t catch the attention of your parents upstairs. You can feel that elastic in your gut start to snap, can feel yourself letting go.

And then you literally ejaculate onto Ethan’s cock and balls.

He grins down at your squirting pussy, his teeth shining. Your sobs and moans are muffled by his hand, and he gives your cunt a light slap.

“Yeah, squirt all over that cock, baby. Fuck, just wait until mommy and daddy aren’t home. Gonna ruin this fuckin’ pussy, sweet thing.”

He watches your hole as he spreads it apart with his fingers, watches your greedy walls suck him in. Your face is contorted in pleasure, looking up at him like he’s God. His eyes are completely black, almost evil. As he looks at your precious face, your fragile body, possession overtakes him.

Family be damned, you belong to him.

[americaswritings]

Voices of Roses and Ruin | Part IV

Warnings: Violence, murder, Coriolanus being himself, his thoughts

Summary: Coriolanus is looking for you- but he is not the only one.

Words: 2k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: And we have reached the last part! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you like this miniseries. Also I finished the book and watched the movie again (and it was so freaking goood aaah)!!

If you have ideas for Coriolanus oneshots I would love to hear from you (or if you just feel like ranting about the movie, the world of Panem, the characters, Tom Blyth...lol)

There will be more Coriolanus Snow x reader COMING SOON!

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part I | Part II | Part III | Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist! (so you don't miss anything) :)

Coriolanus stared at the bird, watching as it opened its mouth and your paniced voice came out.

“Coriolanus! Tell me where you are!”

Behind him he heard movement, but he was too shellshocked to turn around. He didn‘t need to, he would have recognised that voice anywhere.

"The downfall of a Snow. If that isn‘t something I always wanted to-"

Before the commander could finish his sentence Coriolanus had turned and shot him in the head.

The loud noise startled the bird in its cage and it spread its wings, trying to lift in the air but failing in the closeted space. At least it was quiet now.

Good. If it would have made another sound, used your voice again, he would have wasted a bullet on it.

All of this had been a set-up. A test, to prove his loyality to the capitol. And he had failed. Spectacularly so.

He had chosen you. Your future. And in the same breath he had decided against his own.

Coriolanus was certain in no time more peacekeepers would show up. Perhaps he would know some of them. Maybe he even shared a room and his meals with them and he didn't want to kill him, if he could prevent it.

But if it came down to it, he wouldn't hesitate.

Even though he had never been in the arena, except the time when he had been sent to get Sejanus out, the capitol's games had turned him into a killer too. Or had that always been a part of him, one he had never known existed before?

A violent one, that didn't hesitate to do what needed to be done to save himself. It was scary, but to know his own power felt thrilling too. That if it came down to it he wouldn't just stand around and whine, but act and do what needed to be done, even if it involved getting his hands dirty.

It was true that a desperate man was a dangerous one, because what else did he have to lose? No, there was only you and he would do everything now to save the one thing he had left.

With one last dismissive glance at the dead commander Coriolanus turned and hurried through the corridors. He needed to find you.

Even if you weren't here and he was convinced they had used a recording of you from the arena, he wasn't naive enough to believe it meant you were safe. Unharmed.

What if the capitol had gotten to you?

Maybe you weren't in the district anymore.

Or worse, they had executed you at the hanging tree while they had ordered him here as a distraction.

Both thoughts scared him.

He needed a plan. He couldn't just walk around the district looking for you. Soon they would know what he had done and everyone in the district would be looking for his face.

Then he would end up at the hanging tree and die an undignified death.

But Coriolanus didn't have a better idea. He lacked ressources and power out here and with no ally in his corner he was left to his own.

Keeping his gaze straight ahead and his strides fast and purposeful, he immerged into the bustling streets of the district. He still had no idea where to find you and with each corner he rounded his hope to find you before the capitol did sank.

A turmoil at the market caught his attention and he hurried past the shops until the found a spot that allowed him a good view. A group of peacemakers pushed through the crowd of people, their faces grim and their weapons drawn.

They were searching, no, hunting. For him or for you Coriolanus didn't know.

He pressed himself against the wall when they neared him, lowering his head so they didn't get a glance of his face. "Hey!"

Damn it!

One of the men had noticed him and marched right towards him. Coriolanus was torn between waiting for what was about to happen and ending the man before he got the chance to out him to anyone, but he only had the gun and it would draw too much attention.

"We've got the order to look for the girl that won the games. Come on!"

Coriolanus let out a breath. The man didn't recongize him, not as her mentor and not as a traitor. Word about what he had done hadn't gotten around yet it seemed.

Or this was just another trap.

"What are we supposed to do when we find her?", he asked sternly as he followed the peacekeeper and joined the troop. It was dangerous, being so close to his enemies. If they turned on him now he would stand no chance against them. They outnumbered him.

But it was his best chance to keep an eye on them and it was not like he had a choice.

"For now arrest her. But I suppose she'll have a date with the hanging tree soon." The bastard laughed and Coriolanus wanted to punch him for it until the only sound coming out of his mouth were pleas for forgiveness.

He didn't bother to ask what crime they believed you were guilty of. It didn't matter and too many questions would raise suspicions.

So he followed them raiding the streets and asking shopkeepers and tradesmen about you, relieved about their lack of information regarding your whereabouts, but growing more uneasy with each.

Because with night beginning to set it became clear that they wouldn't stop their search until they had found you and with each minute that ticked by the chance of his actions staying undiscovered slimmed.

"We should seperate", he suggested after another unsuccessful house search. "We stick to the commander's order", the man next to him said and Coriolanus squinted at him in the darkness.

"When did he gave the order?", he asked warily and earned an impatient look. "At dinner time", he said with a shake of his head that openly questioned Corioanus' intelligence, who ignored it.

He was feeling dizzy and the world seemed strangely disorted as he grasped for composure. He had missed dinner time, because he had been ordered to speak to the commander. But if that hadn't been the commander, who had he killed?

"The hell", the man next to him whispered, pushing him roughly forward, "what's going on with you, man?!" Coriolanus had no time to answer.

There was a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest as control was slipping from his fingers and he felt himself spirraling.

"I got her!"

A loud voice pulled him from his trance and his head snapped into the direction it came from, all air leaving him when he saw you in the grip of a peacemaker.

He had locked his hand around your upper arm and was yanking you roughly towards them. "Thought she could hide", he roared with a laugh and the others joined in.

Coriolanus couldn't bring himself to join. Not even for show.

He was staring at your fearful face, the uncertainity behind your eyes mixing with defiance. "I don't know what you're accusing me of, but I didn't do anything", you stated and he noted with a hint of pride that your voice didn't waver.

That was his girl.

"Shut up or I'll make you!", the man growled and tightened his grip around you. Coriolanus could see the pain reflected on your face, but it gave way to shock and then disbelief as your gaze fell on him.

He couldn't do anything than stare at you, relieved to find you alive and unharmed after he had been witness to your desperate screams, but overwhelmed by his own powerlessness now.

Your eyes travelled his face and he saw a flicker of concern before it turned to an expression of betrayal and hurt.

