#which may spur me to write but it may not

[rivalsforlife]

both edgeworth and phoenix are tricky characters to write imo. edgeworth because it is far too easy to get into writing him too stuffy, and it's hard to deal with his Problems when he despises attention and does not want anyone to deal with them. phoenix because he wants to be written like an everyman but he is the guy who considers "become a lawyer to see your friend you haven't seen since you were nine" as a normal thought pattern. something is deeply wrong with both of them but not always in the way you expect and it's hard to get around

[pushingdaisies1]

Kinda hate you, kinda love you . . . ♡

(✧ ˚.) PAIRING-> James "Logan" Howlett {A.K.A} Wolverine x Reader >_< (✧ ˚.) SUMMARY -> Being an X-men was a lot for you to sign up for. Well.. you didn't have a chance to deny this safe haven. The school became your home and the people that made up the X-men like a weird little familial unit. You had many reasons for staying as long as you did, but one was more prickly and jaded. The feelings you harbored for a stern and calloused Logan were.. weird for you to feel firsthand. One day, you are stuck overlooking a danger room drill between Gambit and Logan. With the new member of your world-saving team Jubilee by your side, it's too dull to NOT talk with each other. She was a good kid, hyperactive and spirited that's for sure. You talk, and talk a lot you do to the human embodiment of the fourth of July. It makes you think a little bit too hard about yours and Logans... predicament. (✧ ˚.) AUTHORS NOTE -> Hiii!!! This is my first time writing stuff for Logan so - bee tee dubs it may be complete and utter horse shit. I'd like to thank @velvrei for helping me ignite some well-dead thoughts. Genuinely love ur work sm and reading that and a lot more new/old logan content helped TONS. This is linked to the {♡x-men animated series/x-men97♡} series. I do wanna write more for the Deadpool timeline xmen/early 2000s timeline xmen!! But after seeing the masterpiece that is Deadpool and Wolverine, I lowkey just clung to those shows. I love animated Logan!! He is even more emotionally stunted/sassy sad!! (✧ ˚.) CWS (?) -> Logan nd u are sad ppl who don't know how to voice ur feelings!! , pining from afar/one-sided not so one-sided yearning, UHM HURT/KINDA COMFORT??? MAYBE??? I THINK??? , unprompted suggestiveness from logan , mentions of struggling to connect with other ppl/fears of the future (bay bay jubilee my love) , u and Jubilee just kinda bond, off topic idk cajun dialect so..... , and u infodump as a weird suto older sister/mom in her life, this was all very spur of the moment so uhm - not proofread!!! kinda!!!!!!!

The dangeroom was a room a lot of the X-men team spent their time in. To either train for a new threat or for general movement, drills were a common theme. Especially after world-shaking events, which were always somehow a constant, the professor was the equivalent of an alarm clock. Drills this, always having to run down into the war room. You didn't mind the training sessions if it was one-on-one or even with the whole team. Sometimes though, it was almost nagging. 

Though there were little things you'd do to pass this time. If you were made to overlook it or otherwise. Most of the time there didn't need to be supervision within the training center itself. Everyone was on high alert, and off days were few and far between. Logan had been hashing it out with Gambit all morning and wanted to do a specific procedure setting. You held your head in your hands as you sighed at the grown men's demands. Gambit was a professional sweet talker, Logan wasn't when needed. Of course, you complied, understanding the sudden want for more extensive training. When Jubilee volunteered you started to not loathe the idea of sitting in on Logan and Gambit - literally butting heads. 

Jubilee was a nice kid, you felt bad for her sudden entrance into life within the school. The professor was welcoming as always. With your push and her foster parents wanting her to be safe from threats like the sentinels, she was a bonified member.

Being the "newbie" always had its drawbacks. From day one you made sure to have her back, you could relate to her whole fish-out-of-water point of view. Logan saw the way you attached fast to the kid. He was like a vault of thoughts and feelings. Thoughts and feelings he never wanted to bring up or even let alone talk about. But it made your heart flutter just a tad when he sat his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing a thumb against it.

He had stopped you before you were about to retire to your room. In the doorway to your personal, pillow escape he made sure to reel you down to earth. "Give the kid some breathing room. I know you want to help but there's no use for you smothering her."

You were almost baffled. What was he going on about? You were just looking out for her? Deep down, you did know what he meant. He might have not been a long-term X-Men member. But he did know you and the fragments of "memories" you held so dearly close to your chest. You two were so different and yet one in the same. Before you could even argue, he gave you a small .. somewhat comforting pat on said shoulder. "Just a friendly word of advice bub, don't take it so close to heart. Oh wait, that's inevitable." He joked at you with his signature toothy grin. You couldn't help but scoff in surprise and laughter as he jabbed at you with his SINGULAR witty remark.

Logan could be many things. Rough around the edges, even a total asshole when he felt like it. But to you, he was your kryptonite. It was pathetic the way you'd always eventually be pulled to bend at that man's every word. He just did that to you, and you had no answer to it. 

Making your way up to the upper room with Jubilee, you watched with tired eyes as the door to the observation room slid open. Cold - walls and floor head to toe with this sleek metal texture. There were two chairs, right behind the control panel where the training sequence(s) would be initiated. Your eyes were trained on the window as you watched Gambit and Logan make their entrance inside the training room itself. Gambit of course was rapidly shuffling a deck of cards. They were almost flying in the palms of his hands as he prepared them. Logan was of course blabbing his big mouth, in his signature suit "lumbering up" as he would call it. Finally, as you just now sat your bottom into the smooth-cushioned observation chairs, Jubilee was already starting the conversation. Thank god for you as you were still shaking the morning off of you."So what? , we just watch them throw around with each other, or what?" She cracked with a curious glance at the two men down below. You rested your chin in the palm of your hand as you leaned back. "Pretty much, we're here just in case the system doesn't shut down in time. Sometimes it does that."

She paused before she gave you a pointed look, her chunky pink sunglasses almost falling off of her black head of hair. "We're babysitting them!?" She retorted with a sort of faux annoyance. "I mean it's 'something' to do but - come on...." She groaned as she crossed her arms, heavy in on the air quotations. Cutting in, you directed your hand to the control panel. "No no no, not just that.”

Gathering your thoughts, you pointed out each scenario on the deck. You couldn't help but crack a smile at Jubilee's small "ohs" and "ah's". With the development, you two were brought into a nice steady stream of conversation. Hunched in her seat, yellow boots crinkling in this position, she poked and prodded you about your style and so on. it was nice to be looked at with such idealization. Her eyes were huge with wonder as she jumped to questions and searched for answers. Though it was only so nice until the two of you were interrupted by the impact of a card deck. As it smacked against the window, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Hitting the intercom, you cleared your throat. "So sorry gentlemen! You two ready or what?" You retorted as you leaned over the panel. Gambit gathered back the cards into his hands. "Me? , 'course cher! Any day I would love to stick it to da fuzz ball over der." He remarked with a scheming smirk. Logan growled as his claws immediately sprouted from his knuckles. "I'll show you fuzz ball you pest." His lip curled up almost like a predator ready to pounce.

