#this is so stupid but it made me laugh so I couldn’t resist

[halfratsalready]

Leda: If I become the evil overlord, I will never harm my minions

[5 years later]

Highly throwable minion: hoohoohee

Night Swan: hmm

[ickadori]

++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

[summary] wrio’s spouse winds up in prison. special treatment ensues.

[cws] gender neutral reader. fluff.

“What you did was incredibly stupid.”

“I’d like to think it was very brave, actually.” You quip back, lips pursed as you turn up your chin. “You should be proud of me, really.”

“I should be proud that you got yourself thrown in prison?” You don’t have to look up to know that Wriothesley is sporting an incredulous expression. “Did they knock your head around a bit before bringing you down here?”

“You’re acting like I murdered someone.” You finally meet his gaze, and you resist the urge to sink down into your seat at the clear disapproval in his eyes. “All I did was—”

“Break into the Opera Epiclese and destroy government property.”

“That’s such a trumped-up charge!” You huff and roughly cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you think back on the charges that had been slapped down onto you by that damned archon. “You trip in the dark and accidentally fall into the oratrice and all of a sudden you’re a criminal. Hmph!”

“Yeah, exactly. It also doesn’t help that you broke in—”

“—I left my bracelet in there after the trial! Was I just supposed to leave it behind and potentially lose it forever? The condition of the lost and found in that place is downright terrible—the guards pocket all the good stuff.”

“You could have bought another one.”

“Not like this one.” You look down to the gray bracelet encircling your wrist, and a warmth spreads in your chest as you gently twist it around, finger rubbing over the messily written engraving on the inside of it. “This was a gift.”

“Hardly.” He sighs, and your eyes flick up to watch as he runs his hands through his already messy hair. “It’s just scrap metal I bent up and welded because I couldn’t buy you proper jewelry back when I was a prisoner.” It’s his turn to look at the bracelet.

“You were so creative back then.” You smile a bit wider. “I remember you used to have something new made every time I came to visit you. What was that one thing you made? The one that we painted together?”

“The ballerina music box.” He groaned, looking a bit embarrassed, and you snapped your fingers.

“The ballerina music box!” The ballerina was a bit oddly shaped, and the box had sharp corners on one side and rounded on the other, and the song the box played was distorted and sounded more creepy than relaxing due to some disfigured cogs, but you loved it nonetheless, and had even sobbed in thanks when he had first presented the gift to you. “I love that little box.”

“It looks like a child made it.”

“A child in the throes of eleazar, yes,” you nod, and his mouth opens a bit in surprise before he huffs out a laugh. “But I still love it… because you made it.” You give him a sweet smile, and you can see him soften up before your very own eyes; broad shoulders losing that rigidness, lids lowering, crease between his dark, thick brows disappearing.

“You’re tryin’ to butter me up.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Is it working?”

“Not at all, jailbird.” He gives you a smile of his own, and despite the clear sarcasm in it, you can’t help the little flutter your heart does at the sight. “No special treatment for you.” So he says, yet he had placed a cup of tea down for you the moment you were brought to his office, and had even tried to inconspicuously nudge the basket of cookies in your direction, pretending not to notice when you reached for one. “Spouse or not.”

“What a mean man.” You slouch down in your seat. “I treasure the gifts that my lovely, amazing, strong, handsome, and so so so incredibly smart husband gives me and what do I get in return? A criminal record and unfair treatment! I’m suing the entire nation the moment I’m free!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand in the air as if fanning away the conversation, and now it’s your turn to huff. “For the few days that you’re here, you’ll be working directly with me in exchange for coupons.” He takes a slow sip of his tea, adams apple bobbing as he swallows, before gently setting the cup back down onto its small plate. “I’ll make your first job real easy to get you in the swing of things.”

“How kind of you.”

He just barely contains an amused smile. “Very. Now…” He shifts in his seat. “Give me a kiss.”

“I’m married, Your Grace.”

“I’m sure your husband won’t mind. Kiss. Now.” He taps a finger against his lips, and after a moment you stand up and round his desk, hands finding his shoulders as you bend at the waist so your noses brush.

“My husband is a very good fighter, by the way. When he finds out you twisted his spouses’s arm like this, he’ll pummel you.”

“I can handle him.” A hand snags you by the waist, forcing you down into his lap, and you only have time to let out a quiet yelp before Wriothesley’s lips are on yours. The kiss is slow, sensual, and it brings a warmth to your cheeks and covers you with a bashful cloak when he pulls back to let his eyes roam over your face. “I’ve gotta say… your husband is a real lucky guy to snatch up someone as cute as you.”

“Hmph. Seems like you’re trying to butter me up now.”

“Is it working?” He presses his face into your neck, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin, and you have to fight back one of your own.

“Not at all, jailbird.”

[dwaekkicidal]

Lessons

˚ʚfwb!Bang Chan x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Just a regular session of your best friend helping you learn Korean <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, nicknames; ‘honey and good girl,’ pvssy slaps, playful ass&thigh spanking, Chris calls himself Daddy once lol, rough sex, creampie (try to pee after sex pls <3)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: max and I spoke about this a few weeks ago and it was soo hot so I wanted to write something for it,,, but then I lost motivation for it for a while😭 anyways hope u enjoy <3

OH and thank you for 700 followers!! (im late so now so ~25 away from 800) :''') I have something planned for if/when I hit 1k hehe, Love u guys :>

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

After you had moved to Korea, you made it your sole goal to be completely fluent in Korean as soon as possible. You knew the basics and some vocabulary that got you through day-to-day encounters, but holding an actual conversation past introductions was rather difficult. So, this is how you found yourself in your current situation. Your best friend and fuck buddy of 2 years giving you weekly Korean lessons.

And this? This was a normal thing between you both. Sitting in his lap practicing while he sits there explaining things and kneading your thighs mindlessly. It was a normal occurrence! The only difference is you usually wore sweats or some sort of bottom that would cover your legs more. Today was one of the hotter days of the week, so you disregarded the extras and opted to only wear one of his shirts, nothing else.

His hands rubbed eagerly up and down your thighs, squeezing the flesh like he does with soft pillows. Again, it was normal, but today he seemed to be restless with his movements. You couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath when he mindlessly squeezed the flesh of your inner thigh rather roughly while he translated a word you couldn’t figure out. “What is up with you today? You’re more touchy-feely than usual.”

“Sorry haha. Had a long day so I’m fidgety.. And you know I can’t resist you in nothing but my shirt.” You only hummed in response. You believed what he said, but you also knew that he wasn’t stupid and that the apology was not for his roughness as much as it was for how riled up he knew you were getting. He was never actually sorry about being physically affectionate with you, but you both knew how you tended to get very horny when his hands were on you so desperately.

“Mmmm.. Let me play with you a little while you read, okay?” You shake your head and push your study items away, pulling a laugh from him when you mumbled out ‘Fuck that, I need you.’

“None of that hahaha. Focus on the reading, honey.” He said, placing a kiss on your cheek before leaning down and biting into your neck. You groaned and leaned back into him, grinding against him in an attempt to make him fold in your favor. He let the first few grinds pass as he left hickeys along your neck, but the second your hands cupped him through his shorts he grabbed your hips to still your movements.

“Hey.“ The commanding tone in his voice caught you off guard and had your hands immediately stop in their tracks. “Stop that. You’re going to finish reading this text and then I’ll fuck you nice and good.”

“It’s not that serious, Chris. It's just a few paragraphs, we can do it after or just skip out this week.. Plus it’s your fault I’m this horny anyways.” The attitude in your voice makes him narrow his eyes, and then he grabs your chin and angles you to look back at him.

“Watch your tone. And I’m not gonna tell you again,” His hand grabbed both of yours and placed them on the table before moving to spread your legs open for him. Then, he finishes his sentence and enunciates each word with a harsh smack to your bare cunt. “Finish. Reading. The. Article.” The last one comes off harder than the others and it pulls a squeal from you, making your hands shoot down and wrap around his wrist while your legs slam shut against his hand. He grabs from your inner knee and hooks your legs over his, keeping you spread for him, and he pulls your book closer again.

You can feel the teasing smile on his face after he places a kiss on your cheek and then speaks against it. “You only have one article left, honey. The quicker you read it, the quicker I can bend you over and fuck you into the table~” You can’t help but whine and nod. Once you look down at the material again, Chris’ hands that were previously rubbing your inner thigh move back to rub along your wet folds. 

Then for what feels like the next hour, but was really just 20 long minutes, you slur out the words in front of you as best as you can. Chris’ left hand swapped between drawing circles into your clit and pinching your nipple, while his right hand shoved fingers against your walls. And every couple of minutes he would swap between kissing your neck to sucking hickeys into your collarbone. However, you weren’t allowed to cum and any time you mispronounced something or took too long to read a word, a stern slap was sent against your clit. As long as you continued to read well, he would pump 3 of his fingers in and out of you.

By the time you’re halfway through the material, your mind is foggy and you’re almost drooling on yourself from the constant edging. By the time you’re on the last sentence, your legs are shaking and you're slumped against him letting out quiet moans. Your neck and collarbone were so red from his incessant suckling, and you were desperate to get this over with. And then, when you finally finished, he stopped all movements to place a soft, congratulatory slap on your thigh and massaged your hips.

“Good girl… Now was that so hard?” With that, he hurriedly clears the desk before helping you stand and then standing himself. The chair you both rested on was kicked backwards and your whole world spun as he suddenly pinned you to the desk. You whined as his hand held a tight grip in your hair and pushed your face into the table. His free hand playfully squeezed and slapped at your ass a few times before you heard his shorts and boxers hit the floor.

You sighed out his name as he teased his tip through your folds, silently pleading with him to hurry it up. “Shhhhhh… ‘Atta girl. You did so well, baby. Now let me take care of you, yeah?”

He finally sunk in and nothing but low, whiny moans left your lips as you clenched around him. His free hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it in appreciation while he slowly sunk every inch he had to offer. Once he bottomed out he gave you only a little bit of time before his thrusts started, albeit slowly at first but quickly ramping up due to his own impatience. It doesn’t take long for him to change to an unforgiving and rougher pace, his hand still holding your head against the table.