He half expected an outlash, accusations or insults thrown his way, but you pressed your lips into a thin line, turning away your face. How easily you coud have hurt him now, but had chosen not to.

Interesting...

"Let's go!"

You were thrusted forward and he watched you stumble before you caught yourself again.

"I'll take her!" His own voice sounded far away and he was surprised that he had finally found it again. "We spend almost all night looking for her, I'll hande the rest."

The men exchanged glances. They were all tired, but bound by orders. Temptation fought hesitation and he prayed they would just let him have his way. He didn't want to kill them. It would be messy.

"Nice try, but I won't let you earn yourself all the praise."

With that they continued their way, but Coriolanus hadn't missed your attentive gaze on him. Maybe you finally understood the depths of his feelings.

That he would not let you walk to your own execution, even if all odds spoke against him. But what had he to loose?

Coriolanus waited until they passed another corner. It was late and the streets were empty, the people had gone to bed.

The poor electricty supply finally held an advantage, because there were no streetlamps to provide light and so not one of the other peacekepers noticed when he let his hand wander to his weapon, cautiously closing his fingers around it.

He had given them a chance, but they hadn't taken it.

The first two fell before the others had even noticed something was off. The shots were disturbingly loud in the quiet of the night and he knew he needed to act fast or he would be facing off against far more than just a troop of peacekeepers.

Would the men and women of the district be on his side? But what little could they do to help?

They stood no chance against their weapons, which could be fired more than a hundred times before they needed reloading.

It would be a bloodbath.

And he wasn't sure, if they wouldn't turn against him. In their eyes he was just a peacekeeper. It was all they would see when they looked at him.

As the other men turned he took out another one, but the man who held you in his grip swung you around, using your body as his shield before Coriolanus got the chance to aim his way.

"Lay down your weapon or I'll shoot her!", he yelled and raised his own weapon to press it against your temple.

You flinched, your eyes locked on Coriolanus. There was no fear in your eyes, only defeat and acceptance.

That only made it worse.

"The commander wants her alive. Now give her to me!", Coriolanus demanded, not even thinking about lowering his gun, but the man only narrowed his eyes in response.

"Traitor", he hissed, pressing your body closer to his, when your body suddenly went limp in his arms.

The moment the peacekeeper was distracted Coriolanus placed a bullet right between his eyebrows.

The shooting training had been useful at last.

Your eyes snapped open, confirming his assumption that you had faked the moment of weakness, and you staggered forward and away from the man who fell liveless to the ground.

Your gaze drifted over the dead peacekeepers and then to Coriolanus, shock and dread written all over your face.

"You killed them", you breathed, wavering once more. "You killed all of them."

Coriolanus stepped forward, his hands reaching out for yours. They were cold. Icy.

"I did what needed to be done", he said matter of factly, hiding his pride, because he knew you wouldn't appreicate it. But he had just taken out a number of well-trained men just by himself. Even you would have to admit it had been impressive.

In a shoot-out he wouldn't have stand a chance against them all, but they had underestimated him. Trusted him blindly. And they had paid for it.

You found his gaze, horror slowing fading into understanding. You nodded once, swallowing and straightening.

"I know", you whispered, "you saved my life."

All he wanted was to hold you and relish your skin on his. That he finally had you. That you were save. But there was no time for sentiment now.

"We need to leave."

You caught his gaze, your own questioning. "Where should we go? They will search the whole district for us and-", understanding crossed your face, "you mean you will run away with me?"

He took a breath and nodded. "It's the only choice."

You looked at him, your eyes searching for something he didn't know he could give you. But he could give you his love and devotion. It seemed enough for you, because you squeezed his hands and straightened your shoulders.

"Then it's my pleasure Coriolanus Snow."

"And it's mine."

You didn't let go of his hand as you turned and ran through the streets of the district and towards the line of trees.

Never would he have imagined this to be his fate as he had seen your face on the capitol's tv during the reaping. But he knew you would find a way, together.

Some day you might even tell your children about this. About a love that had ruined his life and rebuild it, stripped him bare and led him to his innermost, darkest parts.

And the birds lining the branches of the trees would be witness to it.

To your every word.

Tags:

PERMANENT

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[melolord14]

I Told You So

Lady Dimitrescu x fem reader

Note: So, I've been thinking about this idea for ages and I just couldn't get it out of my head. I couldn't resist - "Good Luck Babe" by Chappell Roan and it has been stuck in my head for so long that I had to write something. With the polls I had out y’all choose Lady Dimitrescu. Masterlist

The grand halls of Castle Dimitrescu were eerily silent as you wandered through them, the moonlight filtering through the tall, arched windows casting long shadows on the marble floors. The air was thick with an ancient, almost tangible melancholy that seemed to seep from the very walls. Alcina thought she had made the right decision about marrying her husband. She thought by doing so she would get the approval of her parents and their love, but it didn’t. The echoes of her footsteps were the only sound that accompanied her, a lonely rhythm in the vast, empty corridors.

Alcina remembered the times she had in her younger years, the carefree days filled with laughter and dreams that now seemed so distant. The haunting melody of a song echoed in her mind, each line a painful reminder of the choices she had made. The song's words wrapped around her heart like a cold, unrelenting grip, refusing to let go.

"When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night," she had woken up in the middle of the night and looked at the clock on her wall. The room was bathed in a soft, silvery glow from the moonlight streaming through the window. She carefully got up so as not to wake her husband and looked at him. He lay there, oblivious to her turmoil, his presence a constant reminder of her regrets. She didn’t know how he ended up in her bed in her room but he did. “With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife.” Putting her head in her hands, she felt the cool metal ring on her face and pulled her head out of her hands to look at it with sadness. The ring, once a symbol of love and promise, now felt like a shackle. All she was to her husband was a possession and nothing more. She owned the castle he lived in and acted like he owned it.

The nights were long and lonely, filled with a sense of emptiness that she could never quite shake. The silence of the castle was oppressive, pressing down on her like a physical weight. The grand rooms, once filled with joy and life, now felt like a prison. Each corner of the castle held memories of a life that could have been, a life that was now out of reach.

But here, in the castle, things were different. The walls that once offered protection now seemed to close in on her, suffocating her with their cold indifference. The chandeliers, with their flickering candlelight, cast eerie shadows that danced mockingly on the walls. The portraits of her ancestors seemed to watch her with judgmental eyes, their silent reproach a constant reminder of her failures.

As she wandered through the halls, Alcina felt a deep, aching loneliness. The grandeur of the castle, with its opulent decorations and lavish furnishings, only served to highlight the void in her heart. She longed for the warmth of genuine love, the kind of love that could fill the emptiness inside her. But all she had were the cold, unfeeling walls of Castle Dimitrescu and the haunting melody of a song that echoed endlessly in her mind.

“And when you think about me, all of those years ago, you're standing face to face with 'I told you so.'" The voice rang in her head. The memory of you begging her not to marry him and stay with you, to build a life together away from people and away from her parents but she had refused. You had warned her about the life she was choosing, about the man she was marrying. But she hadn't listened. She had been young and naive and didn’t want to let down her parents, thinking maybe they would approve of her after she got married. Now, as she wandered the empty hall of the castle, the weight of her choices bore down on her.