Jubilee sat back quiet as a mouse as she watched you talk through to the two. "Alrighty alright! Save the pouncing for later." You barked with a small chuckle at the end. You couldn't help but feel buzzy at the way Logan reared his head up. Gambit was too busy swapping cards from hand to hand. But all of Logan's attention was just on you, it was always just on you.

 "Okay, how are we feeling about the ruined city for today?" You asked the two as Gambit started to twirl a card in between his middle and pointer fingers. "Yes yes yes, dat will do just nicely, right Wolvie?" He asserted - training a hard on the hard-headed "foe." Logan's voice was low and gruff as he found his stance. "Don't get so ahead of yourself Gamby." He retorted as he turned back to you in the window. "Start it up doll, before this one here loses all of his spice." He barked with a laugh as Logan jostled his mask on. You rolled your eyes with a faint smile. "If you say so, bee-tee-dubs .. don't kill each other! Please and thank you." You affirmed as the array of buttons were clicked. As the scenery shifted into a torn-down cityscape, foes were already on the two men. The only fun thing about watching over the training sessions was getting to watch fellow X-Men in action. Just not with the risk of losing your life in the process. Leaning back into your chair, you took in a nice breath of air. Peace, for now at least. Jubilee sat up more straight, letting her bright yellow duster-like jacket collect at the sides of her chair. She brought her legs to her chest as both you and she watched Gambit and Logans fighting. You could feel her eyes wander to you in the quiet. You looked directly towards her, a sympathetic smile gracing your face. "How are you feeling?" Your voice was small but warm, comforting almost. This was the first time someone had even really asked her. "I don't know... it's like everything is just changing at once. I feel like a big Rubix cube." She said with a frown as she got more comfortable where she sat. You nodded your head in almost remembrance. "Trust me, becoming an X-men isn't the hardest part. It's living like one." Admitting with a soft sort of comfort, Jubilee was already warmer than before. The training session flew by as you two just talked and talked. She lamented about what life would be like now, what she would and wouldn't miss. How she was stripped of living like a normal teenager. "I mean everyone here has already been so nice to me, but this is just gonna take a lot of getting used to. ", she would lament to you in honesty. You tried to be as insightful as possible. Telling her that living as an X-men will always be tricky. But there will always be the people around here that'll keep you steady. Her ears perked up when you listed off your so-called "anchors." She immediately butted in after you listed off the Wolverine himself, Logan. "That guy? You two seem to be always at each other's throats?" She cracked at you with an inquisitive grin. "Well I mean yeah - he can be .. overly confident a lot of the time." You were almost reminding yourself. You didn't realize how long you spent talking about your scruffy metal-clawed 'friend.' You went on and on about how he combated with you in the best possible ways. How with his time in the X-Men, he opened up your worldview in many instances. He did so much to you and for you. He was almost like your escape in a way, and he maybe shared the same view. You didn't get into the nitty-gritty details of it, 'cause ew. But the moments away from daily life hecticness within the school you and he shared were your favorite. His arms were the sweetest embrace anyone could ask for. But that's what friends do, that's what friends are for.

 Though you always wondered if maybe you were wrong. Maybe you were holding on to nothing. Maybe there was an intimate connection between you two hiding under the surface. But you had a track record of getting your hopes up. You dashed those daydreams away as Jubilee yanked you back down into the now of things. Time flew by as the training sequence ended. Logan was immediately gloating his way out of the danger room. You and Jubilee met the two halfway. Gambit sang your high praises as he lamented about kicking Logan's ass in the drill. As the two grown men bickered Jubilee made her exit known. Since the professor was already summoning them all to the war room. Gambit waved you off with a small wink and another grand shuffle of his cards. Which just left you and logan ... fun. 

He quirked his brow in your direction as he realized your quiet demeanor. “Can you believe the guy? - come on bub you saw me!” He said in astonishment at Gambit's gambit tendencies. You crinkled your nose in a small giggle. If you were seeing straight, you couldn’t help but notice a small dash of a smile on Logan's face once he saw your mood brighten. His smile always found ways to make your knees weak and arms all jelly. “Yeah yeah, dont get your panties in a twist Lo.” You said with a twinkle in your eye. A grin followed spreading almost ear to ear.

His eyes softened ever so slightly with your jokes. He grumbled out his poorest joke yet. “Oh, I’ll show you.” He retorted before yanking you into him. Your back met his chest plate as you felt his collection of sweat. His muscled arms wrapped around your midsection as he whirled you around like a windmill. You ignited with laughter and “yucks” as you felt his sweat spreading onto you. You fought out his hold with a grimace and a sheepish chuckle, wiping your eye. “Christ man, you got all your .. muck on me!”

By now his claws were already dashed away. So his hands were now placed on his hips. He rolled his eyes as he looked you up and down. “Come on, you’ll live to see another day shrimpy.” He claimed with his eyes slowly wandering. “I look like a wet dog thanks to you.” You frowned jokingly, shaking your arms out. “On and on with you.” He remarked once again with his eyes rolling AGAIN soon after.

Closer and closer the two of you got as you both threw phony insults back and forth. Before your lips were inches away from one another. He drawled his quick mouth up and spat back something that would leave your mind in utter… shock. Was confusion the right word?  “Don’t play around with me, dimples. I know you’d like more than just my arms around you.” You quickly gasped out the pocket of air you were holding onto. A long pause was felt throughout the hall before you two darted in separate ways.

“I need to change!” You sheepishly shouted as you headed in the opposite direction of him. He did the same, mumbling whatever under his breath. “Don’t slip and fall!” He coughed out as you rubbed your face in annoyance. “Eat shit, Logan!” , “That’ll be a long time coming!” The both of you remarked to the other in unison. Both of your voices share the same sort of flustered frustration. You raced into the showers as you soon stumbled towards the sinks.

You splashed your face with cold water as your heart was still racing. Your cheeks were burning up let alone from his words. But you were soon able to catch up with your breath. Regaining your composure you looked yourself in the mirror. Gritting your teeth as you looked at the fool Logan made you. The Wolverine could be a hard-headed buffoon. Always on his way to making a snide insult with whichever X-men member was disagreeing with him. But god damn it was he your poison. You hated him and he hated you. That was the thing that kept you steady as you changed into uniform and raced towards the ongoing meeting. You knew that same smile still lingered on your face once you made your entrance into the war room. Able to brush off the team's sudden accusations as you made sure to remind everyone about the issue at hand. The Professor thanked you as he went back to discussing what new threats plagued human life. Your eyes always made their way back to Logans with small lingers. Making eye contact with you, his eye-line was diverted by you as you turned your attention back to the professor. The Wolverine was a fool, and he had already found purchase in your foolish heart. 

ꔫ✉ reblogs/interaction is appreciated <3 part two - ⭐️

[shiny-jr]

from DIASOMNIA

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader. 

- Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: This is just the first part, only with Diasomnia. I’ll post the rest later once its written. For now, I hope you enjoy this part! Oh, and this was inspired by the mention of letters @qierxing​‘s fic inspired by the whole imposter au idea. So yeah. Hopefully I caught all the mistakes in this post because I am not rereading all that again.

Diasomnia   |   Ignihyde

Among the first letters you pick is carefully sealed in a black envelope. You found it peculiar that Grim, who had offered to use his claws to open the envelopes, hadn’t been able to cause the slightest tear as if it were being protected by some magic. But it opened with ease during your first attempt to rip it open.