“Fff-fuck.. Christopherrr-”

“Yeah yeah, baby. Daddy’s got you. ‘M nice and deep, just how you like it right?” You missed the way he smirked when you let out a desperate ‘Uh-huh’ in response, but you could feel the way it encouraged him when his hips slammed against yours with more eagerness. He keeps this pace up for a while until he feels you tighten around him, and then he changes to slow, deep thrusts that make your eyes roll into your skull. 

The hand in your hair slides on top of yours on the desk, intertwining your fingers, and he leans forward to place his forehead between your shoulder blades, “Mmmm keep squeezing me, Honey. Fffuck, juuust like that..”

When you’re tipping over the edge, he places a kiss on your sweaty skin and moans against it. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up just how you like it, okay?” You want to nod, but everything hits you at once so you can only cry out against your desk.

As your orgasm starts to fade into overstimulation, he fixes his posture and focuses on his hip movements. A squeaky moan falls from your lips as he suddenly bottoms out and the hold on your hip tightens. He threw his head back and bit his bottom lip as he came, attempting to muffle his whiney moans. He rides out his orgasm by sometimes pulling out and snapping his hips harshly against yours.

“Fuck… If that’s how we end the studying session from now on, I might consider this payment.” He jokes.

You let out a breathy laugh and he starts to pull out slowly, pushing you into the table as he did so. You take the moment to catch your breath when you realize he’s gone quiet and there’s the light feeling of breath on your thighs. Your head snaps back and you realize he was kneeling in order to watch his cum slide down your folds.

“Hey!” you whine and place a hand on his forehead, pushing his face away only for him to resist, so you use your feet to push him harder. He laughs at your embarrassment and stands up, pulling you to sit up as well and lifting the shirt off of you. He uses it to wipe you down before throwing it into your hamper and grabbing one of his spare shirts from your dresser. He steals a kiss before covering you in the shirt, then drags you to the living room to watch a tv show together.

You two spend the rest of the night on the couch, watching tv and relaxing in each other’s warmth. It’s no surprise when soft snores are heard and you look down to see his sleeping face squished into your chest. You huff out a laugh before you snuggle him closer. Then, your eyes get heavy until they inevitably close, and you fall asleep too.

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina

[blckbrrybasket]

Rafe with reader who stays away from hard drugs

People snorting cocaine at these parties always shocked you. It wasn’t so much that it was a hard drug, but more so the money that went into it. No drug was cheap that was for sure. Cocaine, though, was the drug for rich kids.

Being a pogue, you hadn’t tried it. You had no desire to. You saw what hard drugs did to your mom. Unlike coke, basically anyone with a spare room and a strong will could make meth out on the cut. At least your mom could. You didn’t mind seeing people do drugs, but you always held yourself back.

Rafe noticed it pretty easily. His first assumption was the price which is why he slyly told you one night that you could get a bump for free for being his. You still didn’t budge, politely declining and making an excuse. After some time Rafe dropped the subject becoming a bit more aware to your aversion to it.

Most people didn’t give a shit until Topper made a big deal about it.

“Yo..aren’t you gonna have any?” He sent you a inebriated smile and you resisted scrunching your nose up at him. “Nah, I’m good.” Rafe slid an arm around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Leave them alone Top, it’s good.” Topper rolled his eyes at Rafe’s automatically stern tone. “I was just asking, shit. If they want to be a pussy they can. Not my business.”

Topper shrugged with a smirk and turned back to the line in front of him. Your stomach dropped at the comment, Rafe’s eyes narrowing. “Yo, what the fuck?” “What, bro?” Topper shot back. The few seconds of their argument gave you enough time to leave Rafe’s lap and storm towards the door.

It was obvious that Rafe was following you. You acted like you couldn’t hear his voice calling after you in the crowd. His long legs made it easy for him to catch up to you though, hand sliding around your elbow to pull you towards him. “Babe.”

“It’s fine.” You started, already trying to cover up what happened. “No. No, it’s not. What’s going on? Talk to me.” Rafe was worried. His eyes were wide with unspoken fear that you’d be mad at him.

“It’s stupid.” You crossed your arms over your chest. Rafe shook his head, “Nothing bothering you is stupid. Please, talk to me.” Sighing, you dropped your arms and grabbed his hand to pull him outside.

He understood the need for privacy, but was surprised nonetheless. Finally after a minute the two of you stopped by the side of the yard, far enough away from prying eyes. At your groan Rafe’s eyebrows rose, unsure what to do.

You covered your face, sighing into your hands. “When you…” Your words were quiet and unsure before you started again. “When you do drugs, it’s fine. I mean…it isn’t for your body, but it’s fun. Every kook our age does drugs, but when my mom does it, it makes her a methhead.”

“The assumption isn’t wrong, but it’s different for us on the cut. The drugs our parents did ruined us.” Rafe’s eyes revealed his realization. You had never mentioned it, but he had never asked. He should have asked. He felt like such an asshole.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. Your eyes snapped up to him. Rafe rarely apologizes without being told the problem, but now it wasn’t his fault. “For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.” “No, I did. I put you in that situation. I put you around drugs…fuck.”

The way you looked at the coke he did made sense now, like you had a personal vendetta against the powder. How many times had you been uncomfortable while he dealed with you on his lap? “I’m sorry.” He reaffirmed, hands cupping your face. “I don’t care what bullshit you say, I put you in that..and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” was all you could think to whisper back to him. “It’s okay.” This time it was firmer, Rafe’s earlier expression of ease slowly making its way back onto his face. “Now let’s get out of here.”

“What?” You laughed in disbelief. Rafe shrugged, arms scooping you up to swing you over his shoulder, “Parties’ boring anyways.” You laughed, clutching onto his shoulders. “By the way, don’t hurt Topper too much.”

Rafe chuckled knowing you knew him too well. “Don’t know what you mean,” he lied.

[froggybells]

So what’s the deal?

Sanemi x fem!reader

a/n: HI I AM BACK AGAIN this time my wonderful boy sanemi needs some love. he might b a little ooc but i like to think he wouldn’t resist a beautiful woman (wink wink) reader is totally a tease bc i feel like he would totes get flustered LOL

synop: amidst hashira practice, you get the bright idea to tease sanemi.

Word count: 1k

Part 2 —> here

Part 3 —> here

The first time Sanemi Shinzugawa laid eyes on you, we saw you as nothing more than a pest- always getting into things that you shouldn’t, and seemingly oblivious to the obvious irritation you caused him. He couldn’t help but wonder why no one else shared his frustrations. 

Soon something changed. His feelings of irritation soon changed into some sort of possessiveness- needing to make sure you weren’t hurt because it’s obvious your dont know how to take care of yourself. 

“Shinazugawa! I don’t understand why I can’t go practice with Tomioka? I was walking by yesterday and saw you trying to kill him! I’m a Harshira too, damnit!” You yelled at him. 

“He’s too weak for you to practice with! Plus, you’re too idiotic to do things on your own.” Sanemi stated firmly, giving you a glare. He doesn’t care if you’re a Hashira, he’ll still treat you like an idiot. 

“I’m literally the first sun breather in generations!” You said, pointing your wooden sword at him. “Does that not make me powerful enough for you?!” You sighed, rubbing your temples. Suddenly, you looked at him with a sly smirk on your face. That couldn’t be good, you thought. 

“Sanemi,” He flinches at the use of his first name, “Let’s make a deal.” He pauses, a deal? He’s definitely curious at your offer. What kind of deal could you make? “And why would I agree to that?”

You scoffed. “No matter how you act, you still respect me and my strength.” He turned his head away. “Tch- fine. I’ll agree to your stupid deal, but it better not be a waste of my time.”

”Let’s do a real practice battle. Not training. If I win, you’ll let me battle with Giyuu,” God, you using his first name made his blood boil, “If you win, well, you can decide the punishment.”

A hint of a smirk appeared on his face. A practice battle? This was going to be easy. “Alright dumbass, you’re on. You won’t win. Not against me.” You drew your wooden sword, getting into proper position. “Let’s get this over with.”

He laughed at you, “Don’t cry about getting your ass kicked when I’m done! Got it?” You charged quickly, ignoring his words, landing a blow to his knee and chest, quickly zipping away. He hisses in both pain and annoyance, but quickly regains his composure, a smirk on his face as he watched you zip away. “You have some speed, I’ll give you that much. Let’s see if you can do it again!” He barked.

He took off after you, aiming for your leg, but you jump quickly. “Too slow ‘Nemi!” You got a hit on the back of his head, knocking him over. 

He lands on the ground with a thump, groaning in pain before quickly scrambling to his feet. ‘Damnnit,’ he thought, ‘She’s a lot faster than she lets on.”

“Don’t give up yet Sanemi! Come at me!” In a flash, he’s over to you within a second, hitting you in the stomach. The force knocks you over, hailing a cloud of dust. 

His vision now clouded, he couldn’t see where you ran off to. “I”m ending this here!” You yell, kicking his back, forcefully knocking him over. “I win!” You gleam, now sitting on his back. 

“Get off me dumbass!” He screams as you kick his sword away. “Nope.” You say, popping the P. “I said get off me, damnit!” You smirk at his words. “Oh yeah? What’ll you give me in return?” He struggles some more, groaning in annoyance as he can barely move. He let’s out a scoff, narrowing his eyes at you. “What do you want, you brat? I’ll give you anything, just get the hell off me!”

You look down on him. “You have to go on a date with me.”

His face turned red. “What?!” He sputters. You have to be joking, there’s no way you’d seriously as him that. “You want me to go on a date with you? Seriously?”

“As serious as I’ll ever be! Can’t our just imagine it! Us strolling around under the cherry blossoms? It’ll be beautiful!” A slight blush dances around your face. He feels a slight fluttering sensation in his stomach- seeing you blush like that was weirdly cute to him. But nonetheless, he was still surprised. why would you want to go on a date with him?