The grand tapestries that adorned the walls seemed to mock her with their depictions of happier times, scenes of love and joy that now felt like cruel reminders of what she had lost. The flickering candlelight cast long, wavering shadows, creating an almost ghostly ambiance that made her feel even more isolated. Each step she took echoed through the vast, empty corridors, a lonely sound that mirrored the emptiness inside her heart.

Standing in front of your door, she hesitated to knock. Her hand hovered in the air, trembling with uncertainty. She lifted her hand to knock and stopped, her heart pounding in her chest. The silence of the night was deafening, and she could hear the faint rustle of the wind outside the castle walls. Finally, she pulled out enough courage to do so, her knuckles barely making a sound against the heavy wooden door. She didn’t know if you were up, but she had to see you, had to try and find some solace in the one person who had always understood her.

You couldn't fall asleep after all these years she had been married. You still loved her, the ache in your heart a constant reminder of the life you had once dreamed of together. The nights were long and restless, filled with thoughts of what could have been. When you heard the knock at your door, you wondered who it could be. Knocking in the middle of the night was unusual, and a sense of unease settled over you as you got up from your bed.

Opening your door, you found yourself standing face to face with Alcina. Her eyes were filled with a mix of sorrow and regret, her once confident demeanor now replaced with a vulnerability that took you by surprise. The air between you was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. The sight of her standing there, so close yet so distant, stirred a whirlwind of feelings within you.

"Alcina," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet of the night. The years of separation seemed to melt away in that moment, leaving only the raw, unfiltered emotions that had been buried for so long. The castle, with all its grandeur and opulence, faded into the background as you stood there, face to face with the woman you had never stopped loving.

You looked at Alcina and said the words you had spoken to her years ago when she had first told you about her marriage even though you two were together. You looked at her with sadness and understanding. “You know I hate to say, 'I told you so,'" you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of regret. "But I told you so."

Alcina gazed at you with a mix of sorrow and longing, her eyes welling up with tears as she tenderly reached out to gently cradle your face. "I understand," she murmured softly. "I wish things could have been different." With a heartfelt embrace, she drew you close.

"It's alright, Alcina. You followed your heart," you reassured her with a bittersweet smile, holding her tightly. "I’m leaving," you revealed.

Alcina nodded sadly, withdrawing from the embrace. "But why?" Her voice quivered, barely audible, filled with a blend of fear and anguish.

"I can't bear to stay here any longer. It pains me to see you with him, Alcina. My love for you remains, making it unbearable to witness you with him," you expressed quietly as you turned away, walking towards the balcony. The frigid night air stung your skin, and the stars overhead seemed to jeer at your suffering with their distant, indifferent glimmer.

Following you, Alcina's soft footsteps echoed softly against the stone floor. "I understand. I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry. I should have listened to you that day, but I..." Alcina's voice faltered, her words breaking as she struggled to articulate her emotions. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the moonlight.

You turned around and pulled her into an embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against yours despite the chill in the air. “Alcina, I love you. I will always love you,” you told her, your voice filled with a mixture of love and heartache. She held you closer, and you felt her shoulders shake as she began to cry, her tears soaking into your shirt.

Alcina managed to relax and tell you, “I love you too. I’ve always loved you,” she finally said after all those years. Her voice was raw with emotion, each word a testament to the depth of her feelings. How could she forget her first love?

You stood there together, the world around you fading into the background. The castle walls seemed to close in, creating an intimate cocoon where only the two of you existed. The night was silent except for the sound of Alcina’s quiet sobs and the steady beat of your heart. In that moment, you both understood that love, no matter how complicated or painful, was the one constant that had always connected you.

“Perhaps in a another universe, we could be united," you whispered gently. "Yet, across every lifetime, I would seek you out, and I will forever be yours, for I, Y/N L/N, belong to you, Alcina.” Alcina held you tighter as you spoke these words to her.

Alcina gazed lovingly into your eyes and whispered, "And I belong to you, Draga mea. I am yours and always have been." Her bittersweet smile hinted at the depths of her emotions. Holding you close, she knew that this moment would mark the end. She harbored a secret hope that in another lifetime, you would belong to her and her alone, just as she would belong to you.

[sircantus]

OOOOO the dark sbi one sounds fun! Are there any other wips that is dark sbi?

Anyways I am VERY interested in Yoink the identity one please do share🙏

Funny you say that bc yoink the identity is also a dark sbi au!! Kinda. Its actually just more of a horror au if anything (but also yeah a couple of the aus there have got dark elements i cant remember which tho my memory of them only activates when i focus on one)

anyhow that wip is about a shapeshifter au in which wilbur and Phil are supposed to have their weekly dinner night together, but then Wil gets a call with Phil panicking and screaming on the other end, telling him to rush over to his apartment. Wilbur goes over thinking something horrible happened, but when he gets there Phil has no idea what Wil is talking about with the phone call and he seems entirely fine.

They kinda go on with their dinner night but Phil keeps really odd, not quite getting details in the conversation right, seeming lost in his own house, ect. Wilbur ends up hearing a weird noise and sneaks off to investigate to find actual Phil locked in a closet.

To where he then realizes he was not talking with the real Phil and something is seriously fucked up here. They both sneak around the apartment trying to avoid the not Phil thing, who realizes actual Phil got out and starts to try to lure them out by mimicking their voices (it keeps calling for Phil in wilburs voice, “Phil? Phil, whered you go?” And then it switches to Phils voice screaming for help, which makes Wilbur just keep looking at real Phil desperately trying to reassure himself the noise isnt real)

They end up escaping the apartment and calling Techno, their mutual buddy, for help, but then the shapeshifter starts following them outside and they’re running across the empty streets in the middle of the night to try and lose it. Techno eventually finds them and nearly runs them over, and then proceeds to try purposely running the shapeshifter over upon seeing it come around the corner, looking like Phil but with everything about him seeming just Wrong. (Eyes glinting too hard, his walk stumbling too much, the voice from his mouth still being Wilburs-) so sbi is in the car now. Techno hits the thing with his car. They check to see if they killed it, and they watch as the shapeshifter tries to then turn into a kid, but still clinging onto Phils features, so then it just looks like a kid version of Phil (tommy!! Yays)

Its then crying about getting hit with a car and mimicking all their voices interchangeably to ask for help, and Techno is about to get back in the car to run it over a second time!! Only for Phil to stop him bc he wants to know what the heck the shapeshifter is even trying to do. Here is where i lose the plot a bit but i think from there on it would be cool for the three of them to argue amongst themselves over if they should be pitying a monster thing, not noticing Tommy getting closer until he’s right next to them and he’s taken Technos form and voice to try and join their conversation. This somehow results in them realizing he’s really not that harmful. Family dynamics

The thing is “Tommy” is meant to be a very naive type of shapeshifter who doesnt really have a grasp on humans, and he took Phils place first bc he heard about the dinner and he wanted to meet Wil. And then he sees Techno and how Phil and Wilbur talk with him and thats why he turns into a Techno. He also turns young when hes hurt bc he recognizes that humans treat their young gently. Its a neat concept! Alas its also a wip. I have no idea where the family dynamics will form but by god theyre gonna be somewhere

Also its called yoink the identity bc obviously tommy shapeshifter took phils place for a second there haha

[gojosrighteyebrow69]

Not what it seems

Isagi Yoichi × Fem!Reader

SMUT 18+

Where the guy you just met at a mixer party, was not what he seemed like

🔞NSFW🔞 alcohol consumption, oral f!receiving, vaginal fingering

'This is fun!' You thought as you find yourself in a mixer party with few of your college friends. At first it seemed like a bad idea, Going to a party to meet bunch of dudes? But it in the end, it wasn't so bad.