You didn’t care much for the wax family crest that had sealed it, or the black envelope itself. Maybe it would feel liberating to just set them all ablaze as soon as you finished skimming over the carefully written words.

To my dearest human,

I understand the pain I have caused you.

Ever since that moment I betrayed you, all I have seen in my vision and in my mind is your expression of terror. It tortures me. Your terror spurred by my actions and my very own hands. I am your most beloved and loyalest of companions in this world, and yet, had my retainers behind those doors not intervened, you would have been gone forever. And it would have been all my doing, all my fault.

I write this letter to apologize, but as I write this, I realize that there is no forgiving what has been done. Ever. No matter how I plead or what comes from my lips. But I will say this: there are no amount of words that can truly convey how sorry I am. This will haunt me for the remainder of my centuries of life.

Agonizing thoughts plague my mind and torment me at all hours of the day and night, at every and each moment. Even now, I reflect on everything I had done to harm you. While, the time I believed in those falsehoods was minuscule compared to the days others knew and acted upon it, the fact still stands that I was too easily deceived by mere rumors alone. I was blinded by my rage when I heard that someone dared to impersonate you and had been the probable cause of your vessel’s malfunction, that I did not even take a brief respite to consider the validity of the information that reached my ears.

Believe me, although I realize you have no reason to hold even a shred of faith in a single word I say and for that I would not blame you, but I will atone for the crimes I have committed. In any way possible. Even if it takes my entire lifetime, I will continue forward until I have achieved this goal and you may smile upon me once again. There is a human saying, which if I recall correctly I believe goes something like, forgive but never forget. Well, I would beg for forgiveness, while knowing full well that my misdeeds will never truly be forgotten. The harm I inflicted will leave scars that will never fully fade.

For every scratch my nails left on your delicate flesh, you may drive vines of the sharpest thorns against my own skin until blood pools all around me. For every bruise from my hand that tainted you, I would hand you an iron sword to use as you wish against me until you believe I’ve had enough. If it pleased you, I would even utilize my magic to transform into a figure with wings, which I would then proceed to sever the wings by my own hand and offer them to you on a silver platter.

Any punishment you can think of, I would readily accept.

Although living with the guilt of my mistakes and knowledge of the weight of my actions against you, is by far the most painful torture I’ve ever known.

If I do not receive word from you soon, I fear I may go insane with my own guilt. Yet I know I bring this upon myself. And if I were to go insane, if I was not insane this entire time already, you are all that would be in my thoughts. You are all that would remain in the part of my mind that is intact. You are currently and have been all that I think of, so perhaps my sanity is already long gone.

I would venture into the deepest crevices of hell and back, just to prove my worth to you. Even if I must be punished for the rest of my life, so be it. But I implore you to allow me to redeem myself, let yourself bear witness to the incredible feats I may accomplish in your name. Redemption... The thought of perhaps one day receiving the blessing of your smile and your grace once more in the near or distant future, is the light at the end of the tunnel in this dark period of my existence. I am yours. Whether you still desire me or not, I will forever be yours, and I will brave through trials of fire to demonstrate my eternal devotion to you.

Just know that I will do everything in my power to please you. Whether it be to fulfill the judgement you cast upon me, to demonstrate my worth and determination to achieve redemption, or simply because you command it so, it shall be done. 

For now, I will wait on your response and deliberate over my next course of action. Should you desire anything, anything at all, wether it be something as simple as traveling to the store for a purchase, you have a moment of recluse and desire company, or if you command me to move the island or clear the very heavens, all you must do is speak my name. Then, consider it done. Once my name is upon your lips, I will be there as the last syllable leaves your tongue. 

I will await the moment I am summoned.

Forever yours,

Malleus Draconia

That was... unnerving. Your hand unconsciously drifted up to the slight puncture wounds on your neck. They had long since dried, but you vividly remember feeling the thin trail of crimson being drawn and dripping down like a steady stream. 

You could remember the way Malleus withdrew as soon as he realized the truth, like he had been burned with his hands on you in that fashion. The blood, your blood, staining his sharpened nails. The red was deeper than any nail polish or ink. 

You were nearly sent spiraling, until you felt a tap and the texture of paper against your arm. When you glance down, you see Grim pressing his paws with another crumpled letter onto you. The ink on this letter is red, but the feline’s wide curious eyes are a glowing blue. 

“You okay? What’s so interesting about that wall you’re lookin’ at? You’re kinda just staring off into nothing there.” 

Offering a grateful nod to Grim who frowned worriedly, you accept the already opened envelope while tossing aside the letter from Malleus. “I’m good. Just... thinking.” 

Lifting a hand, you place your palm against his head and scratch the spot behind his ears. Grim lets out a content purr and holds a bag of junk food, which he probably found among the mountain of gifts, and curls up beside you. You continue the slow and soothing scratches as you use your freehand to unravel the letter Grim brought you from the towering stacks. 

This envelope was already cut open. It was a light brown and more square-shaped as thin rope kept it tied together. It had a mash of colorful strings that formed a messy bow to top it off. At least, you assumed it was meant to be a bow, but it looked more like a messy knot that would be impossible to untangle. Good thing it was already partially cut by Grim’s claws earlier. 

As mentioned, the ink was red, an interesting choice. While the handwriting was not as elegant as Malleus’ letter. Some words were written neatly, before falling off the line and blending with other words. Making it a bit difficult to read, but you managed. 

If you’re reading this, 

This means that I am not irredeemable in your eyes. 

Had I been beyond redemption, you would have not even opened this letter. If this was a lost cause, a merry dance, this paper would’ve been tossed into the trash without a second thought. But, my words have reached you. You’re reading this right now, aren’t you? It’s why I decided to write this. I could predict the actions you’d take. You are different from your vessel, but it’s only natural that you would act similarly to the silly little doll you controlled, the same doll that sparked this whole fiasco. 

I truly am so sorry if I frightened you. While I will admit, it was my intention to strike fear into your heart and use you to serve for another dubious purpose, that was when I hadn’t recognized you. Although, I know this doesn’t mean much to you, I figured I should be entirely honest to you. It’s the least I can do. I’m such a fool for being quick to believe the rumors like some sort of senseless child.

All I can do now, is remain true and offer up my loyalty. It’s nothing compared to the mistakes I made, and I’ve made plenty, but I know an apology will never suffice. So, even if you’re still uncertain about redemption, I’ll remain loyal. Among all the beings and creatures I’ve met in my lifetime, you remain an enigma. You’re human, but at the same time, you’re different. There continues to be so much I do not know of you. I wonder, could you hear me whenever I spoke to your plaything? Do you recall the stories I told, of my time as a reckless youth? Foolhardy, wild, that I was. But I was also fiercely loyal. For the Draconias, I razed down all foes like wheat in a field. 

Now that I consider it, perhaps it's best if you hadn’t heard me recount those tales. While I had been eager to share with you my experiences and act out my thrilling adventures, perhaps my story telling was much too graphic. I wouldn’t want the vivid details of bloodshed to be cause for alarm as our most recent encounter was far from pleasant. You have to forgive me, sometimes I get carried away when narrating my accomplishments and exploits. I’ll share more light-hearted memories with you the next time we meet. 