”You really want to go out on a date with me?” He questions, looking up at you, a slight flush on his cheeks from embarrassment. “Of course ‘Nemi! You’re attractive, I’m attractive. You’re strong, I’m stronger. We would make the perfect pair! So what do you say,” You finally step off of his back, helping him to stand up. “Will you go on a date with me?”

The red tinge on his face darkens as you help him up, standing at his full height. He looks down at you, his expression slightly vulnerable. He lets out a huff, not being able to look you in the eye. “Fine, I’ll go on a date with you. Dammit, you’re so stubborn! But just this once, got it?”

”Just this once!” You lean in to whisper in his ear. “Unless you beg for more~” You tease at him. You begin to walk away, a dark crimson staining his face. “Well then, I’m off to my estate! I’ll be back in the morning to discuss our arrangement!” You wave goodbye, not looking back. The truth is, your face was just as red as his, and you couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing you this way.

”Damn Woman.” He mutters in frustration.

[ghcstao3]

“Hair’s gettin’ a bit long, yeah, Simon?”

Simon waves Tommy off as he feels him pinch at a tuft of hair, unwilling to entertain the teasing remark when he knows it’d only lead to a brotherly jab—as it often does nowadays. He gives a gentle shove when Tommy only insists, currently more concerned with the sudoku game on his phone, but really Simon should know better by now, especially now, that Tommy will eventually, inevitably get his point across.

“Think they’ll let you back on base with that rat’s nest on your head?”

“Bugger off,” Simon grumbles. Tommy only doubles his efforts by draping all his weight over his brother. Simon rolls his eyes. “Think Beth’ll let you back in the house if I tell her about that time you—“

“Hey,” Tommy hisses, pushing away before gently smacking Simon upside the head, “shut your cake hole, it was one time.”

“How you’ve only managed to do it only once is beyond me,” says Simon flatly. He gets another row filled of his puzzle. “A miracle, really. Knowing you.”

“Dickhead,” Tommy retorts.

“Twat.”

Tommy snorts. “Really should cut it, though. Looks a mess. ‘M sure Beth could help.”

Simon shakes his head. “I’ll just buzz it. Save her the hassle,” he grunts.

Though he can’t see it, he can sense the way Tommy throws his arms up in surrender. It’s obvious his insults have been made, if not by the sudden willful silence, but his footsteps as he wanders out of the kitchen. He’d been right, unfortunately, about Simon’s hair, but they’re well past the days of allowing each other the small victories.

Which is a good thing, Simon supposes. Knows.

He’s thankful Tommy’s left the space so he couldn’t see the stupid smile that appears on Simon’s face, before he runs a hand through his overgrown hair and lets it fall just in case Tommy were to come wandering back with something new to pick on.

//

“Your hair’s gettin’ a bit long, Simon.”

Simon resists the urge to roll his eyes when he feels Johnny’s fingers card through his admittedly too-long hair, suppressing the sigh that rises from his lungs when the sergeant continues to linger.

“I’m aware,” Simon says instead. “Is that all you needed to say, MacTavish?”

He feels Johnny’s shrug. “Looks nice. Might need a brush after being under the mask, but.”

Simon tilts his head back, inadvertently leaning into Johnny��s touch. Perhaps the vulnerability of his bare face had him on edge, guarded for insult like he used to be with Tommy, but the soft look on Johnny’s face has the sigh finally escaping him, the tension in his shoulders gradually releasing.

“Yeah?”

Johnny nods. “Mhm. But if you want it cut, I’ll help you buzz it. Know bothers you.”

Simon hums. “Maybe. Might wait a bit longer.”

“That right?”

“Sure, Johnny.”

Johnny laughs softly, gently scratching at Simon’s scalp before he retracts his hand. His touch lasts well after he’s left, a warmth that spreads through Simon’s body like every other time they’ve made contact—even if he’d never tell Johnny that.

He may just take him up on his offer of help, however.

This time, he doesn’t bother trying to mask his smile.

[temiizpalace]

hi!! requesting for the fight for the prefect's love event,,,, can i have leona and jade with prompt 8, with the reader choosing leona in the end? thank you!!!!

☆┊MATCHING BRACELETS?! OH HE HAS ONE TOO.. (🐬 vs. 🦁)

SUMMARY: YOU MADE A MATCHING BRACELET FOR HIM, NEARLY MELTING HIS HEART. THEN HE SEE’S YOU MADE ONE FOR HIM TOO.. WHATEVER! HE’LL PROVE HIS IS BETTER.

CHARACTERS: jade leech vs. leona kingscholar

EVENT MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: determined end couple, jealousy, jade leech is jade leech and leona kingscholar is leona kingscholar

NOTES: jade and leona beefing more often would be so funny in canon tbh. tysm for your request!

reader is g/n, reader is not specified to be yuu

˚∘☆∘˚

jade was delighted to receive such a peculiar piece of jewelry, especially one of pearls.

“like it? i saw it at sam’s and couldn’t resist.” you laugh, flashing him a grin before showing him the matching pearls on your wrists. “now we match.” his features softened at your enthusiasm, heart nearly melting at your smile. “indeed we do. the pearls are exquisite, i will cherish these.” jade smiles back, returning your excitement with his own, though a little more toned down.

you were practically illuminated by the purple lights shining down in octavinelle, enhancing your already enchanting appearance. the pearls on your wrist shimmer just as brightly as you did. such a shame they clashed with a leather bracelet on your right hand, and a lion beastman sitting in your booth.

“gotta thank leona for being able to help me pay! otherwise i could forget about it.” you chuckle, patting leona’s shoulder as he sips on his drink. “only cause ya practically begged for it.” he retorts, looking away from you. “is that so? your kindness is much appreciated, leona.” jade chuckles, maintaining his polite demeanor. though he acted oh so kind and understanding, his smile fails to meet his cold glare.

it was as obvious as black and white to jade. the way leona speaks with you, acts with you, acts with others around you, it was as plain as day. leona kingscholar was in love with you, and jade couldn’t stand the thought of it. he knew sweeping you off your feet would be a difficult task due to the fact that a beastman of all things already laid their claim onto you, but he was a stubborn man. leona’s courting rituals didn’t faze him, not in the least.

he’ll get you in the end, one way or another. jade is a very patient man.

“if that’ll be all, then i shall be off now. [MC], i hope to see you on campus. leona, please enjoy your evening.” jade slips the bracelet onto his wrists, admiring its beauty before clearing his throat and returning to work, giving you and leona a quick bow before walking off. before he left your side, he gave you a faint poke to the cheek before attending to the neighboring tables.

leona, while lazy, was also observant. he saw how jade looks at you all goo-goo eyed. disgusting. it’s like his obvious signs meant nothing to him (it didn’t). he stares at the pearls illuminating your wrists, not bothering to hide his obvious jealousy. before buying these stupid pearls, he was the one you matched with. your excitement was reared towards someone else, and he does not like it.

if anyone were to be the reason of your happiness, it should be him and his lovely leather bracelets. watching as you fidget with the bracelets on your wrists, leona leans his head onto your shoulder, shutting his eyes as he set down his now empty cup. “oh? what’s up with you?” you laugh, caressing his chin. “nothin.” he scoffs, leaning into your touch further.

“stop, you and i both know you’re lying.” you pinch leona’s cheek instead, earning scowl and a groan from the boy next to you. “quit it.” he grumbles, swatting your hand away from his face. “softie. it’s ok, you dont gotta hide it from me.” you tease, a hint of truth and sincerity hidden in your words. “tch. whatever.” he sighs, nuzzling into your neck.

“yeah, yeah, i knew it.” you grin, patting his shoulder. this is what leona wanted. having you, all your attention, just to himself. a scene almost too romantic for a certain eels own taste. jade nearly cracks the plate he held in his hands, scaring the nearby customers he just happened to serve.

“hey, jade, what’s got yer panties in a twist?” floyd asks, draping himself over his brother. “ah, it was nothing. just a simple thought was all.” he showed his brother a toothy grin, staring down at his wrist as a reminder to remain calm. he glances back at the table where you sat, seeing as leona now rested himself on your lap. he was supposedly asleep, but jade knew better.

leona opened one eye to glare at jade, a smirk tugging at his lips as your hand ran through his hair. the hand with the pearls brushed through each of the boys braids, nearly contaminating its beauty. “jade, you’re like totally overflowing that dudes glass.” floyd giggles, watching as the water dripped onto the poor customers lap.

the customer was the least of his worries, but he’s a refined gentlemen, tending to everyone’s needs. leona sticks his tongue out as jade walks by, knowing that he lost. you chose him. the eel was far too late.

A/N: rip jade and his loving fantasies (not some of my best work im sorry if this disappoints)💔💔

date published: 8/25/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[gay-dorito-dust]

DOMESTIC STUFF WITH JASON!!! THIS IS JUST AAAAAAA

Jason’s favourite thing to do when he wasn’t busy being RedHood was take care of you; primarily through the use of food.

Now he wasn’t the best but he most certainly wasn’t the worst cook in Gotham but it was the fact that he was going out of his way to cook FOR YOU was all the reason you could ever need to feel as though you were falling in love with him all over again; Also that man makes a mean burger and once you gave it a try, you’ve never wanted another burger from any fast food chain restaurant, not when Jason could make one ten times better then them in a small but cosy kitchen.

‘The best in all of Gotham.’ You’d tell him, only for him to smile, chastise you for talking with your mouth full, before kissing you on the forehead. ‘Not exactly a difficult standard to be but since you’re being extremely cute with your chipmunk cheeks, I’ll allow it.’ He replied, laughing when you began pouting as it usually followed with you unintentionally puffing your cheeks, making them more chipmunk-esque.

So each and every morning you’d awake to the smell of heaven greeting your nose and Jason’s side of the bed completely vacant of his presence- indicating that he has gotten up relatively early to start making your breakfast- before deciding to pull yourself out of bed and wander down towards the kitchen, where you were greeted with what has become your favoured sight ever since he first started cooking for the pair of you.

Jason often wore a black shirt and boxers to bed but the sight of him in said attire, working on multitasking as he made sure the bacon wouldn’t burnt whilst focusing on the progression of the eggs, made for an great way to start your day off on the right foot; hell! even with furrowed brows and a face full of concentration did Jason look as handsome as he always did.