Sounds of laughter and glasses clattering was all you could hear as your eyes were fixed to the raven haired boy sitting by the window. He hadn't said much, or drank at all. He looked like a timid and nice guy. Which was exactly your type.

As the party got over, people left in pairs to go hookup. Which left you in a drunken state next to the raven haired boy.

"You drunk?" He asked in his deep husky voice

"A bit" You replied as you observed his face. He was rather handsome which was making your face heat up.

"I saw you staring at me earlier" He smirks, his gaze piercing yours.

"Oh I was? I'm sorry" You seriously didn't know what to say to him. His attractive looks were making you weak in your knees.

"Nah its okay. You like the food?" He says as he watches you gobble down the food.

"Um yeah, its good" Your drunken state was making it difficult to keep the conversation going with this handsome young man Infront of you.

You didn't knew how, but somehow you both instantly clicked. After conversing him for almost an hour, you got to know he was actually a famous footballer!

His timid and reserved demeanor made you feel at ease, That's why when he offered you a ride home, you accepted without any second thoughts.

"Do you often let guys drive you back home?" Yoichi asks as he starts his car.

"Oh no, its the first time" You smile at him while wearing the seatbelt.

"What if I was a Dangerous guy?" He chuckles as he drives the car on the empty road.

"A Dangerous man would never say that. I think you're more of that type who'll protect me from a dangerous guy" You didn't even knew what you were saying due to the amount of alcohol you had consumed, all you knew that Isagi Yoichi looked insanely hot while driving a car.

He only replies with a chuckle. You couldn't help but keep glancing at him time to time as he drove and spun around the steering wheel. He had long fingers, you noticed. Unholy thoughts were filling your head, and you kept blaming the Alcohol.

"We're here" He looks at you with his seductive eyes as he stops the car Infront of your apartment. Before you could say anything, he was out of the car, opening the door for you and helping you out of the car. What a Gentlemen, you thought.

You thanked him with big smile and lead him up the stairs to your apartment. "Would you like a cup of tea? I wanna thank you for driving me back" You cheerfully walked to the front of your door and turned around to face him.

His eyes, seemed different, like they were clouded something.

"If you were any sweeter, It would worry me" He held your chin with his finger, making you look into his eyes.

Before you could reply, his lips were on yours. And in a matter of seconds, you were kissing Isagi Yoichi.

His lips were warm and soft, you didn't knew what was happening, but you found yourself exchanging hot kisses with him by the door of your apartment.

He had your back pressed up against the door as he devoured you lips, his hand trailing down to unbutton the front of your dress.

"Such a Naive girl, you should't just trust guys like that" His kisses trailed down your neck to your collarbone while his hand worked on the buttons of your dress. "Especially the quiet ones" He looked deeply into your eyes, with his finger caressing your bottom lip.

Your mind was too drunk and clouded with lust to even form a reply You just let him do what he wanted, as you felt arousal pool in your panties.

"Are you really that innocent?" He finishes unbuttoning the front of your dress and pull down your bra, exposing your breasts to the cold air. "Or are you just pretending?" You let out a gasp as you feel his lips latching onto your nipple, while he squeezes the other breast harder.

His thumbs grazed over your nipples, teasing them gently, and he could feel them hardening under his touch. He lowered his head, his lips brushing against the other nipple, teasing it. His tongue flicked out, tracing circles around the sensitive bud, and he groaned low in pleasure.

He suckled on your nipple, his tongue wrapping around it, and he savored the taste of you. Your breast filled his mouth, and he moaned around it, his hand kept squeezing the ther breast, massaging it gently.

His hand slowly trailed down your dress, pressing his fingers onto your clit and rubbing it through your panties. "So wet, you really aren't that innocent are you?"

"I knew you weren't, when the moment you looked at me with those eyes" He held your cheeks with his fingers, slowly pushing you inside the apartment and closing the door behind.

"You looked at me like you wanted me to devour your" He held you by your hips, lifting you up and making you sit on the nearby cabinet.

"So I'm gonna do just that" He pushed you back on the cabinet, spreading your legs wider.

Your face was burning as he pushed your panties down to your ankles, your glistening folds on full view.

"Let's get you comfortable, yeah?" He gave you a dirty smirk and lowered his head, kissing your inner thigh, his lips trailing up to your pussy. He licked his lips, his tongue flicking out, tasting your wetness.

You couldn't believe that a man that you just met only a few hours ago had his mouth of you, and was making you feel like you just ascended to heaven.

His tongue darted out again, tracing circles around your clit, feeling you twitch in response. He couldn't hold back anymore, sucking your clit gently, his tongue flicking against it. Your juices coated his face, the taste of you filling his mouth. He couldn't get enough, his tongue darting out to lap it up, his cheeks flushing with desire.

You tangled your fingers through his hair while covering your eyes to avoid looking at the sight of the stranger devouring you on the cabinet.

His fingers slipped inside you, feeling your wetness, your walls tightening around him. "Nuh-uh, come on now. Look at me princess, I'll stop if you won't" He teases his tongue on your clit, looking up into your eyes.

Your face feels like it's burning as you look down at him, and find his eyes looking directly back at you as he worked his fingers and tongue on you. Just the sight of it makes you cum instantly, your juices flooding his mouth.

He licked up every drop of your juices, savoring the taste "That's it... cum for me..." he growled, his voice deep and husky.

He then pulls away, his lips and chin wet from your juices. "You taste sweet, just like I expected" He licks his lips and looks into your eyes.

"Now don't go around trusting guys like that. You shouldn't be so kind and naive, this is how guys take advantage of you" He says while petting your head.

"And don't forget to lock the door" He pecks your lips and walks out of the door, leaving you sitting on the cabinet, dumbfounded about the whole experience.

'What just happened?' You think to yourself.

A/N - Hey guys! Sorry for disappearing. I'm back now and will probably be writing more. This work is heavily inspired by a manga a read recently. Thankyou for reading!

[satorusfelicity]

recollections ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

gojo x fem!reader

word count: 788

a/n: decided to practice my writing (bc I honestly suck at it) by writing fanfics!

“Can’t you stay a little longer?” Satoru asks, although he already knows the answer. He always knew the both of you would end up here sooner or later; you did too, and so did everyone else. After all, life was only fair to its favorites.

“You know I can’t.” Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, glossy eyes trying to meet his, but he doesn’t dare to meet your face.