Our first meeting with your true self really went abysmally, didn’t it? I know that things never really go as planned, so I don’t bother planning such things in advance. But, I had pictured it to be a lovely moment. Silver and Sebek would look at you with shining eyes and proclaim their loyalty as they had practiced vows over and over again for such an occasion, I would get to embrace your true form and unlock your secrets, and of course Malleus would be truly content for once as he finally received the company he deserved. 

But, as expected, things didn’t go accordingly. 

Those three youths are miserable, thinking of the proper words to pen, a way to apologize for the suffering they’ve caused. But now, we are the ones suffering because we hurt you. 

They write and write, but tear their letters over and over again as they believe no words they’ve written so far are adequate. Soon they’ll realize that no words will ever be sufficient for an apology. Even if they were to create new words that are unheard of by any dictionary, it would not come close to being enough. That’s why I’ve decided to stick with this single attempt, because I already know that nothing I ever write will measure up to being acceptable. 

There is something about you that always leaves me bemused. Your grace left me feeling dizzy and giddy, like I was experiencing a little crush again, although this was much more intense than any crush. The truth about your vessel controlled by you, had me perplexed as I had never heard of such a thing. And well, the disastrous chase that followed your arrival... you know that part well and could assume how I feel about that from what I’ve told you. At present, all I can do is remain loyal, for what my loyalty is worth to you. Beyond that, despite having an abundance of experiences, there is no such situation that could have prepared me for this moment. 

Genuinely, I am stumped once again. I cannot even envision what can be done with my own two hands, that can be worthy of your attention once again and earn me redemption. But, you can be certain of one thing, and that is: my loyalty is undying. I still have a few years left in these old bones of mine, and I will use the rest of my life to serve you. 

Whether you want me or not. If you still want me, I will be of use to you. Whatever you are in need of, a soldier, a plaything, a companion, or even someone to take out your anger on. I shall be it. If you don’t want me, I will still be there. I will always be there to smile and lift your spirits like you once did for me through your doll. 

I eagerly wait for word from you. 

Until we meet again soon, 

Lilia Vanrouge

None of these letters were comforting in the slightest. In fact, they only placed you further on edge. For a moment, you considered stopping it here after only two and getting rid of the rest. 

Grim by now had settled in your lap, and looked up at you with those watchful blue eyes. Had he been staring at you the entire time? 

“Let me guess, they’re not taking it well?” 

“No, not at all.” You answer with a grimace. If this was how they were like now, you didn’t even want to know how they acted when they found out your vessel stopped working over a week ago. 

“Huh, sucks for them.” The feline stretched out, his claws poking out for a moment before quickly retracting as he plopped back down on his back with his stomach up. Maybe it was his own attempts to fill the silence, or to let you know you weren’t alone, but he eventually groaned. “Hey, read me one. I wanna know what they say.” 

Unable to say no to your companion, you nodded slowly and smiled weakly, “Alright, alright, let’s see what we have here...” 

You plucked out a random letter with neat packaging. However, just because the exterior was pretty, didn’t mean the interior message would be. You learned that already from the last two letters you had read. 

This envelope looked somewhat similar to the last one, square-shaped and tied closed with string. However, instead of the knot of ribbons on it, it held a simpler gift. The brown rope around it was tied in a neat bow, and between the string were lavender stems with a small branch of wild berries. 

Grim immediately indulged in the berries and the flowers, staining his little fangs and whiskers with the sweet sticky juice and purple petals. All the while exclaiming, “Oh, oh! I remember this letter. Some bird came to drop it and it flew away just before I could catch it...” 

A short laugh escaped your lips as you hear him. “So that’s why you were grumbling this morning.” 

Not wanting to be reminded again, he swat his paw at your nose as the feline hissed, “Shh! Just read already!” 

Dear player, 

I truly am deeply remorseful and I offer my sincerest apologies. 

I was to be a knight, that has been something I have strived for ever since I was a child. A knight not just to serve Malleus but to protect others, and eventually I discovered my purpose was to serve you as well. But... all I did was stand idly by and watch the torment. Shortly after meeting your vessel, I had promised to shield you from all danger. I broke that promise. 

I cannot imagine how frightened you must have been. Had just one person stop and thought things through, they may have realized the horrible mistake that was being made. Had I acted as soon as I felt the tug on my heart when I saw you weakened and on the dirt, I may have saved you from anymore pain. 

Those eyes, your eyes, I see them in my sleep. You were scared, and through your gaze you were pleading for help, were you not? I see it every time I close my eyes. You witnessed it yourself, the very moment when I had failed you. You were right there, so close I could have extended a helping hand. But my grief rendered me sightless, all I could think of in that moment is how my heart ached and how I longed to see you again. Even if it was through your vessel. The rumors didn’t quite make any sense to me, as I wondered how could anyone possibly be so cruel as to tear you away from us? 

Father had said that it would all be over soon. That capturing the imposter and bringing them to their knees, would make everything better. But when I saw you on the ground before we learned of your identity, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was alright. Would the player have wanted this? Would they have scorned upon witnessing the scene? Would this undoubtedly end the throbbing pain I felt in my heart? The pain was becoming unbearable, and I was not the only one to feel it. The news made little sense to me. Sebek insisted that it was true, and Father seemed to believe so as well. However, that is no excuse for how I went along as if it were okay. 

You were innocent and helpless, you, the player, not only witnessed the scene but were the victim. I’m so sorry, I should have done something... If it were the only way to gain your forgiveness, I would spend every moment of my waking hours writing letters of apology. To do so I would keep myself awake for as long as humanely possible. If asked, I would use every moment to pen these letters, each different from the last. Although after several attempts in redoing this single letter, I realize that it would be a pointless endeavor. 

After reflecting, the only way to make up for what I have do is be patient. 

Be patient and await for word from you. I cannot force you, I cannot pressure you, I can only pause and prepare myself to do whatever I must in order to earn back your grace. 

Please, do not keep me waiting too long. I know I have no right to ask you this. I’m willing to wait years if needed, but part of me has this fear that I will never regain a spot near your heart until I’m frail and feeble with age. Rest assured, even in old age, I would be willing to be your knight. Even if my bones ached, I would raise my sword and shield. If I couldn’t use my weakened legs, I would call upon a horse to be my steed. And if I were to become magicless, I would use the remainder of my physical strength to serve you. 

If I may be honest with you? I have no idea what to do. Yes, I said I would wait, but what else can I do? What can I do to eventually secure a place beside you, if it were possible? In times of trouble I normally turn to Lilia and Malleus for advice, however, I am a bit unsettled by their approach to this delicate matter. Truthfully, I am anxious, but while they share the sentiment, they are oddly confident that things will turn out alright in the end. I am unsure how they can muster the self-assurance to quell their fears. Maybe they know something that I do not, and have decided not to share this secret for now... 

Nevertheless, for now I’ll eagerly anticipate the day we can reunite just as I have dreamed. I greatly look forward to the second where not only I can see you smile once again and your eyes might finally look at me with content, but also the moment where all those I know might get the opportunity to be in your peaceful grace. 