You sighed fondly as you leant on the doorframe of the kitchen, smiling softly as you watched your beautiful partner work hard to make a simple meal of sausage, eggs and bacon that you couldn’t possibly resist the opportunity of getting to hug him from behind and rest your head comfortably against his warm broad back, arms squeezing his waist as you felt him tense a little before relaxing again when he glanced over his shoulder at you.

‘Someone’s clingy this morning.’ He teased, smirk plastered across his lips. ‘Why’s that I wonder?’

‘My pillow grew sentience, left the bed and is now standing in the kitchen making me breakfast instead of keeping me warm like he’s suppose to on cold mornings like these.’ You murmured into his back, nuzzling your face against him as he laughed, lowering the heat on the eggs and bacon so he could focus his attention all on you.

‘Sounds like a real shame but what if this…sentient pillow just wanted to care for you and make sure you’re well fed during the day hmm?’ Jason tilts his head, a playful gleam in his eyes. ‘What then sweetheart. Surly you can’t be upset at him for wanting to look out for you.’

‘Then i can’t possibly stay mad at him then can I for being the sweetest man alive.’ You replied, kissing his clothed chest in appreciation, revealing in the warmth while you can before he kicks you out for the kitchen for being an -and I quote- enticing distraction he’d be too stupid to pass up. ‘I love you Jaybirdie.’ You whispered softly, arms squeezing his waist as if to reassure yourself that he was real because in your eyes Jason was the perfect man to ever exist; He’d naturally disagree to this but you wouldn’t have any of it. He was perfect. End of discussion.

‘Love you too, chipmunk.’ He says softly as he lifts your face by the chin so he could press a kiss to your lips and forehead. ‘Now back to bed with you because if you don’t remember, you’re banned from the kitchen for distracting me.’ He then removes you from him as he gestures you out with a spatula. You chuckle and put your hands on your hips. ‘And what if I don’t?’ You challenged, brow raised.

‘You will, now get back to bed I’ll be much longer.’ You sighed dejectedly and were about to do just as he says when it was Jason’s time to hold you tightly from behind as he whispered in your ear. ‘And When I do it is then and only then will you get me all to yourself you little heathen.’ He then lets you go, though not before giving your ass a swift smack with the backside of his spatula.

You gasped as you looked back at him, only to see that he had already refocused all his attention back onto the eggs and bacon as though nothing had happened but even though his back was to you, you could clearly imagine the shit eating smirk on his face.

Bonus: for all my glasses wearing babes, I bring before you; Jason going out of his way to clean your glasses. Whether they’re smudged or just need to be cleared after it’s been raining, Jason will gently remove your glasses off of your face, press kisses to the glasses marks left on either side of your nose before giving them a much needed deep cleaning.

He even puts them back on for you afterwards too because he loves getting to be the one who puts your glasses on and off each morning and night with the added gift of a nose kiss.

[mykoreanlove]

Wanna bet?

Hyunjin hurried back into the practice room looking fully disheveled. His hair was tousled, his clothes messy and his eyes glazed. He barely made it back in time, at least physically. Mentally he was still between your thighs.

„Jesus, what’s gotten into you?“, Han teased. Hyunjin stumbled for words, his brain hadn’t fully recovered from what you had done to him just minutes ago. Images of your plush lips around his hardened cock flooded his mind. „Oh, would you look at how he’s blushing. Were you with her again?“, Changbin chimed in.

Ever since the dating ban had been lifted he was fucking his whole way through Seoul‘s elite, unlike Hyunjin who had only ever fucked you.

But since nobody was allowed to know about that, he had to make up a lie. „Who is Hyunjin‘s mystery girlfriend?“, Seungmin asked curiously. Changbin snorted before answering: „We all know who it’s not. Have you talked to y/n lately? She can’t stand his guts.“

A provocative laugh left Changbin‘s lips which made Hyunjin‘s blood boil. If he only knew, if they only knew how you whimpered for him, how you got on your knees for him, how you declared your love only for him.

You came up with the stupid idea to make up a feud so that nobody would be suspicious.

„Let’s just pretend we hate each other so nobody suspects us, Hyun.“

Oh no, he didn’t like that. At all. You kissed his big pout, little by little, until it dissolved. Hyunjin buried his head into your neck, whining about all of this. „My love, this is not fair. The dating ban is finally over and still I can’t show you openly? Make that make sense?“

He was a big romantic after all, your boyfriend. You smiled sadly and caressed his face. „Precious, you are used to the fame and its perks. But also its downsides. But I’m not. I am a nobody and I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want to share our love with others, especially not your fans. Can’t we just pretend for a little longer?“

His head shot up as he looked you straight in the eyes. You saw the dissatisfaction in him, but still he showed you the utmost respect and adoration.

„You’re not a nobody y/n. Especially not to me. But I understand. I don’t like it but I understand.“

You kissed the tip of his nose quickly. He let out a chuckle as he grabbed your face and kissed you tenderly. „You know I can’t resist you, my love. Never been able to.“

Seungmin‘s voice brought him back to reality. „You mean manager y/n? Why? Why does she hate him so much?“ Changbin grabbed a cup of water and sat down on the floor. Hyunjin wondered when the others would finally arrive, so he wouldn’t have to listen to this any longer.

„I grabbed lunch with her recently and we actually talked about this. You know one moment we were happily chatting about the newest girl groups’ choreographies and the next minute she got all icy and shot daggers out of her eyes. That’s when I realized she saw Hyunjin.“

Hyunjin listened silently as he recalled that moment in the cafeteria. It was true - you gave him the coldest look, turning his heart into ice. He even heard you badmouth him to Changbin, something about him being too arrogant and stupid. „He’s the leader of paboracha for a reason, right?“, your amused voice echoed in his head. „It’s like he only cares about his looks. No wonder he’s every brand‘s ambassador. But real talent? Not so much.“

Hurt got replaced by anger, so naturally Hyunjin left the cafeteria and ate alone. This was still new to him and he tried to have compassion for your fears but did you have to make your hate towards him that obvious?

Did you mean all that? Did you purposely spawn out his insecurities like that?

Sometimes he couldn’t tell, which left him feeling worse. He always saw you in the best light but apparently you only saw his flaws.

He was pissed, no he was furious.

Until he wasn’t.

Every time you made him angry like that he discovered new sides in both of you.

You felt guilty and remorseful after humiliating him, you desperately needed to make it up to him. You got creative, eager to please. You sent him the naughtiest texts while working, slid the prettiest nudes into his wallet or sucked him off in between meetings. You loved this game of provoking him, acting like he was shit only to beg for his forgiveness later.

And Hyunjin? Weirdly, he got off of it. He could bear the humiliation if that meant he could dominate you later as much as he pleased. He fucked his anger out of him - and right into you. He was rough with you: spitting, spanking, hitting. You insulted his ego and now he punished your pussy, however he pleased.

Was it twisted?

Was it perverse?

Hyunjin had no idea as this was his first real relationship. Was love always accompanied by hate?

„You know I think I might actually ask her out. What do you think? Do I have a shot with manager y/n?“

Changbin grinned from ear to ear.

Hyunjin had no idea how your relationship turned toxic but he was sure of one thing - you were his. He ruminated on using you to get back at his friend. He hesitated - no matter the amount of hate you elicited in him, he still loved you.

But that all changed when he looked into Changbin’s face - he was so sure of winning, so sure of humiliating Hyunjin for once, so he had no chance than to trade you in.

„Why don’t we make a bet?“ Hyunjin spoke up for the first time since entering the practice room.

His hyung snorted out laughing. „A bet? Do you want to compete against me?“

Hyunjin smirked, feeling overly confident. „Sure, why not?“ Changbin‘s eyes widened in shock. „Are you serious right now? She hates your guts. Do you want to lose?“

Hyunjin thought back to you moaning his name every other night. He pictured you walking around in his clothes, only for him to strip you out of them. He saw you looking at him with love and adoration, like no one ever had before. He was sick of hiding his relationship and he was sicker of Changbin‘s bickering. Let him loose drastically, let him learn a lesson.

„Is that a no? Are you afraid?“

Changbin got up from the floor, towering in front of him. „Game on, Hwang.“

Hyunjin flinched, rigorously hating being called by his surname. The voice of rationality chimed in, hoping to dissolve the friction between the two of them. „So let me get this straight. You want to bet on manager y/n? Who will win her over first? Isn’t that kind of…mean?“

Oh it was.

Normally, Hyunjin wouldn’t behave like this but he needed to teach Changbin a lesson. He knew that you wouldn’t get hurt so what was the big deal? Let him woo you some while he sat back and watched. At the end of the day it would be him who was making you faint from pleasure.

Nobody said a word, the older ones were too busy eye-fucking each other.

Changbin spoke first. „What’s the price?“

Hyunjin rolled his eyes as a response. „Her, you moron. What other price do you need?“

Changbin laughed again. „Actually, you’re right. Not only am I going to get her but I will also win against you. And that’s a shameful defeat you’ll have to live with forever. Let’s do this.“

The others entered the practice room as the deal was sealed. Not another word was spoken on that matter. Hyunjin remained silent, deep in his thoughts he wondered: „Did I take it too far this time?“

[sirenedeslily]

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 + 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄

𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐔𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐬, matthew sturniolo && fem!reader.

𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : a world renowned model dating a loser?!?

𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : fluff fluff aaaand more fluff!! established relationship between reader and matt. swearing. matt is just a normal dude with absolutely no social media presence whatsoever

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 [𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲] : first time writing a headcanon so be gentle with me PLS !!! new acc bc i hated not being able to follow y’all back <33 i might turn this into a smau if anyone wants it & pls give me ideas in da inbox (: huge creds to @//fawnchives for being the inspiration of the layout, love her BAD

𓋜 you met matt in a movie theatre.

𓋜 "parasite" was the movie that your friend dragged you to watch with her, telling you that it was life-changing — urging you to sit in the B section, your seat being #13, which happened to be beside three identical boys.

𓋜 when the end credits started rolling, the fluffy haired boy caught your attention when he pulled out his phone and went on letterboxd, rating the movie five stars and writing a quick review with a “what the fuck?” it made you giggle.