The people around you two are too busy having other places to be to notice the young lovers under a sign that leaves people like them with hollow, empty hearts.

“We’ll see each other again,” you promise, your thumb dancing around his wrist, trying to cheer him up. However, the white-haired sorcerer shows no hint of comfort from the action.

“And when would that be?” he asks, tears brimming in his eyes. He knew they'd end up like this. He saw this coming. But he was not the slightest bit prepared.

Maybe he was being selfish, Satoru thought. Because although you had a pain-stricken face, he also knows you need this; he knows that you two have to part ways. You’re selfish too, he deems in his head, dragging him along all these months knowing the outcome. Maybe if he wrote you as the villain in his novel, it’d hurt less.

You laugh as if it would help brighten the mood. Grabbing his face with both of your hands, you softly say, “It’ll be okay, 'Toru.”

And he nods, not having it in himself to say anything else. Thankfully, the universe decides to go easy on him as his lover takes this as her cue to leave.

Time has passed since he last saw you. Your voice is nothing more than an echo in his mind, and your smile, one he once knew all too well, still flashes in his head now and then.    

Everything seems to pass so quickly around him, but it’s as if his legs are frozen; he can't go anywhere else, forced to relive moments in his life he longs to forget. 

Maybe, he says to himself, maybe the universe isn’t going easy on me after all. 

His mind recalls the glances he stole before you two started dating and the awkward yet warming first couple of dates that happened not long after. Of course, in order to ask you out, he had to confess first. A chuckle almost leaves his lips as the projector in his head replays the moment you laughed after he confessed his feelings and how his body froze, realizing he was naive for thinking that you’d reciprocate his feelings. At that time, he didn’t know you laughed because you found his nervousness endearing. He knows this now because of the countless nights spent in your apartment, ordering takeout instead of reserving a table at the new five-star restaurant he promised to take you to one day. He’d take in the way your lips parted as his predictions played out on the screen in front of you two, only for his laughter to ring out in the apartment once he admitted to watching the movie the other night. That wasn’t the only secret shared on nights spent like this. With your head against Satoru’s shoulder and the credits playing in the background, you and him would retell the words written on the pages of your own youth and pour out what had you pacing at 2 in the morning.

The sorcerer's mind begins to wander further into the forest of recollection until the sound of his name halts him. Blinking himself out of his trance, he takes in his surroundings; the sound of footsteps coming from one retail store to another reminds him of where he is. Slowly, he turns around and sees you. 

Just like a scene from a movie, the world slows down as you make your way towards him, hands rubbing on the fabric of your jeans, a habit you often do whenever the nerves kick in. Finally reaching him, a small smile paints your face as you lift your head to get a better look at him. His mouth dries as his eyes dance around your face. 

“I’m sorry I took so long,” you break the silence.

It takes a moment for him to respond, but his eyes soften, and he says, “It’s okay.” 

He would never blame you for anything. 

The two of you stare at each other for a moment until he decides to wrap an arm around your shoulder with a playful smile. Walking down the hall, he guides you to the center of the mall, rambling about a dress he saw on display, leaving the sign of the women’s restroom behind.

I love my silly little drama queen sobsob

[dukeofdelirium]

I saw this anti-Kataang post saying Katara is 14 going on 25 and Aang is 12 going on 8. And honestly this really pissed me off, the invalidation of Aang’s trauma and the adultification of Katara honestly grosses me out. It’s such a shameful mischaracterization and flanderization of both characters. Zutara stans like these are such fake fans, they don’t care about the show, they don’t care about Katara just their own fanfic version of Katara they can project onto.

https://www.tumblr.com/linnoya-writes/708121534055759872/kataang-but-its-only-a-2-year-age-difference?source=share

imma be real this is the weirdest shit I ever read 😭

“Aang plays with Momo while the other kids drink TEA like sophisticated ADULTS and play GAMES that require CRITICAL THOUGHT !!!! REEEEE”

Aang knows how to play pai sho…… we literally saw him playing it in book 1 episode 12: The Storm…. Fuckin moron @ OP 🤦🏻‍♂️

Also the weird commenting on what Aang would theoretically know about genitalia and sex is … odd…. And it’s also so strange to me that people think Aang would be some naive idiot who knows nothing about the world let alone about sex at his age.

The air nomads were very sexually open in ways that none of the other cultures are in ATLA. This is canon. They were a sexually free people, lol. So saying that Aang would have no concept of these things because he’s too “immature” to know about it is not aligning with what we know of his people and culture. We also know that Katara and Aang married and had a child together when they were pretty young, so… this whole argument is so strange lmao. Adding onto this, Aang traveled the world and frequently at that and we can assume he did so solo. He had way more life experience and knowledge by the age of 12 than Katara or Sokka combined, who had never even set foot outside their village. If any of these two characters is naive about sexuality and all it encompasses, it would in fact be Katara…. Who grew up in a village without men aside from her brother… lol. Aang traveled everywhere, he probably was friends with plenty of girls and I’m sure Katara wasn’t his first kiss, either given these facts.

Their argument is “Aang doesn’t know about female anatomy” which is implying he is unfit to date her on the grounds he couldn’t “please” her. However, as I already showed, this would very likely not be the case given Aang’s culture and people and everything we know of his life pre iceberg.

If anyone doesn’t know about sex and genitalia, it would be Katara. 100%. She literally grew up in an isolated village with no males aside from her brother. She would have virtually no concept of male puberty or male anatomy. Lol. So what’s the argument here? Is Katara now “unfit” for Aang because she grew up isolated from men? See how easy that was to flip their bullshit? 😭

And no, the point isn’t whether he knows or not, OP. The only reason anyone is considering this in the first place is because you argued the point. Yknow, because normal people don’t rlly think about this in regards to cartoon characters.

It’s honestly so bizarre to me how ppl act like Aang is the naive, stupid and sheltered child in the show when in reality, Aang was already self sufficient as a 12 year old. He traveled, cooked for himself and cared for himself during said travels, he knew of other cultures intimately, he knew a lot of history, he was already a master of his native element, etc…. That doesn’t sound like a naive child to me. Aang doesn’t act silly and goof off because he’s stupid. It’s both an aspect of his carefree personality and also a conscious choice and coping mechanism from trauma and grief and survivors guilt.

And anyway, Katara thinks of Aang’s carefree nature in a very positive light. She likes this about him.

I’m also never gonna understand the argument of “she grew up in war” as if Aang didn’t fight alongside her in that very war as a kid, too. Yeah, he had 12 years before that, but who gives a fuck? He also suffered far more loss than Katara or anyone for that matter, and that is objective fact.

[avirael]

The Price of Failure

“Seven hells, A‘viloh! Open the damn door right now! I am worried about you, you idiot!”

After Haurchefant’s death the Miqo’te had locked himself up in a room at the Forgotten Knight and had barely spoken to anyone at all these last few days.

Go away - This is all my fault - They must hate me so - Stay away from me - I don’t want you to get hurt too.