I’ve dragged this letter on for too long. If you were to take something away from this letter, let it be this: I will carry out your wishes. No matter what you may think of me, whether it be a positive or negative image in your mind, I will continue forward in your name. Even if you think me unfit for the title of knight, then consider me a humble servant instead. Nothing will shake my commitment, and I will do whatever it is you ask. 

This is a pledge that will not be broken. 

Cordially, 

Silver

This letter felt a bit lighter than the others. Still, it was slightly intense in its own way, but it was nowhere near as extreme as the previous two were. And, maybe you had a better opinion on Silver, not because he was gentle with his words but because he was one of the very few who hadn’t threatened you, directly harmed you, or treated you cruelly. 

But! He didn’t get a free pass just because of that. Yes, he may not have directly caused any harm, but he didn’t exactly help you either. 

Grim had taken the letter from you, and inspected the paper in his paws. He held it above his head, scrunching up his nose a bit as he looked it over. “I dunno... he’s okay.” 

At that, you roll your eyes a bit as a smirk crept up from the corner of your mouth. “You’re not just saying that because his letter came with a snack?” 

“No! You think me easy to bribe? I think not! It would take a whole bucket full of berries just to get me to even discuss it. Then, I’d turn them down and take the berries anyways!” The feline proclaimed his brilliant plan should that situation ever arise. Maybe the gifts you allowed him to take were starting to get to his head. “But... he could be worse. Silver, as dumb as he was like everyone else, he did hear me out after they separated us.” 

Silver did that? If that were true, it’s possible that he wasn’t as bad as the others who had wronged you.

“That’s... good to know.” You murmur as you pluck up another random envelope from the pile. 

The last envelope you pick up before you planned to take a break was surprisingly plain. It was just that. A plain white envelope, sealed by green wax with what looked like a family crest that depicted a creature with fangs and scales. One of the corners was crinkled, as if it was gripped too tightly there. 

As soon as you slid out the folded letter, you were bombarded by the ink. Whoever had wrote this, seemed like they applied too much force. This caused certain parts of some letters to be too round and heavy with ink that made those bits feel damp and stain your fingers the slightest bit. Like whoever wrote this, placed just as much pressure with their hands on the pen gliding across the page, as much pressure as they felt weighing on their mind. 

Great Player, 

As I pen this, I am on my hands and knees.

I have prepared a multitude of letters which I will send daily, so that now and in the future you will continue to hear my apology and know I truly mean it. One admission of regret is not enough. An apology is only an acknowledgment of an offense, it does not absolve one of their wrongdoings. I know this! So, I, Sebek Zigvolt, will atone by any means necessary! 

To you, the player who I wronged and deserves nothing but happiness and perfection, I give my deepest sincerest profuse apology. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m SORRY. Right now when I look at my hands that I use to write, I’m reminded of the vicious way I grabbed you like some... heathen! These hands sullied your flawless self, and for that alone I will never forgive myself!

Had it not been for the wise words of Master Lilia and the bothersome yet logical reasoning from Silver, I would have been at your door everyday, every hour, begging for a second chance. In the midst of brainstorming, I presented my idea of crawling on hands and knees, from Diasomnia to the Ramshackle Dorm, to deliver the letter myself. Then, I would display whatever cuts or bruises formed on my palms and knees which I would receive from the rocky roads or thorns, that way you may see my devotion was true and no lengths are too great when it comes to you! No matter the pain or burden! The idea seems to appeal to Lord Malleus, but I was told that it comes off as too extreme...

But! I beg to differ!! I only consider it so that you may understand what I feel, so that you might comprehend the things I would do for you, and receive me back in your good graces! Additionally, delivering the letter in this manner would cause me as much or more physical pain than I caused you! It is a shame that things have come to this. I had wished so much for our first proper meeting to be one of joy where you might accept me as your knight! In spite of that, I will not falter in shame! If I were to deliver the following letters in that method I had detailed earlier, I would wear the scars proudly! It would be physical proof of my faithfulness towards you! 

I am sorry, and I will continue to say it. Perhaps, this may be presumptuous of me, but if you consider it, Diasomnia did not torment you nearly as long as any other insolent dorm had! And! We retainers accompanied Lord Malleus every day to check on the wellbeing of your vessel, and watch over it while investigating various possible approaches on how to revive Yuu. We diligently did this until the moment we encountered your true self! 

I swear to you, no one shall harm you from this moment forth! 

From now on, I’ll march forward and see to it that you are never hurt ever again! This is something I know that my fellow dormmates will tirelessly work toward as well. 

Have you realized that we have been guarding you and the serenity of your dorm in the past days? Have you not thought it strange that none have come to needlessly pester you? Yes, that is all thanks to the efforts of those in Diasomnia! Even when you do not realize it, we are insuring your welfare and the tranquility you require to recover! Of course, as much as I desperately want to inform you of the details, I will not. It is best you don’t know. 

Now, I must be honest with you. Originally, I had planned this letter to be much longer and have contents that would have been much different than what you are currently reading. I aimed to be honest in my feelings! But before I could sign off on the original draft, I realized that the others may be in the right. It is possible that our devotion, my devotion, may come off as disquieting if I were completely sincere. I’ve had to restrain myself on many occasions, reminding myself to at least appear collected and controlled. That is not as easy as it sounds! 

How could it be, when the one I must suppress my emotions and actions for, is you? That’s as if asking to repress part of my very soul and heart! I absolutely detest hiding it!! But when I remember this is for you and your own comfort, it becomes bearable. I can only hope that soon, very soon, I might be able to unveil my true sentiments towards you! As intense and extreme as they may be! 

It seems that I’m nearing the word limit that they imposed. Once again, I apologize. I’ll have to contemplate new ways to write ‘sorry.’ I wish I could write a million more words for you! But even a million words wouldn’t be anywhere near a satisfactory amount for me to detail how much I revere you! And it would take more than another million words for me to write a full apology, but even then I wouldn’t be satisfied! No single letter is adequate enough, so be prepared to receive the rest I have written! 

I will make sure they are delivered posthaste! 

Faithfully, 

Sebek Zigvolt 

Great... you’re back to being unnerved again. 

There was something about them all being so weirdly obsessed, but in vary different ways. Malleus and Lilia puzzled you, they had you feeling the most uneasy by far. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they were both not human, they were arcane beings with enigmatic personalities and objectives that were incomprehensible to you. 

Out of the four, Silver was the only one that was fully human like yourself, but even he was a bit of a mystery as he was raised by the fae. It was hard to be wary of him, which was probably because your distrust and fear of him wasn’t as intense as it was towards the others due to his good nature and lack of actions he took during the whole disaster. 

As for Sebek, well, he was unnerving in his own right but it was nowhere near on the level that Malleus and Lilia were on. At the very least he wasn’t a complete mystery to you. It was easy to figure out his intentions, because he either said them or wore them on his sleeve. 

Your mind was spinning as you looked over the four letters, filled with lines upon lines and more lines of pages. In that moment your breath quickened as you noticed the cloudy sky outside. For a brief second, you feared you would see that familiar flash of green lightning, taking you back to that dark day when you nearly died. It’s like you could feel Sebek’s hands tightly gripping the back of your skull that forced you against the earth, you saw Silver’s sorrowful gaze that spoke a thousand words you didn’t yet understand, you heard Lilia’s words hinting to a doomed fate of becoming some lifeless doll, and god, you couldn’t forget him even if you wanted to. Malleus. He was the worst of all. You felt his nails and fingers constricting around your neck and squeezing out all the air, you saw his haunting green eyes with those slit pupils as he glowered at you with such anger and hate, and you heard what you had thought would be the last words you ever heard come from his lips––

“Hey!” 