𓋜 from then on, you and the sturniolo boy had become inseparable, going from friends to lovers two years after the movie's release.

𓋜 it took you both some time to truly get used to the idea of going public with your relationship. matt was just a boy from boston who moved to los angeles because of his brother’s hockey scholarship. he didn’t even own any social media accounts!?

𓋜 well.. that is until he got sick of missing out on his angel’s content.

“why did nick say you ‘onika burgered’ in your comments?” the doe - eyed boy stared up at you with a look of confusion on his face.

“i-what? since when did you get instagram?” you exasperated, halting your previous movements of sitting on his bed and brushing your hair. matt sat up from laying on his back just a few moments ago as he explained.

“i felt left out.” you chuckled, unable to resist the urge of jumping on him and smothering his face with kisses. his pout turning into a big cheeky smile as you left your sparkly lipgloss all over him.

𓋜 from then on, his instagram consisted of anything and everything that had to do with you. he had gained over half a million followers, but that never halted him from basically being a fan page for his favourite model.

𓋜 his account is truly just an update account for you. posting you on his story, the new cover magazines you’re in, the products you’re modelling for, and the runways you’re walking in.. best believe it’s already all posted on his socials.

𓋜 with matt having absolutely no social media presence unless it was to keep up with you, it’s safe to say that the public was quite confused about who this boy was and how someone as seemingly normal as him stole your heart — a model desired and wanted by everyone.

𓋜 the first few months of you going public with your relationship, the articles were spewing out left and right. the media was on a mission, trying to figure out who matthew sturniolo was.

𓋜 matt is obsessed with taking pictures of you. wether he’s backstage admiring as your makeup artist touches up your face or you’re both at the beach aggressively playing uno with friends — he’ll capture those candid moments!

“ha take your 20 cards idiot!” you yelled, smiling as chris whined about this game being stupid yet picking up the cards from the deck. you couldn’t help but laugh at every cry chris was making as he counted twenty.

matt couldn’t help himself as he grabbed his phone and took multiple pictures of his girlfriend erotically laughing, the piercing blue ocean in the background.

it’s almost as beautiful as her.

that picture remains on the back of his phone from then on, a constant reminder of your angelic essence.

𓋜 matt truly believed you were a real-life doll, and he treated you as such! he picked out the prettiest items for you to wear and learned to tie the ribbons in your hair, always ready for your constant requests to do so.

𓋜 with you being a model and him being in college, the two of you weren’t able to constantly be with each other. traveling was mandatory for your career and matt completely understood that.

𓋜 he would write you love letters, always ensuring he got your suite's number correct, not wanting the pink envelopes to get lost or, worse, sent to the wrong person.

𓋜 his love language is acts of service, so having to occasionally do long distance wasn’t going to stop him from showing his love. the boy would curate an infinite amount of playlists, from songs that reminded him of you to songs that sounded like his love for you.

he takes his craft very seriously

“why did you send me a link of congratulations by mac miller?” you questioned as you stared at your boyfriend’s smirking face on facetime. your phone was perched up on your hotel’s vanity, applying the final touches of your lipstick.

“just a little sneak peek of the playlist i’m making you.” matt answered, laughing at your cute expression.

𓋜 shoots are incredibly draining for you and matt knows that so, he always makes sure that lilies are sent to your dressing room with a cute little note letting you know how proud he is of his doll

𓋜 matt acted like a proud mom when it came to you. buying more than ten magazines and told the cashier that the girl on the cover was his girlfriend. he sat front row at every runway show you walked in, proudly telling the person beside him that his girl was one of the models.

𓋜 he loves matching with you. outfits? you bet! nails? you don’t ever need to ask him twice! jewellery? he already made sure to get a ring and chain that looked exactly like your favourite set!!!

“baby, why the fuck do you have a bow engraved in your ring?” you questioned, puzzled. you were getting ready to go out, and the boy had asked you to grab his rings from the nightstand as he adjusted his button up.

“oh i got someone to engrave the same bow as your favourite necklace.”

𓋜 dates were almost always planned by him.

𓋜 he knows how exhausting your life can be, so his dates usually involve drive-in movie theatres or your favorite activities: picnics and stargazing.

𓋜 he’s completely smitten with you, and he wouldn’t have it any other way..

my inbox is always open !!! pls feed it some content 🪽🎀 likes, comments & reblogs are highly appreciated.

ᨳུ⠀ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. @carvedtits

[stillfoodforguys]

How could I resist a thick, hairy hunk like this, who had the confidence to stand outside his house with almost all of his body on display. He knew he would catch the eye of a stupid young lad like myself, greeting me with a friendly yet sinister smirk as I walked towards him.

I was offered a cup of tea while we chatted, my gaze repeatedly drawn to his bulge every time he rubbed it enticingly. When he eventually led me inside his home, I couldn’t shake this strange feeling in my body. As I walked down the hallway, the walls seemed to stretch further and my clothes began to feel looser. I soon realised once the process sped up that I was shrinking, barely 8 inches tall before the hairy beast reached down to pick me up with his massive hand.

“That’s better, you’ll be much more fun to play with after drinking my special tea. Now, since you were drooling at the sight of my cock, I think you’ll enjoy getting closer acquainted with it!” As I struggled weakly in his grip, I watched him pull his waistband open before dropping me inside, snapping back the elastic to leave me pinned between the fabric and his thick, throbbing shaft. His musk was utterly overwhelming, and the motion of him walking through his house made his sweaty skin rub firmly against my own.

The giant sat on his sofa and slipped off his boxers, laughing at the sight of the tiny man hugging his huge cock. He prised me from his member and flipped me upside down, slowly lowering me until my panicked protests were silenced when he stuffed me headfirst into his slit. It was a tight fit, but he continued pushing until only my feet were left outside, moaning deeply at the way I squirmed within his slimy shaft. He pinched my ankles between his fingers and held me there, his cock throbbing and constricting me tightly while his precum began to fill the space around me.

It was at least ten minutes before he pulled me out again, by which time the scent of his cum had permanently soaked into my skin. He dangled me above his head and opened his maw to catch a drop of salty sauce that trickled down my body, licking his lips afterwards with a blissful expression. “Damn, you’re gonna be so much tastier now that you’ve marinated in my cum for so long…”

Delirious from the treatment his powerful cock had given me, I did nothing to stop him from lowering me slowly into his mouth. My head hit the back of his throat as he rested my body on his soft, wet tongue and closed his lips around my waist. The warmth and powerful stench of his breath washed over me, while his tongue pressed me against the roof of his mouth. Then in a single motion, he slurped up my legs and gulped, sending me hurtling down his gullet and into the sweltering depths of his stomach.

The man smiled as he slapped his hairy abs, the taste of my skin and his cum lingering in his mouth. “Thanks for breakfast.”

[mellowsadistic]

Couples Therapy - Part 2

Angela spent most of the afternoon watching cartoons. She’d been insulted when Eric had sat her in front of the television and put on a little kids’ channel for her, but she’d barely managed to start complaining before the bright colours of the show drew her in. Even if it was a silly plot about a little baby bear leaning to be good for her Daddy, it was actually quite fun to watch.

Later, she made a bit of a mess at dinner, and Eric needed to wipe her mouth clean for her and send her off to change her top. He’d even joked about getting her a bib. Angela had giggled, but really she’d been a bit scared. She didn’t want to wear a bib like a baby, and she didn’t know why she’d had such a hard time getting her food in her mouth like a big girl.

But it wasn’t until she was getting ready for bed that evening that Angela really started to get upset, when she walked into their bedroom and saw the large disposable diaper waiting for her on the bed. She froze immediately at the sight of it. Even though she knew she wore them every night (didn’t she?), there was something about seeing it this time that was different. “I can’t… I don’t want to… I’m not wearing that.”

“Sweetheart,” said Eric, like he was explaining something very simple to someone stupid. “You have to wear your nappy otherwise you’ll make a big mess. You’ll go pee-pee all over the sheets, darling, just like you do every night, and I don’t want to have to wake up in wet sheets.”

Angela blushed. She felt utterly pathetic.

“But it’s okay, baby,” Eric cooed, and Angela felt butterflies fluttering in her tummy at the gentle tone of his voice. “I still think you’re adorable, even with a yucky wet diaper on. I don’t care that you’re not fully potty trained at night, sweetie.”

Angela’s face went even redder, but at the same time a pleasant tingle ran down her spine. Lucky girl. She was a lucky girl to have Eric. She held out her arms hopefully, and he responded by pulling her in for a big cuddle. His hand reached down to cup her bottom possessively.

Angela felt dizzy, she felt drunk, and she didn’t even resist as Eric stripped off all of her clothes and laid her gently down on the bed, with her bare bottom planted right on the seat of the bulky adult nappy. ‘Good girl,” he crooned as he sprinkled her nether regions with baby powder and patted it into her skin. “That’s a good girl.” He taped her diaper tightly around her waist, and pulled her back to her feet. She stood there awkwardly, her legs spread apart by the thickness of her nappy, shifting from foot to foot. Eric started to undress as well, down to his boxer shorts. But he didn’t have any babyish underwear to change into because he was a grown-up.

Angela was about to get into bed when she realised she hadn’t put a top on. Did she usually go to bed topless? She looked down at her large bare breasts and felt a bizarre urge to start jiggling them, to start bouncing them up and down. She giggled. She was such a silly girl!

“What are you giggling at, sweetie?” her husband asked, smiling.

“Nufing!” Angela blushed and shook her head. “I mean, nothing.” She was just being dumb. She was being a silly girl. She couldn’t tell him she’d been thinking about bouncing her boobies – that would be so embarrassing! It definitely wasn’t something that a big girl would do. But then it wasn’t something a little girl would do either, was it? Because they didn’t even have boobies! Angela screwed up her face in concentration.

Eric laughed. “Silly girl! Are you trying to do thinkies? It’s bedtime, sweetie. Time to turn that sweet little brain off.”