With this and similar sentences, which Rael had day by day only heard muffled through the closed door, A’viloh had tried to get rid of them. Rael had expected the Miqo’te to blame himself for what had happened, they had even understood that A’viloh in his bizarre sense of self-loathing had decided to leave Fortemp Manor to not cause anyone any more pain. Anyone except himself of course.

Once again Rael felt so powerless seeing how A’viloh apparently saw all his fears confirmed, that as soon as he was involved in something, everything would eventually go horribly wrong and people would get hurt. Of course that was nonsense. But with the “evidence” at hand - and the poor Miqo’te really was a pretty unlucky fellow in this regard - it was also quite difficult to argue against it.

Seemingly he had also stopped letting Rael convince him of the opposite as they usually had so far. At least he had still talked to them. Through closed doors, but at least he had not ignored Rael entirely in another attempt to drive them away.

Well, not until today…

Another time Rael’s fist loudly drummed against the door.

“I swear, if you don’t open this damn door right now, I will break it down!”

Maybe getting angry at him was not going to encourage him any more than politely asking had but by now Rael’s patience reached its end.

“You are looking for the young Miqo’te, who’s living here since a few days, don’t you?”, a voice asked and Rael turned around to find the owner of the inn standing at the end of the corridor. “I saw you two together with mistress Tataru before.”

“I am.”, Rael confirmed and tried to look a little less like some hooligan about to trash the inn and attack its guests. “I am just worried about him…”

“Mhhh…”, the Elezen made a contemplating sound. “Well, all I can tell you is that your friend left a few hours ago and hasn’t returned since.”

“Left?!”, Rael blurted out, while their mind began to race. “To where?”

“That I don’t know, I am sorry…”, the man apologised.

It may have looked impolite but Rael left in a hurry without another word. Barely back outside they paused and realised that Ishgard was too big to just aimlessly run around and look for him. But where could he have gone?

At First Rael hurried to the chocobo stables. Somehow they had hoped to find him here cuddled to the bird Haurchefant had gifted him. It had been a naive hope, that of course proved wrong.

Then they ran to the city gates asking the guards if they had seen a person fitting A’viloh’s description leave the city and after that they did the same at the airship landing. Both times unsuccessful.

By now the sun, that had spent most of the day hidden by thick grey clouds, was slowly surrendering her last weak rays of light to the darkness of night. The lack of light would make searching even more difficult and Rael was out of ideas. Where else would A’viloh go?, they wondered when one last horrible idea crossed their mind.

As fast as Rael could they hurried back to the upper parts of the city, where at its highest point stood one of the most important places in town: The Vault.

The place where Haurchefant had been killed while trying to protect A‘viloh.

In a way it would be just like A’viloh to return here, if only to inflict more pain on himself and punish himself in the process. However as Rael walked towards the tall building they noticed the entrance had been sealed with a barrier and additionally a guard was stationed in front, informing Rael that the building remained closed for now due to ongoing investigations of the happenings around Thordan and his knights.

The guard hadn’t seen any Miqo’te around either and so Rael began to wonder what to do now. They could return to Fortemps Manor and ask Alphinaud and Tataru for help. Maybe even Artoirel and Emmanellain. Or go to the headquarters of the Temple Knights and speak to Ser Aymeric. Although every soldier in the city searching for A‘viloh possibly was a little exaggerated, this idea began to look more and more tempting to Rael with every passing minute. There was a nervousness inside their heart, a bad feeling, that was getting worse and worse with every passing second.

Rael had just walked down the first set of stairs when suddenly something in the cold night air changed. A strong breeze picked up, wind howling through the streets like a ghost. Feeling the strangeness of this sudden change Rael looked up to the night sky, where for a second they thought they saw the form of a bird circling in front of the glimmer of stars.

Then they blinked and it was gone. A shiver ran down Rael‘s spine. The feeling familiar but nonetheless in this case strangely unsettling, they gasped and almost stumbled. Their vision blurred for a moment and their eyes turned milky white, as Rael‘s mind was forcefully pulled away by a sudden vision.

Rael found themself standing on a square somewhere in Ishgard. It seemed familiar and Rael thought they recognised it from somewhere near Fortemps Manor. The air felt unreasonably chilling even through their warm clothes and Rael only slowly adjusted to the feeling of having a vision after none of them had shown up for so long.

Then Rael saw A’viloh.

There he stood, only a few steps away, at the edge of the square, where the higher parts of the city bordered onto the vast, foggy nothingness of the Holy Sea. But the Miqo’te’s tear-stained gaze was not focused on the bottomless depth below, but on the moon and the stars above.

This world… wouldn’t it be better off without me in it? No one would miss me at all…

A‘viloh did not say this aloud but Rael heard his voice just as clearly as if he had spoken instead of just thought it. It made Rael’s blood freeze in their veins.

Like petrified they watched A’viloh slowly raising his arms as if they were wings, like a bird that wanted to take flight.

Just that he wasn’t flying.

He was falling.

In an unnaturally slow motion he tilted forward, falling into the abyss and while Rael began to scream he was already gone.

[biggestsimp12]

Hi could I request the toy animatronics interacting with a young child reader that gets left behind after closing?

{Hi! Sorry for the late response, I had some health problems lately and couldn't bring myself out of the laziness and fatigue to write. But I'm all better now and ready to write! So here it is! ^^}

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Child Reader who gets left behind x toy animatronics! (+puppet)

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You were simply a mere child, whose parents left you at a friend's birthday party in the famous Pretty smart to leave your child alone in a strangers supervision, right? Not. For some reason, your friends decided it was a good idea to play hide and seek, just before closing time. Of course, you found the most phenomenal spot to hide, which was behind puppets music box. It was rather naive of you, to think someone will actually search for there. That's why you hid there on the first place. Time flies by, yet slowly but surely, less and less voices could be heard around. It was rather strange, but you, the determined kid who loved to win on hide and seek remained curled up in a ball, dead silent with a small grin on your face, falsely believing that you will eventually get pinpointed by your friends and go home as the winner of hide and seek. Your grin quickly vanished off your face when the lights went out, leaving you baffled. As the night sky gets darker, you ducked out of your hiding spot and started looking around the now empty pizzeria, feeling alone and frightened. You were the only one left behind and locked in after all their friends had gone home. The sound of the animatronic characters' movements is unnerving and you feel vulnerable being alone in this place. You start to walk around the pizzeria, hoping to find a way out. Suddenly, the remaining lights go out and you are left in total darkness, the sound of the animatronics' movements echoing in the empty pizzeria. You curled up into a ball as you sat on the cold tiled floor, sobbing uncontrollably whilst shaking. Out of the blue, sounds of metallic steps could be made out, as if they were approaching you. An animatronic with a pair of glowing green eyes stepped past you, heading towards the rather noisy vent, as if it had abnormal ideas of whereabouts. Watching a little, you realised it was one of the toy animatronics, none other than Toy Bonnie. You hesitantly walked up to him, pulling on his artificial fluffy tail. The animatronics' head twisted in your direction, emanating some sounds as if it was scanning you.

"H-hello mr bon bon... Can you help me find my parents? My friends left me here alone.. Do you think they will come back?"