You were torn out of those dark thoughts by the feline in your lap. A concerned frown tugged at Grim’s lips, but once he saw he had your attention, he mustered a slight grin as he held up what looked like an armful of snacks. At least, as much as he could carry in his small paws. From his grin, you could see his little fangs still covered in the remnants of the berries and flower petals.

“Look, I found your favorite! This is getting boring, so let’s just take a break!”

[mothwingwritings]

Your Yujiro x reader has been on my mind recently, and an interesting idea came into my head - what would happen if the reader somehow stumbled upon Yuichiro? What would he think of the whole situation, particularly because he is of a *very* different temperament than his son? Would he develop some sort of feelings for (reader)? I'm pretty sure Yujiro would be pissed to see his father meddling in things 😭

You're one of my fav writers on here!! Keep it up ❤︎ and make sure to take care of yourself ☺️

… I can’t believe I didn’t think of writing anything for Yuichiro before this ask lol. How could I write so much about the Hanma family’s favorite girl (you) and never mention Yuichiro???  Shame on me tbh, let’s change that now!

(And thank you for your kind words!!! You are very sweet! <3)

WARNINGS: Mentions of sex, noncon, past abuse, and stepcest.

If by some miracle act Yuichiro was able to obtain a corporeal form and once more walk amongst the living, he would be very intrigued by how far his lineage had come and what the Hanma’s were able to accomplish. Being the start of it all, he had a vague idea of how things most likely have progressed. There is no doubt that his unruly son has grown massively strong, and he’s sure that strength has caused countless problems for people near and far.

He was aware that Yujiro had children at this point, taking quite an interest himself in Baki and Jack’s development. Children weren’t always guaranteed to take after their parents, so it was always a delight when at least one of your offspring was able to carry on the family line with the strength and power you and your ancestors worked so tirelessly to cultivate. When Yuichiro found out that of all the children Yujiro had fathered, not just one, but two showed such immense potential? He was as pleased as he was proud, even more so to discover Baki and Jack lacked the level of belligerent arrogance that made their father an unbearably volatile presence to be around.

While he was taking note of his family line he happened upon a surprising outlier- you. He was at first puzzled by the fact that the Ogre, with all his rampant testosterone, was even able to produce a daughter. When he dug a little deeper and realized you were adopted into the family, while that in and of itself made sense, it left him with even more questions. Why would someone like Yujiro go out of his way to adopt someone else’s child, let alone a female, when he barely cared about the children he himself had brought into this world? Based on the limited knowledge he had of you, you didn’t have any kind of superior strength or secret, hidden abilities that may have spurred his son to take you under his wing. So how exactly did you become awarded with the name of Hanma?

The mystery became too intriguing to ignore, thus he sought you out.

The moment he saw you, he instantly began to understand your appeal. He kept his distance at first, not wanting to overwhelm you with his presence as he made his initial observations. From what he could gather, you were a thoughtful girl, kind and affable to your friends and strangers alike. He noted that you seemed a little jumpy, on edge in scenarios you should feel more at ease, and he worried that maybe he wasn’t concealing himself enough and you were catching on to his surveillance. You may not have Hanma blood in your veins, but you’ve been around them enough to recognize the specific aura they exude. He would need to be more careful, maybe conducting his research on you was best done through other means.

Hence, he decided to look into your relationships with his son and grandsons, hoping to get a better picture of who you were as a person and unravel the secret of how you became intertwined in their lives.

However, what he ended up finding out was not anything he ever expected.

As soon as he learned the horrific truth of how his family had handled you, the revolting nature in which not just his son, but his grandchildren, showed their ‘affection’ for you, he was at a loss for words. Yuichiro was beyond disgusted by their actions, particularly due to the fact that their aggressions were against an innocent woman who had no means of defending herself against the brutes that were incessantly at her heels.

Your jittery nature made complete sense now. You weren’t constantly on edge because you were a naturally excitable person- you were on edge as a defense mechanism. You had to be cautious around everyone for your own self-preservation, frightened that you may unwittingly be subjugating yourself and the people around you to extreme danger by being in a public space. The man who was supposed to be your father figure had assaulted you, hurting and scarring you in irreparable ways. The brothers that you loved and looked to for protection ended up having the same perversions as the man who had created them, betraying your trust in their attempts to force themselves upon you.

Disgusted wasn’t a strong enough word for what he had felt upon learning these revelations. His disappointment in his kin was immeasurable.

When he finally introduces himself to you, it’s apprehension that greets him in return. He can see the fear reflected in your eyes as you were faced with the instant realization of his strength the absolute power he held over not just you, but anyone who may step to him. Yuichiro was a complete stranger to you, in fact you probably hadn’t even seen a picture of him to make any sort of connection. But he could tell that within moments of making your acquaintance, you understood who he was. He was a Hanma, and therefore, he was a threat.

Seeing you cower before him, your whole body vibrating in a state of alarm, eyes darting around the vicinity as you tried to map an escape route should this meeting go south… it broke his heart. It wasn’t that he was immune to your charms, Yuichiro could definitely see the appeal of wanting to be close to you in an intimate manner, but to take you by force? To treat you so horribly, handle you so violently? It took all his power not to make his rage over the injustices you had faced show on his features, lest he frighten you further.

It took a while for you to warm up to him, but the relationship that blossomed was well worth the effort. You were a lovely person all around, beautiful in every sense of the word. The more he got to know you, the more he saw your true personality shine through, and the longer he spent with you, the more his affection for you grew.

Yuichiro had made his decision. You would be safe with him-completely and undeniably cared for under his watchful eye. He would be the father Yujiro never could be, the protector your brothers failed to be. He would become your family, a true family, and insure that you will never have to spend another day living in fear ever again.

In short, Yuichiro’s arrival would probably be the ONLY thing that would ultimately protect you from Yujiro and the rest of the Hanma family. This is great for you because he’s a man of his word, the moment you come under his care Yujiro’s entire existence is like a distant nightmare, and that is something you are exceedingly grateful for. However, you feel the absence of Jack and Baki much more profoundly, as you considered them to be your true family and still love them very deeply. Even though you know ultimately this arrangement is for the best, and you feel much safer and happier in Yuichiro’s care than you have ever felt with anyone else in your life, you still find yourself missing Jack and Baki greatly. Even with their betrayal shattering the last of your innocence, causing you deep and lasting scars, life without them still hurt, and you don’t think you’ll ever heal enough to ignore the pain.

… All this being said, it wouldn’t be on brand for me to answer this without fucking it up a little bit, right?

After some time living with Yuichiro, growing dependent on him for basic care and protection, his fondness for you begins to manifest in ways that are… shocking, even to Yuichiro himself. 