Angela scowled. Eric knew she hated being talked down to. She stuck out her bottom lip and stomped her foot to show him how angry she was. “Don’t patwonise me!” she whined.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, but there was something about his eyes that made Angela feel like he was still laughing at her. She got into bed grumpily, her tits jiggling and her diaper crinkling loudly. Eric got into bed next to her and immediately pressed himself right up against her body, reaching round to grab one of her boobs so tightly that she winced. She almost moved away instinctively. Weren’t they fighting about something? Weren’t they angry with each other for some reason? But then she remembered that good girls didn’t do that. Good girls didn’t say no with their mouths or their bodies.

Angela frowned. That didn’t sound right. She wasn’t her husband’s property… was she? But she felt herself getting wet at the thought. It had been a while since they’d have sex, although she wasn’t sure why. She was so horny. She imagined him taking her now, ripping her nappy off and ramming his cock inside her, using her any way he liked. Then she pulled a face, sickened with herself. Where were these thoughts coming from?! She wasn’t a whore! Even so, she didn’t push her husband away. Eric didn’t fuck her that night, but Angela drifted off to sleep with his hard cock pressed firmly against her padded bottom.

When she woke up the next morning, her diaper was soaked with pee-pee. Even though she knew it was something that happened to her every morning (although her actual memories were a little foggy), it still felt strange and embarrassing. It was so yucky! The sodden nappy was cold and clammy, and it reeked of piss. Their whole bedroom smelled like urine now. She’d probably smell like pee herself for the rest of the day. Her new perfume… She untangled herself from Eric’s arms and slipped out of bed, nearly gagging when her diaper sagged as she stood up. It was so heavy!

She heard Eric moving behind her, and turned around. Her husband was propping himself up in bed, looking at her with a smile that was a too much like a smirk. “Do you need changing, sweetie?” he asked.

She looked at him dumbly.

“Do you need me to help?” he tried again, nodding at her waist.

She followed his gaze to the sopping wet Pampers sagging between her thighs, and felt herself going red. No! She didn’t need help changing! She wasn’t a baby! A mental image of herself laying on her back with her legs in the air flashed in her mind, and she shook her head vigorously. “No fank you,” she mumbled. “I mean, no thank you.” What was wrong with her voice? She sounded silly. Silly like that secretary at the therapist’s office. A lisping porn parody. She ran her fingers through her hair and over her bare chest. No pigtails. No stripper tits. She was a big girl. A respectable woman.

“Okay sweetheart,” her husband said, smiling patiently. “Go change your nappy then.”

Angela broke out of her thoughts, realising she’d been standing there stupidly, like she was waiting for his permission to go. She turned around and toddled to the bathroom as quickly as she could, her droopy diaper swinging about between her legs as she went. She imagined she could feel his eyes on her backside and her face burned with shame. She must look so stupid!

She nearly cried when she saw herself in the bathroom mirror. She was a sexy grown woman with great tits and a tight body, right up until you got to her waist, where instead of seeing her cleanly shaved pussy and toned ass, there was a bulky disposable diaper hanging heavily between her legs, clearly full to the brim with wee-wee. When she undid the tapes, it fell to the floor with a wet smack. She got to work cleaning herself up with wet wipes, making sure to get every bit of pee around her nether regions. She couldn’t stand being so dirty. Even as a child, she’d always hated any activities that got her messy. When she was done, she shoved her used nappy in the tiny bathroom bin and wandered back into the bedroom naked.

Eric had arranged her clothes out on the bed for her, and for a moment, Angela could only stare at them in disbelief – a pastel-pink, little-girlish frock with frilly white ankle socks, trainers, and a pair of baby-blue panties with Disney princesses on the crotch. The outfit looked exactly like something a four-year-old would wear. Angela was about to shout, when all of a sudden a strange fuzziness filled her mind. She thought of the lovely swirling colours she’d seen at the therapist’s office, and looked at the clothes again. They were kind of cute. They weren’t baby clothes after all. They just looked a bit silly, and she was a silly girl.

Angela smiled vacantly at Eric when he started to dress her, sliding her underwear up her legs and pulling her frock over her head (“Arms up! That’s a good girl!”), even pulling on her socks and tying her shoelaces for her. She felt looked after. She felt pretty and cute. She felt like a good girl.

Once they were downstairs, she hopped from foot to foot impatiently while Eric put his own shoes on at the door. “Come onnn!” she whined, fidgeting with the hem of her dress, lifting it up absent-mindedly and flashing her adorable little-girl undies.

“Looking forward to seeing the therapist, sweetie?” he asked, chuckling at her immature antics as he finished putting his shoes on and picked up a large sports bag.

Angela nodded her head eagerly. She wanted to see the pretty lights again.

“Good girl,” said Eric, taking her hand. A pleasant tingle ran down Angela’s spine and into her pussy. “Let’s get going, baby.”

[weneeya]

Hi! It's me again! I have this idea, use it as you will.

How about, Suguru being mad at reader for some reason, even a well deserved one, you pick it. He's so mad he won't even look at us. Then we try to convince him to forgive us in THE MOST Suguru fashion: sweet words, sweet touches, just enough to make anyone melt. And then it WORKS.

I call it, "Using my own spells against me, Potter?"

using my own tricks w/ geto m.list | rules

note. hii!! thank u for ur request, once again! I'm so happy to see that you love my work <3 feel free to request :)

Suguru had never been this mad at you before, and you had to admit that you deserved it. He had been waiting for you for hours, calling you again and again, and you didn’t answer him. You simply showed up after two hours like nothing happened because you didn’t see any of his calls or messages. He got really worried, and now he was angry. In fact, he wasn’t even looking at you while you two were installed on the couch of your apartment. 

You tried everything, or at least almost everything, to ease his anger. But nothing worked. You had one last possibility, and you were obviously going to try it. You moved closer to him and he didn't react for a bit. You put your head against his shoulder, as your hand slowly moved to rest on his thigh. You started to draw small circles on it with your fingers, looking right in his direction. 

He didn’t seem to react, but his heart started to race in his chest. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what you were trying to do ; it was only legitimate, he was doing this all the time. But being tricked by your own trick is a bit frustrating. 

“Suguru, look at me,” your voice could finally be heard, soft and gentle, close to his ear. “Don’t stay mad at me, please” your fingers moved slowly to his knee, before going back up to his thigh. “I miss you, I swear I’m sorry.” 

He gulped with difficulty, closing his eyes for a second. He had to resist, he couldn’t fall just for this. But seeing you acting like this -like him-, it was way too attractive. If he didn’t love you this much already, he would have given everything to you. His gaze finally met yours, and you took it as the first step to victory. You could see in his eyes that he was losing it. 

You snuggled a bit closer to him, and your fingers reached his jaw to caress it very slowly. You had a soft smile on your lips, not leaving his gaze. He was about to give up, you had him around your finger. “Please,” you said one more time and a sigh could be heard from him. Finally, you knew it was the time. 

You let your lips meet his for a second, before you looked back at his eyes. He was looking at you, heart pounding and eyes shining. He was at your mercy, and he couldn’t fight against it anymore. He pulled you closer, hiding his face in the crook of your neck before you chuckled slightly. 

“Taken aback by your own tricks, uh?” You said and he answered by biting softly the skin of your neck. It took it personally, but it simply made you laugh again. “Don’t do this too often,” he finally answered, and you waited for him to develop his thoughts. 

“You’re too much to handle when you’re like this,” he added as he moved from his hiding place, looking straight into your eyes. He slowly rested his hand on your cheek, stroking it slightly before he put his forehead against yours, eyes closed. 

Maybe he got tricked by his own methods, but it was worth it. He couldn’t stay mad at you, and seeing you act like this simply made his heart sink a bit more than before.

it was so fun to write omg flustered suguru is making my heart race faster than ever lmao

[theemporium]

a smut-berry daiquiri, 36, & trevor zegras!🤍

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

36. "I know I said we couldn't do this anymore, but I need you. Please."

.

Your brothers would kill you if they found out. 

Not even in a ‘oh haha they would be angry for a while before letting it go’ kind of way.

But a ‘they would bury me six feet under themselves if they found out’ kind of way.

Especially Quinn. 

Growing up so close in age to each other, it meant you and your brothers were naturally always around each other. Your friends were close in age, you were all in school together, everyone knew you as the four Hughes’s. There was never a big age gap to really get in the way, you all felt like best friends growing up and it was great. There was never anything that really came between you. 

Except one rule—no friends. 

After a very awkward situation that resulted in Jack breaking your seventh grade best friend’s heart, it seemed like a simple rule you could all agree on. 

And all things considered, it was never a problem. Despite a few of their friends flirting with you and trying to shoot their shot over the years, the feelings had never been reciprocated. It was easy to stick by the one rule the four of you shared. 

Until Trevor. 

You knew Trevor was a bad idea. He was pretty and charming and he made you laugh. But he was also a long-term friend, he was here to stay. He got on well with your family to the point you swore your parents considered him a fourth son. It would be a bad idea to get yourself wrapped into something that would haunt you for the rest of your life. 

But he was Trevor and you couldn’t really resist him. 

“Shit,” you breathed out, your head falling back to expose more of your neck to him. “No marks.” 

“Thought you said you didn’t wanna do this anymore,” Trevor murmured against your neck in between soft kisses and licks, as he fought the urge to bite down and mark your skin like he so badly wanted to do.

“I don’t,” you said, sighing happily as he kissed the sensitive spot behind your ear. 

“And yet, here you are, letting me fuck you on the boat,” Trevor murmured as he squeezed your thighs and pulled them around his waist. 

It was late. Everyone else was inside and the boat—even docked—was the only place you could get any privacy with Trevor without any of your brothers finding out. It was risky and stupid—but none of those things mattered when you were with him. 

“I know I said we couldn’t do this anymore,” you breathed out, whining when he rolled his hips against yours. “But I need you. Please.”

“Fuck,” Trevor cursed under his breath as he leaned down to smash your lips together. “Gonna fuck you so good, baby, just how you like it.” 

“Please,” you practically begged, reaching down to push his shorts down but he quickly caught your hands and pinned them above your head.��

“Nuh uh,” he shook his head, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you pinned beneath him. “I know you can be good for me. Keep your hands there and don’t move them until I say so. Got it?” 