You wistfully stated, looking at the animatronic with those innocent pleading eyes. You weren't sure if he was going to hurt you or even understand you for that matter. Before anything could occur, a black slender palm was placed over your head, making you flinch slightly. Your gaze moved to the slender figure, which was the indistinguishable, Puppet. It's minimal glowing orbs were gazing over you, as if asking you to trust it. The puppet was one to always frighten you but for some reason, it just felt right to trust it right now, as no one else was currently there for you. It lightly scooped you in its long arms, carrying you to the other toy animatronics. Like magic, the animatronics turned on, all gazing towards you. The puppet kindly placed you down, leaving you to play with the toy animatronics. Toy chica brought you a real cupcake, feeding it to you while Toy freddy was singing to you and toy Bonnie was making rather silly poses for you. It only cheered you a little bit, though it was nicer than being alone, even though you could only see their glowing orbs. Just as your sobs died down, a sound of the security camera was heard and it's flashlight turned on, making you squint your eyes. Not even a second later, running footsteps were creeping out of the halls as a security guard rushed to you, freaking out to why was a literal child at almost 1 a.m in the freaking pizzeria?! After lots and lots of questioning, (and lots of unresponsive calls)

the security guard finally managed to contact your parents, which were very upset with your friends "responsibility" (as if theirs was any better)

Long story short, you were never ever going to a party without a capable family member ever again and that friends' parents weren't throwing poorly supervised parties anytime soon..

———––--

The end

{have a good day/night :)}

[lsdoiphin]

Hares, as you may already know if you've been following my better half @broncoburro or @forevergoldgame (if you're following neither, you're missing huge amounts of context for the setting!), are nothing like the hares of the real world. They are massive leporids from Northern Vestur and one of the few meurian animals remaining after a historic event known as the Great Hunt where humans wiped out most of the planet's remaining meurian species in order to harvest their meur for relics about 350~ish years ago. They are obligate carnivores and known to hunt humans when the opportunity arises.

The baku is a large, lumbering omnivore with a similar ecological niche somewhere between a panda and a regular bear. They're a rare species, endemic to a single far-flung region of the world, having only just barely escaped extinction. See, while the Great Hunt was headed and funded by the Tri-Kingdom, its reach spanned the entire known world - but the further from Vestur it travelled, the less discriminatory the hunts became. The local peoples who were paid to hunt on the Tri-Kingdom's behalf had little idea of what meur was and what meurian animals were actually useful, leading to mass to mass culling of "useless" meur-touched animals like the baku, whose unusual sleep-inducing abilities cannot be wielded by humans. Regardless of their uselessness, the damage had been done to the species, and only the mundane offshoot survives - though rumors persist about meurian baku.

Sphinxes are scavengers that can be found across the deserts and savannas of the mainland. Unlike their meurian cousin, the manticore, they never evolved meurian flame breath, and their 'stinger' is no more than a vestigial sickle buried beneath the fur of their flowing tails. Instead, they specialized further into human mimicry, using their ability to copy human speech to hunt domesticated animals, naive children, and drunkards.

Now you might be thinking: "why would a teenage girl want to own any of these as pets? None of these sound like animals that should be pets." Well, first off: you'd be hard pressed to find a young girl that doesn't want a wolf or a tiger as a pet, that's just how they are, c'mon.

Second, there are three primary reasons Rhea thinks this is a more realistic idea than it is:

Exotic "pet" owners among the upper class: While exotic pet ownership isn't big in Vestur as a whole, it has a notable presence among the Southern upper class, both noble and common. Rhea is the duchess of the Southern Kingdom so she is well aware of every instance of somebody paying excessive amounts of guilder to import something they shouldn't and stick it in their courtyard. As I've mentioned before, this is a sin Ancha is guilty of, having gotten swept up in a past "teacup baku" craze/scam some 4 decades ago. Unlike her peers, however, she kept her baku, Fig, even after he outgrew his alleged "adult size" of 1'9" at the withers. Others culled theirs once they became large enough to cause mass property damage. Ancha knows Fig is a massive, terrifying wild animal and does not recommend anyone repeat her mistake, but being raised in captivity he cannot be returned to the wild and so she's committed to caring for him for as long of his estimated 70~ish year lifespan that she's here for.

Haretouched Northerners: The "haretouched" is a strange phenomenon that exists in the North. Now, we haven't posted a formal explanation of what exactly being haretouched means yet - I'll save that explanation for Dan to write at a later date. In the meantime, to very briefly summarize what it means: occasionally, a hare will bond with a specific human. Those who have bonded to a hare are said to be "haretouched" - or more bluntly, cursed. The haretouched are treated as pariahs by broader society, though they are begrudgingly tolerated in the North itself and destigmatized by Northern nomad clans. While Northern nobility has done its best to keep the haretouched out of their bloodlines (save for the Lord of the Nomads, who is seldom acknolwedged, much less counted), occasionally a fluke will occur regardless and you end up with someone like Quincy or Lamonte. Rhea, of course, is just a Southern bystander who thinks the idea of having a murder-bunny for a friend would kick ass.

Captive beasts performing in circuses: Self-explanatory. Sphinxes especially are a popular choice for exploitative entertainment because of their mimicry abilities, and are often trained to have "conversations" or "sing."

[buzzkillers]

A little of you, A little of Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Warning: non-con, power unbalance, implied smut, emotional manipulation, fuck or die (?)

He said it was a canon event. He was obviously lying. 

Not like that mattered, in the grand scheme of things anyway. Everyone lied to you here, no one thought you were worthy of the truth. This wasn't your world after all and this wasn't your New York. So the rules were just a bit different, a little off.

You couldn't get a pass by just being you.

Nah, you were a played out parlor trick. Something that's been copied and pasted into far too many universes and dimensions. You weren't special. Your name might've not been Peter Parker but that wasn't enough.

You needed to be more. You needed to have something. Anything that would impress Miguel enough to see you as a threat; as someone not worth lying to.

Outside of that, what was there to say? You were just a variant.

Another younger spider person that life hadn’t trampled on yet in your attempt at a normal life. You weren't Ben Reilly or Jessica or that miniature spider from Earth 6-877. And if you wanted to be nice (which was rare) you'd say that your purpose was to look like you had purpose. Like you had any business being here at all.

Just someone to look at Miguel so he could rant and whine about anomalies and dimensional pockets as if any of that sounded sane.

Yet, against your will, you fell in line all the same. Under his gaze, your back straightened and your heart beated erratically while you at least pretended to listen. You had no other choice really. Blame it on being young, or a spider or simply being too naive to see the bad in good.

But when someone with enough confidence, bravado and well everything that made Miguel who he was, said something. It was almost to easy to listen to him, it was practically expected. What else were you going to do? Be stubborn, selfish? Ignorant?

Maybe that’s why Miguel O’hara terrified you. 

You knew he was lying but you couldn’t help but listen anyway. In the grand scheme of things he was good at that. With precision and brute strength, he strung together a web of lies and sticky fibs that made you unable to leave. ‘Your canon event’ he had whispered to you in the darkness of his lair. (Cause what else would you call an office with only a computer as its light source) 

He had said it so smoothly, so easily; With open arms and eyes wide enough to hide the glimmer of red sheeted underneath it. There was no light show this time, no complicated holograms of the dead parents and the venom symbiotes or the constant blood and death and lost children, no it was just him.