Maybe it was the long absence of a lover that began to steer his desires, or perhaps it was the sweet and selfless nature in which you offered your love to him? Who knew it would warm his heart so much to see you standing in the kitchen, sweet little apron tied around your waist as you hummed a little tune, hard at work preparing a new recipe you had picked out specifically to please him? All the little things you did without a second thought made is body and soul ache for you.

You were always cute, but when exactly did you become so irresistible to him?

It caught him off guard to feel a flutter in his stomach when he saw your smile or heard your laugh. At his age he figured he was far past feelings like this, especially with someone so much younger than himself, especially with you.

He didn’t expect the blush that dusted your cheeks when he entered the bath you were currently occupying to excite him as much as it did. He took great pride in the control he had over his body, keeping his emotions and desire in check was one of his strong suits. But seeing you there, bare and bashful, trying desperately to cover yourself while your eyes refused to linger on any part of his exposed body for too long… you were definitely testing his limits here, sweetheart.

Did you know how effortlessly beautiful you were? Did you realize just how tantalizing even the most innocent of your actions were? Would it upset you if he told you how pretty he found your body, as his eyes drank in every inch of skin you were working so hard to hide? Would it scare you if he helped you to understand just how much sway you had over not just his heart, but all of his wants and desires?

He had chided and scorned his family for their mistreatment of you, the sick, twisted feelings they pummeled you with not only threatened your existence, but were also a stain on the illustrious Hanma name. Yuichiro wanted nothing more than your happiness and your security, both were things he took great honor in providing to you, and he found his own joy in knowing you felt contentment with him after so much suffering. But he was starting to get an itch that was growing harder and harder to scratch. An itch he felt his kin was all too familiar with.

Maybe he’s not so different from his son and grandsons after all?

[kissoulie]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒

𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧

— NSFW, MDNI. bowling with p1harmony!

a/n: some of u may not know but hot & mysterious user kissoulie has a bowling hyperfixation!! 😭 i went bowling last night for 3hrs and i'm prob going to go again tonight 🤭 this reminded me that seob posted a pic of piwon bowling while they were on tour which is why my brain made this! this is def not my best work but i work like all week so i wanted to write a lil smth silly, short, & fun before i post my first series masterlist tmrw 💓

cws: fem bodied reader but generally gender neutral (use of "pretty"), not entirely explicit smut?? it's just not super detailed the bowling is the main focus my bad 😭, 3some (soulseob), skim proofread for readability only pls excuse all spelling/grammar errors i wrote half of this in a movie theater! that's all i believe, lmk if i missed anything ‹3

— keeho.

he definitely has an average over 125 you cannot convince me otherwise. he's a straight bowler, but knows how to hook a ball. i also think he has his own bowling ball because he's extra like that. best bowler in piwon!!! i think he kinda bowls like an old man, and still gets extremely hyped for every strike. he will def blow your back out after a bowling date though ❤️ his baby did so well!!! you even almost beat him, so he thinks you deserve a reward, and he knows for you there's no better reward than his fingers inside you while he fucks your pretty head empty.

— taeyang.

he's the average bowler for sure. i'm not entirely convinced he gets super competitive over it, i think he's just there to have fun!! definitely uses an 8, has no particular technique he just walks forward and sends it lol. assuming you're bowling at a place with couches, he for sure has you in his lap while his members go. he orders you both french fries but soul eats them all while you're distracted eye fucking each other 😭😭 he'll start feeling you up, one hand inching higher and higher up your thigh while the other presses against your middle to hold you in place. may or may not invite you to a 'bathroom' break by tapping your thigh and announcing, "i'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick" with some searing eye contact while he walks away, which will leave your stomach in knots thinking about how he's going to rearrange your insides ‹3

— jiung.

i think he's super competitive about this actually 😭 he probably practices bowling at least once a week if they go often, it's something he has a lot of fun getting better at! he hooks as many of his shots as he can, definitely a spare sniper who leaves only a few frames open per game. maybe i'm just a jiung professional bowler truther. he uses his newfound finger dexterity on you though, curling his fingers inside you perfectly while thumbing at your clit. he'll have you seeing stars in no time.

— intak.

straight bowler, averages 100, bowls with a 9. he's pretty straightforward when bowling, he's there to have a good time & look good doing it. i am also of a mind that he plays pool, specifically with you. loser gets the best head of their life (his idea). naturally, he's the one who wins and gets to have you choking around his cock in the back seat while the rest of his members wonder where you both have gone.

— soulseob.

The competitive ever. please they both want to impress you!!! seob is bowling for his life!!!! soul is just having fun!!!! (he got a gutter ball and screeched like a dinosaur.) your little giggles spur them on, "winner gets a kiss" 😭 their sibling rivalry has been unlocked, but their rivalry in bed is worse!! seob did throw 119 in the end, beating soul by 3 pins, and he wastes no time in taking you back to the dorms to get his prize. he shoves you down onto his bed while soul trails behind, "watch us, sho." jongseob holds your hands to pin them to the bed, slipping into you with a wet squelch. his body grinds into yours with desperation you didn't know he had. he fucks you nice and rough. "think he deserves a consolation prize, baby?" you nod dumbly, your eyes droopy and dilated. "poor princess." he muses, beckoning soul closer, letting him stretch you out impossibly wider, your mouth dropping open in a broken moan. ‹3

taglist: @tkooooop ♡

[jenoslutie]

i saw your requests were open and im really craving jeno filth rn. can i request a blurb of mean/angry jeno wanting to try anal spur of the moment while fucking but theres poor prep. can there be focus on degrading, humiliation, & dacryphilia? i saw on your requests that you write some hard kinks so hopefully this works (if not, ignore me). thank you!

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

genre: smut

wc: 1501

warnings: degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, anal (with little to no prep), mentions of haechan, angry jeno.

a/n: thank u anon!! im so sorry im replying so late i've been suffering with severe lack of motivation but thank u to @jenomov for motivating me to write this luv u bb!!

Ever since you and Jeno got home earlier, hes been upset and he won't tell you why. All you remember was being at a little get together with him and his friends and midway during the night he took you by the hand and told you that you guys would be leaving. The whole car ride was silent and you honestly don't have a clue what could be wrong with him. You'd assume one of his friends may have said something that pissed him off but if that did happen he would've mentioned it to you. All your attempts of trying to ask him have been pushed away with him either ignoring you or simply telling you to not worry about it.

"Jeno?" You walked into your shared bedroom after washing up where he was at his desk playing video games, already having changed into a pair of grey shorts and a white t-shirt. "Can you talk to me? what's wrong?" and much like the other times, he ignored you once again. Being fed up with his silent treatment, you went up to where he sat at his desk and took his headphones off his head, placing them on his desk and turning the chair around so he'd finally look at you for the first time since you'd gotten home today.

"Jeno, talk to me please, what's wrong? I don't know what I did and it's making me feel like shit knowing that I upset you and I don't even know what I did" Jeno groans, not amused that you reminded him of it again. "You know what, fine I'll fill you in." He sat you down on the floor in front of him and his voice was awfully calm which was a stark contrast to his demeanour from less than a minute ago. He tucks your hair behind your ear and ran his hands through your hair before grabbing a fistful and pulling it roughly, making you wince.

"I was looking for you the whole time today but where did I end up finding you? Sitting outside with Haechan. You know how he feels about you yet you still entertained it like some attention whore." He sneered as he says this and tugs on your hair harder.