You nodded, whimpering.

He grinned. “Good girl.”

.

[aetherdoesthings]

I cannot tell you how loud I cackled when the card was revealed. One moment I was cooing at how cute this was and then I start straight up laughing at 2AM. The atrocious spelling of a child 🤣, i loved all of it! I'm wondering if the other kids notice Father's favoritism towards the reader, and how they would react? What if they bully Reader and Father steps up for Reader? 🤭 I love your characterization of Father in here. Much softer than canon which is what I needed.

~EL anon

would you like a new home? (pt 3.1)

forethoughts: thanks for the compliments about part two! i didn't expect my silly love letter to arlecchino to blow up haha. i originally was going to write this as just one big part but i changed plans. part two is called would you like some cake! i also planned for part two to be the last one but i had to sneak one in to give reader and father a happy ending of sorts :)

notes: gn!child!reader, NOT AN X READER READER IS A CHILD IN THIS!!!

You never cared about what the other children thought of you.

Father made sure you would never get hurt.

Father ensured that the very day she gave you your new toys.

Father said not to use the toys, only if I was being attacked then I could use them. 

Father said not to show the other children your toys.

And you always listened to Father to the best of your abilities.

Well, you tried.

You were walking down the hall, admiring the small trinket Father had found you during one of her expeditions. It was a compass, Father said. You followed the red needle, a huge smile at your face as you watched it shift and move.

You held the compass dear to your chest, using two hands to hold each side. Your eyes were glued to the needle you didn’t even notice the leg that swept your shins, causing your grip on the compass to disappear as your body went sideways, landing on your arms. 

Footsteps.

You got up before you could hear another thud, turning around. “Hey!” You exclaimed as one of the other orphans picked up Father’s gift, admiring it themselves.

“What? We were just interested in what you were holding, Y/N.” One of the other orphans snickered. 

“Give it back.” You said, balling your fists. That was Father’s gift to you. Yours. Not theirs.

“Why? You have more gifts than us given by Father. Not having one more isn’t going to kill you, loser.”

Don’t attack. Don’t be quick to anger. Always seek out a compromise before arming yourself. Father’s words rang in your head.

You took a deep breath, blood boiling at the sight of the other orphan haphazardly tossing the compass around. 

“What do you want?” You questioned, feet still spread apart.

“Don’t you get it, you stupid idiot? We want what you have.” 

“You’ve never wanted anything from me.”

“Because you didn’t have anything we wanted.”

“What do you want now?”

“We want Father.”’

Your knuckles started to turn red as your hands fell to your sides. “What?”

“Don’t act like we don’t see how Father treats you. Always first to get food. Extra dessert. No curfew. Bigger room? Who do you think you are? You’re a nobody! You don’t even have friends! Why does Father treat you better than everyone else?!” The orphan shoved you back on the ground, pressing his foot against your head. You stared at the orphan. You couldn’t deny that his words did not hold truth to them. Father did ensure all of that. You never questioned why Father would show you more generosity and kindness compared to the other children. Yes, Father treated everyone equally. That was obvious before you went inside the armory that day. Father still treated everyone equally even after that. You just had… perks.

“I didn’t ask to have a bigger room and no curfew.” You retorted, trying to resist.

“But you have it. And we want that too. So go to Father and tell her you want a smaller room, last in line, no dessert, and an earlier curfew.”

“That’s not fair. I’m not going to do that.” “If you don’t do that, we’ll break the compass. And don't think about lying and saying you did it. We'll know.” The orphan dangled the compass with two fingers, close to the rim. 

“Hey!” You gritted your teeth, hand slowly creeping towards the knife strapped onto your belt. 

“Three…” The orphan sneered, digging his boot deeper into your hair, pressing your head into the ground.

“Two…” Your hand curled around the helm. 

“One…”

Forgive me, Father.

[childrenofcain-if]

How would the ROs react if they got a drunk call/voicemail/texts from the MC in crushing stage?

C LACROIX

C knew they shouldn’t answer. the phone buzzed on the nightstand, its vibrations jittery against the glass, and the name on the screen made their pulse quicken in a way they hated to admit. it was late at night—too late for this. but still, they stared at the screen as if it might explode, as if ignoring it would only make the inevitable worse. and then the buzzing stopped.

for a moment, C breathed, letting the silence reassert itself. they should go to sleep. forget this ever happened. but then the phone chimed again—a voicemail. of course. they stared at the notification, and something tightened in their chest, like a hand slowly squeezing their heart.

they sat on the edge of the bed, phone heavy in their hand. a part of them—a smarter, more prideful part—told them to delete the message without listening. but curiosity won out, and so they pressed play.

at first, all they could hear was the distant thrum of noise, the muffled bassline of whatever frat party you had found yourself at this weekend. then, your voice, slurred and half-laughing, cut through the static, sending a jolt of adrenaline through their veins.

“C...,” you said, drawing out their name like it was a secret only you shared. “you know, you’re so... ugh, you’re so annoying sometimes. but also so fucking perfect.”

their breath caught. the words were clumsy, tangled up in intoxication, but they hit them like a punch to the gut. they could hear you moving, probably stumbling somewhere quiet to make this call—god, what were you even thinking? were you even safe wherever you were?

“i bet you’re at your room, all serious and brooding and studying for an upcoming test or something,” you continued, a teasing lilt creeping into your tone. “and here i am. the funny thing is, i’m the best thing in this party, but you’re not even here to give me a run for my money. i—i guess i just wanted to say... i don’t know, it’s stupid. but you’re... you’re always in my head, C.”

a slow, terrible heat crawled up C’s neck. they clenched their jaw, resisting the urge to throw the phone across the room, to shatter it and end this cruel charade. but they couldn’t stop listening, couldn’t tear themselves away from the wreckage of your voice, drunken and raw.

“i think about you, you know?” your voice cracked, like you were on the verge of something—tears, maybe, or laughter. “all the time. and it’s so... god, it’s stupid, isn’t it?”

C’s grip tightened on the phone. they wanted to yell at you, to tell you to shut up, to stop saying these things that would haunt them, that would make it impossible to face you in the light of day. but the voicemail had its own momentum, dragging them down with it.

“i just—” you sighed, and the sound was so fragile, so unbearably tender, it gave C’s chest a terrible ache. “i just wish... no, it doesn’t matter. forget i called, okay? just... forget it.”

the message ended with a soft click, and then the silence was back, pressing in on them from all sides. C stared at the phone, at the screen that had gone dark, and felt something in them break.

they could delete the message. pretend it never happened. but they knew they wouldn’t. the words were already burned into their memory, seared into their thoughts like a hot iron brand. you, drunk and foolish, had let slip something they had long suspected but never dared to hope for.

but what were they supposed to do with that? how were they supposed to look at you now, knowing that somewhere beneath your teasing and rivalry, you harbored something more? something that could ruin everything that C had been working towards.

they set the phone down, their hands shaking slightly. they couldn’t do this. not tonight. not ever, maybe. but the voicemail was there, waiting for them, a reminder that they couldn’t unhear, couldn’t forget.

C lays back down, staring at the ceiling, but sleep wouldn’t come. only the echo of your voice, looping over and over in their mind—a taunt, a plea, a confession.

tomorrow, they would have to face you, as if nothing had changed. but tonight, in the dark, C let themself wonder what it would be like if things were different. if they weren’t so afraid of wanting what they shouldn’t have. if they weren’t so afraid of wanting you.

V NÆSHOLM

V stared at their phone, the soft glow of the screen the only light in the dim room. it was past midnight, and the world outside was still, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. they had been half-asleep, drifting in that hazy space between dreams and wakefulness, when the phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling them back to consciousness.

they frowned at the name on the screen—yours. a voicemail. the edges of their vision blurred with fatigue, but they blinked it away, curiosity winning out over sleep. it wasn’t like you to call this late when you were out of your shared suite, especially not without reason.

V hesitated, thumb hovering over the play button. something in their chest twisted—a familiar, unwelcome sensation that had become all too frequent whenever you were involved. but there was a weight to this moment, a sense that once they pressed play, there would be no going back.

with a resigned breath, they tapped the screen, bringing the phone to their ear.

at first, there was nothing but static, a low hum of background noise that made V wonder if you had butt-dialed them by accident. but then, your voice came through, breathless and uneven, like you’d been running—or like you were trying to hold something back.

“vinny,” you slurred, the sound of their nickname on your lips sending a shiver down their spine. “i don’t... i don’t know why i’m calling. okay, maybe i do, but it’s stupid either way.”

V’s heart skipped a beat. they could tell you were drunk—drunker than they’d ever heard you before. it was unsettling, hearing you like this, your usual composure unraveling, leaving only raw edges and half-formed thoughts.

“i just—” you broke off, and they could hear you fumbling with something, maybe your keys or your coat, before you let out a soft, frustrated sigh. “you’re so... damn it, vinny, why do you have to be so... so good?”

good. the word hung in the air between them, more accusation than compliment. V swallowed, their throat dry, as they tried to make sense of what you were saying—or what you weren’t saying.

“you know, i... i think about you,” you admitted, and there was a crack in your voice, something fragile and uncertain. “more than i should. more than is... normal, i think. i wonder what your god would say if he could hear my thoughts.”

a flood of warmth spread through V’s chest, tinged with something sharper—fear, maybe, or anticipation. they should stop listening. delete the message, pretend it never happened. but your voice held them captive, every word a stone dropped into the still water of their mind, sending ripples they couldn’t control.

“i don’t even know why i’m telling you this,” you continued, a bitter laugh catching in your throat. “you’re probably in your room, doing something important, not thinking about me at all. jesus, i’m so stupid.”

you were rambling now, your words slurring together in a way that made V’s heart ache. they hated hearing you like this—open, exposed, laying bare feelings that neither of you were ready to confront yet. not like this.