And somehow that was way worse, way more horrific and ankle biting for someone like you.

After all, Miguel was the world, the universe and you were just this thing. This small, crushable thing that backed away and flinched when he took a step too close.

Who couldn’t hide the panicked breaths and syrupy heat that pooled in your stomach. You were nothing beneath the man that created it all. It was a fact that made your ears stay perked up beneath the mask. You were you and he was everything. You should've just listened to him. Yet,

“I don't understand,” it was a statement that broke through all of the other bullshit that bubbled in the base of your throat. All the fear and confusion until you looked at him head on. At Miguel whose frame suddenly swallowed the very shadow of you; With his tall stature and big eyes that glowed in the dark, a new light source that only made you tense up.

A moth that was afraid of the light. That's what you were and you couldn’t help but place another foot back; stumbling like a gangly spider with no stickiness to its legs.

Miguel of course, stood tall and firm. 

“I know it's a lot to take in, I didn’t want to be the one to tell you,” you frowned at that, another lie. So much so that your senses couldn’t help but ring a bit higher.

“Then why did you,” you blurted out, cause what else was there to say? Nothing it seemed because Miguel only looked down at you, forever down at you as if you were a kid.

As if you didn’t have a college essay due in a week and a date with your own Peter in another. Jesus, you paid taxes for crying out loud.

You weren’t a child, you weren’t Gwen or Pavitar or god forbid Peter B. You were fucking Spider-Woman, you could ask questions, you could ask why. But the longer the question lingered in the air, the more childish you felt and the more ridiculous you realized it was to question Miguel. 

Suddenly you felt silly, even if Jessica was suspiciously not here and Peter was gone and everyone that littered the corners of this office of his was now non-existent.

To be honest, if it weren’t for the scuffs you heard beneath the floorboards, you might’ve been tricked into thinking that you were the only ones in this building, in this entire shitty city even. 

The corners of your lips now trembled and your hands pulled at the spandex of your suit. You looked down. “I have a date next week,”

"it's gonna be our first one," it was a shitty protest but,

“And do you think that's worth the end of the multiverse?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He simply crowded you in and backed you up roughly until your feet twisted again with the other. 

“Do you think your Peter would want everyone to die just so what? He can get his dick wet?” Your face twisted at that.

“Go fuck yourself," Cause nah you weren’t a push over.

Yet, you could only bring your mask halfway up to say it; enough for him to read your lips and see the way they sneered at him. He didn’t need to know that your eyes were firm on the ceiling the whole time.

“You know nothing about me, about him,”

He got closer, suddenly you were chest to chest. “I know that the Miguel in your universe is dead,”

“I know that in every version of you and every version of me there's an us, no matter how it happens, or how quick it is,” Bullshit, it was all fucking bullshit. But he said it with such confidence and reluctance, like the words were hard to think about, much less say.  

“Listen, I’ll make it quick” he continued, a rough hand now on your shoulder. All that muscle that you built over the years now nothing beneath his grip.

Optimistically, some part of you thought he meant for it to be reassuring but your senses have started to scream and there was a tremble in your thighs that wasn't there before. This time, it was Miguel that pushed you back, your knees buckling into something hard. 

“No, there has to be another way,” 

“There's not—unfortunately” he added on, like it was an afterthought. 

"Bullshit,"

“Did you even try?”

“Try?” he cocked his head, jaw clenched tight. “Trying means there's a possibility of failing, Spider-woman,” 

“Are you willing to take that risk?” Are you? Have you ever? Of course, the words stayed stuck in your throat.

Buried and dead, all while Miguel looked at you with the intensity of someone who regularly gave false choices before solemnly he rolled his shoulders. Whatever he found in the tremble of your lips and awkwardness of your gait making him attempt something close to a smile. 

"Listen, I'm trying to be nice," He sighed, his fangs gleaming beneath his lips. "Or do you think I want this? Want you?" And ok, ouch.

"Man, I just think this situation is fucked,"

"I mean, why does it have to be you," it could be any other varient. Any other Miguel. But the comment only earned you another childish look down.

Another sneer that said you knew nothing, he knew everything and you might as well just fall in line. The grip on your shoulders grew tighter. Beneath him you suffocated.

Above you, his eyes bled red and his fangs never looked so sharp. "The multiverse could collapse at any moment and you want conveniency?"

"I was just thinking-"

"And that's the problem,"

"You thought, and now we're debating the fate of trillions,"

"Are you really that selfish?" he spat and your eyes widened.

Selfish. You seized up at that word like it was poison and in a way it was. Selfish and Spider-Woman were antonyms. They fought constantly and neither ever won. Selfishness was a curse, a bane that wove itself into your skin until you dragged it out yourself. Pulling and pulling and pulling until you felt it kiss your underskin.

Selfish. Bile bubbled in your throat and your fingers tingled. He was lying. You knew this, you felt the truth sting at your skin, felt the pricks at the base of your neck and yet,

"Ok," you whispered. One word but Miguel didn't need you to repeat yourself.

“Ok," he drew out testedly, as if he was tasting his own victory.

"Then come on,” he gestured to something behind you; his expression still sorrow as if this was hard for him. “Bend over,”

“On your tippy toes and widen your legs,” God, he did not just say ‘tippy toes’.

‘Is that a part of the canon event too?’ you wanted to ask.

But to speak it meant to acknowledge what this really was. It meant that you couldn’t pretend that you ever had a choice. 

Yet, your tongue still burned with questions, with the why,why,why. A list of snarky, back handed comments laid at the tip of your tongue. You had so many questions to ask.

And childishly you couldn't help but think that maybe you could change his mind, maybe you could convince him that this wasn't worth it. If only you used the right set of words, the correct cadence, an inspiring lilt to your tongue.

But Miguel O’hara was terrifying and big and all the doors were closed and there was only one source of light and-

You turned around and bent over, on your tippy toes. 

Suddenly, a strong ache stretched from your legs and into your belly. Before eventually it twisted into your senses and made your head hurt and core heat up. Did your body know? Did it understand what was happening?

From behind you, Miguel's feet stayed stagnant, frozen in place. 

It was an reaction that gave you half a mind to stand back up cause what if this was a joke? A sick fucking joke and everyone was about to come out of the corners and laugh and tease you for again being the dumbest of the spidermen before what sounded like the largest exhale known to man bounced off the walls and Miguel was directly behind you. A large hand pressed onto your back, as if he thought you were gonna escape, as if you could. 

“One day you’ll thank me for this,” he whispered, while you ignored the way his breath went ragged, and the way his talons slowly spliced at the spandex of your suit.

Quickly, your cunt hit cold air and you shuddered violently. Miguel took another deep breath, his taloned fingers brushed against your cheek before gently, patiently he pulled the mask off your face. Your braids now splayed across the table.

"Now look forward, we're saving the world," then his suit completely dematerialized, and you widened your legs.