“i just... i just needed to say it, okay? even if you don’t... even if you don’t feel the same. i just needed you to know.”

the message ended with a click, and the silence that followed was suffocating. V lowered the phone, their hand trembling slightly as they stared at the screen, the words ‘voicemail ended’ burning into their retinas.

you thought about them. more than was normal. the confession echoed in their mind, turning over and over until it became something almost unbearable. they should feel relieved, even happy. but all they felt was a gnawing paranoia, a tightening in their chest that made it hard to breathe.

they couldn’t call you back—not now, not when you were in that state. but they couldn’t just ignore what you had said, either. the words were out there now, hanging in the air like a storm cloud, ready to burst at any moment.

V lays back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, their thoughts spiraling. they should pray—turn to christ in this moment of confusion, seek solace in the familiar comfort of their faith. but even as they reached for the small cross they always wore, they hesitated.

because what did it mean, that you had called them? that you had chosen to share this with them, in the darkest hour of the night, when all the world was asleep? what did it mean for them—V, who had tried so hard to keep their feelings buried, to pretend that you were nothing more than a friend, a suitemate, a fleeting thought in the back of their mind?

they pressed the cross to their lips, closing their eyes, but the prayer they sought wouldn’t come. all they could think about was you, your voice, your words, the way you had sounded so lost, so certain and yet so confused.

and V was left there, clutching at faith, as the weight of your confession settled over them like a shroud, heavy and too inescapable.

W OSTENDORF

W’s phone buzzed against the wooden nightstand, a low hum that pierced through the quiet of his dorm room. they weren’t used to the sound this late, their evenings typically slipping into a routine of studying, watching film theories and sleep, with little disruption. when they saw your name light up the screen, their heart stuttered, a flicker of both excitement and dread washing over them.

they tapped the screen, lifting the phone to their ear as they stared into the dim light of the room. your voice came through, breathless and uncertain, slurred just enough to reveal the state you were in.

“elmo… i don’t know why i’m doing this,” you murmured, and W sat up a little straighter, the anxiousness ebbing away.

they could picture you—probably in your room, pacing, or maybe curled up on your bed, staring at the ceiling. you’d been drinking, that much was obvious, but there was something else in your tone, something raw and exposed that made W’s heart clench.

“i’ve been thinking,” you continued, your voice dipping into something softer, more hesitant. “about us. about you. and i just… i don’t know. i thought maybe i should tell you.”

W’s breath caught. they leaned back against their chair, the cool wood pressing into their spine as they listened. they had never heard you like this—so unguarded, so vulnerable. it was like you were stripping yourself bare, piece by piece, leaving nothing but for them to stare in awe at you.

“i don’t know if this is going to mess things up. mess almost two decades worth of friendship,” you said, your words starting to tangle, like you were fighting to keep them straight. “but i think about you a lot, elmo. more than i should. more than just my best friend.”

a wave of warmth spread through W’s chest, followed by a sharp twist of anxiety. they wanted to say something, to reach through the phone and tell you that it was okay, that they felt the same way—that they’ve felt the same for almost as long as they’d known you. but the words were stuck in their throat, trapped by a thousand what-ifs and maybes.

“i don’t even know why i’m telling you this,” you added with a bitter laugh. “you’re probably sitting there, rolling your eyes, thinking how ridiculous i sound.”

W shook their head, even though you couldn’t see it.

“no,” they whispered, the word slipping out before they could stop it. they weren’t thinking that at all. they were thinking about how they had been waiting for this—for you to break the silence between you, to say the words they hadn’t dared to speak themselves for ages.

“i just… i needed you to know,” you finished, your voice trailing off into a silence that felt heavier than anything W had ever known.

the voicemail ended, and W was left holding the phone, the screen dark and empty now. they stared at it, as if willing it to light up again, to bring your voice back into the quiet of their room. but it stayed still, lifeless, and the weight of what you’d said settled over them like a suffocating cloud.

they wanted to go to your room, to see you, to tell you that you weren’t ridiculous, that they understood, that they’d been feeling the same way. but they stayed where they were, frozen in place by the magnitude of what you had just admitted.

instead, their fingers drummed an unsteady rhythm on the desk as they turned the words over in their mind. they should focus on the film they were watching, they thought, but their sapphire blue eyes had already glazed over. all they could do was think of you, your voice, the way you had sounded so lost, so sure and unsure at the same time.

they weren’t sure if they had just saved something or lost everything, but one thing was certain: they couldn’t pretend anymore. not after tonight.

D DIACONU

D knew the exact moment their phone buzzed with your name flashing across the screen that something had shifted between you two. they’d been sprawled out on their bed, a half-empty glass of something strong and amber being nursed beside them, the dim glow of their room casting long shadows across the walls. it was late, late enough that no one should be calling unless they had something to say, and so when they saw your name flickered across the screen, D’s lips curled into a lazy smile.

they didn’t hesitate before picking the call up, not quite sure what they were expecting, but your voice—a little slurred, a little too honest—cut through the quiet like a knife.

“rook,” you breathed out, their nickname almost a sigh, and something in the way you said it made them sit up a little straighter. “i don’t… i don’t know why i’m calling, i just… i was thinking about you.”

they could hear the hesitation in your words, the way they tumbled out like you were trying to catch them before they could escape. D was silent, letting you speak, because they knew better than to interrupt—knew how fragile these moments were, how easily they could break if not handled with care.

“i’ve been drinking,” you admitted, as if it wasn’t obvious. “and i don’t… i don’t think i should be telling you this, but i can’t stop thinking about you. it’s like, no matter what i do, you’re just… there.”

they could picture you in their mind’s eye, flushed and a little unsteady, trying to piece together the words you’d been holding back. and then you said it, the words that broke through their carefully constructed walls. “i think… i think i like you more than i should.”

D didn’t respond immediately. they didn’t know how to. they weren’t used to hearing things like this from you—weren’t used to feeling anything but the usual amusement and pleasure that your unusual ‘friendship’ brought them. but this was different. you were different tonight, leaving D with a mess of emotions they weren’t prepared for.

“what are you doing, dragă?” they finally asked, the endearment slipping out before they could stop it. “you’re drunk.”

but even as they said it, D knew it was more than that. alcohol might have loosened your tongue, but there was truth in your words, and that was what unsettled them the most. they’d always been the one in control, the one who kept things light and fun, but now the tables had turned, and they weren’t sure how to handle it.

“i know,” you mumbled, your voice thick with regret. “i’m sorry, i just… i couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”

D could hear the frustration in your voice, the way you were struggling to make sense of what you were feeling. and in that moment, they hated how vulnerable you sounded, how exposed you were. you were supposed to be the strong one, the one who kept it together. not this.

but instead of brushing it off, instead of making a joke like they usually would, D found themselves gripping the phone tighter, their usual nonchalance slipping away.

“you’re not making a fool of yourself,” they said, their voice softer than it had any right to be. “it’s okay.”

there was a pause, and for a moment, D thought maybe you’d fallen asleep, the alcohol finally pulling you under. but then you spoke again, your voice barely a whisper, and it sent a shiver down their spine.

“i wish i could hate you,” you said, the words almost lost in the static of the call, but D heard them, and they felt like a punch to the gut. “it would be so much easier if i could just… hate you.”

D swallowed hard, the usual playful confidence that defined them nowhere to be found. “get some sleep, dragă. we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

you didn’t respond, but D could hear your soft breathing on the other end of the line, a reminder of just how close they’d come to something they weren’t sure they were ready for.

with a sigh, D set their phone down on the bed and drained the rest of their drink, the burn in their throat a welcome distraction from the mess you’d just left behind in their mind. they didn’t know what the hell to do with these feelings, didn’t even know if they wanted to, but one thing was clear—they weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight, not with your voice still echoing in their head, not with the knowledge that you were out there, feeling something for them they weren’t sure they could fully return.

M WHITLOCK-SINGH

M had been alone in their dorm room, the only company the muted glow of their desk lamp and the low tones of an old jazz track drifting through the air. the night was almost completely quiet and they were lost in the slow, methodical process of reviewing notes for their global affairs exam, when their phone buzzed with a notification for a voicemail. the name that flashed on the screen made them pause, their fingers hovering over their laptop.

the slur in your voice was unmistakable even before they opened the voicemail. “hey max, i don’t know if you’re awake, but i just—”

M felt a pang of something unsettling. it wasn’t pity, but it was close. they could hear the undercurrent of vulnerability in your voice, the way the alcohol seemed to dissolve the barriers between you.

“—thought about you,” you continued, and M could hear the struggle in your tone, like you were grappling with the honesty that the drink had loosened. “it’s stupid, but i keep thinking about how... how you make everything... better.”

M’s fingers brushed the screen as if it was the map of your face. there was a part of them that wanted to smile, to find amusement in your clumsy declarations, but another part—a quieter, more serious part—was deeply affected. this wasn’t some casual confession. this was raw, unfiltered, and it unsettled them in a way they hadn’t expected.

they knew that tomorrow you would wake up, perhaps embarrassed or regretful, and that this call would become a hazy memory. but tonight, it was real, and it was a window into a side of you that you rarely showed. they could almost picture you, stumbling over your words, the warmth of the drink still lingering on your lips as you reached out to them in this stumbling state.

M sat back in their chair. they weren’t sure how to respond, how to offer comfort without seeming insincere. they weren’t very good with these kinds of emotions, the messy, complicated ones that came with late-night confessions and drunken bravado.

they tapped out a quick text, their fingers moving with a practiced efficiency: hey. got your message. i’m here if you need to talk. no judgment.

they paused before sending it, the gravity of the situation making them hesitate. they weren’t just acknowledging your voicemail; they were opening a door to something more intimate, something that required them to be more than just a passive listener. finally, they hit send, the message disappearing into the void of digital webs.

M leaned back, staring at the ceiling, the jazz tunes still playing softly in the background. they knew that your feelings were tangled in the alcohol, but a part of them couldn’t ignore the genuineness in your voice. it was a side of you that they wanted to understand better, even if it was shrouded in the haze of drunken stupors.

M closed their eyes, but drowsiness seemed to have become a distant thing, lost in the haze of your confession. they didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to respond, but one thing was clear—they couldn’t ignore this. not anymore. not when you had laid it all out so bare, leaving them to pick up the pieces.