Now you remember.

Jeno seemed to be occupied with his friends so you and Haechan decided to go and get some drinks from the kitchen before sitting outside and people watching. There was barely any dialogue exchanged other than some random comments the both of you made when you saw someone doing something funny.

So you tell Jeno that.

"You know, if you really want to slut yourself out to Haechan while your boyfriend is busy with his friends then go ahead. But for now, come on, strip" Jeno was seeing red at this point. He was already upset that you ditched him and when he finally did find you, he found you hidden away with his friend who's had feelings for you since time. What added on to his anger was you were wearing this skin tight black romper with no bra underneath so everyone could clearly see every curve of your body and your very hard nipples.

He watched you as you got rid of that stupid romper that made you look even sexier than you already were. "come on, take off those panties too, sluts like you don't need those. I'm surprised you even wore any in the first place." you complied with a slight frown, the situation was so arousing to you right now but you couldn't show him just how much it was affecting you. Jeno hummed as your naked body stood before him, his fingers finding their way to your nipples to toy with them before bringing his mouth to one and flicking his tongue over it making you moan softly. However that didn't last long until Jeno got off his chair and sat you on it instead. You brought your hand down to your sopping wet cunt and realized your wetness was dripping down onto his chair. You knew Jeno wouldn't be happy about it considering his mood right now so you chose not to even mention anything about it until he'd notice himself. Which clearly didn't last long because when Jeno looked down to where your hand was, he saw the mess that was made on his new gaming chair.

"What the fuck is this hmm?" Jeno raised his eyebrows at you making you close your legs and look down in shame. "You know, I was thinking of letting you off easy but I don't think you deserve it today. Get on your knees and clean up your mess." You whimpered at his degradation. As harsh as his words may get, you know he doesn't mean it at the end of the day. So you obeyed his command and fell to your knees and lapped up your arousal from his chair, leaving an arguably bigger mess but you know Jeno never really minded in the first place.

"Good girl. Get on the bed baby" You followed all his commands with no hesitation. Making your way over to the bed with him trailing behind you. He sat you on the bed before getting rid of his shorts and shirt. Immediately, you knew what that meant so you got right to work, licking at his tip before taking his length in your mouth. Sucking him off like you know he likes. Making a mix of his groans and the sound of you gagging from his length hitting the back of your throat fill the room.

He pulled you off him before he was able to reach the edge. "Get on your hands and knees." And you obeyed, arching your back the way he likes it. What you didnt expect was to feel his cock circling your rim. it's not your first time doing this with him but there was barely any prep or foreplay to prepare you for this. "Jeno? I dont think I'm prepped enough for anal right now..." you trailed off to which he slapped your ass in response. "You can take it I know you can, It'll feel good I promise" Dropping down a glob of spit to 'lubricate' your hole before he slid in just his tip around your hole, hips stuttering from the feeling of your hole squeezing him in. The pain was too much making your eyes well up "Jeno fuck..it hurts so much" And as if to make it better, he dropped another glob of spit on your hole to make the stretch more bearable (it didnt help much). When he finally bottomed out in your ass he let out a loud groan which you could almost feel from the way his cock twitched inside you. Your cheeks were stained with tears as you fought the urge to beg him to at least use some lube but the thought quickly went to the back of your head when he started pounding into your ass while rubbing at your clit.

"Jeno fuck" you sniffled and you didnt expect Jeno to fucking whimper at your tone. "Fuck baby are you crying?" He chuckled softly, flipping you onto your back to observe your messy tear stained face.

"You're so fucking pretty when you cry baby it makes me wanna ruin you more often. You like when I fuck you hard like this?" You nod and soon the pain is mixed with pleasure when he rubs at your clit harder and your arousal trails down to where his cock is pounding into you.

"Gonna cum Jeno feels so good" Jeno knew you were close from the way you tightened up around him and your legs shook around his waist. "Cum baby. show me that pretty teary face when you cum." And you did. Your orgasm hit you so hard that you sob even harder, your face a mix of tears and drool that made Jeno's high to follow right behind yours. He buried his cock all the way inside you and you feel the hot white ropes of cum filling you up.

Jeno slowly pulled out and collapsed next to you, wiping the tears off your face. "You're so good to me baby sorry if I was too rough today." You shook your head with a smile, not trusting your voice to do you any justice in the moment. Jeno returned the smile and gave you a soft kiss to your forehead.

"And just so you know, I'm not mad about the Haechan thing anymore. It was a stupid thing to get mad about I'm sorry" You smiled at the man before you. Jeno less than 10 minutes ago was nothing compared to the Jeno you were seeing right now.

"It's okay, I love you and only you okay?" He hummed with a smile, giving you another kiss to your forehead before he went off to get something to clean you up with.

[ddarker-dreams]

you can often spot yan albedo scribbling notes on a clipboard at random increments. the only common denominator to spur this on is you doing something, but the action itself doesn't seem to matter. whether you're stretching, dozing off, staring out the window to watch dragonspine's wintry landscape, threatening to pelt him with a snowball... he'll stop what he's doing so that he can hurriedly write who-knows-what down. you'd just assume he's performing some creepy naturalistic observation with you as the unwitting subject.

one day, he leaves in a hurry, as apparently klee may have blown up an important foreign emissary's fortunately empty carriage. this grants you the unique opportunity to do some snooping. normally, he'd lock up the mystery clipboard tight. he neglected to do so in his rush to reassure important individuals that his little sister is not an anarchist. you find the clipboard without much hassle. triumphant, you flip through your spoils. each page is dated and the contents within are written in impeccable cursive.

This morning, [First] appears especially endearing.

The sight of [First] in pajamas caused me to feel unusually warm. Biological abnormalities did not desist when I was left alone.

My basic functions struggle to maintain efficiency when [First] is in the same room, will need to investigate this phenomenon further.

[First] threatened me with physical violence once more and I found the admission unusually cute. May need to self-conduct a sadomasochism test for better understanding...

Today, [First] said my name twice, which is higher than last month's previous mean—

on and on it goes.

... you put the clipboard back where you found it, swearing to never think of this again.

[pyrrhocorax]

Re: Sweden, Norway, and Denmark's Japanese dialects in Hetalia (and potential implications to their characterization) (with briefer notes about Fin and Ice)

Thanks to @nordickies for being the spark that lit the fire to write this post. This information also personally has informed some of my personal takes on the Nordic 5 for over a decade now, so I hope it is useful. A lot of this was more common knowledge back in the livejournal days of the fandom.

Disclaimer: my Japanese is limited and by no means do I claim to fully understand all of the cultural complexities surrounding this topic. I will try, where I can, to back up my claims with at least somewhat credible sources especially since I am someone who is not Japanese in origin either ethnically or culturally, however I DO know more than the average person would because I have lived in Japan, was exposed from my practical birth to the culture and language waaay more than is typical due to me living overseas, and I have studied the language on an elementary level in several academic settings. I am by no means an expert (I am a wildlife biologist by trade), but all of this is done in good faith, and if you do know more than me (especially since I am limited in my ability to get access to academic texts right now — nor am I going far out of my way to find those, as this is a meta post about Hetalia of all things and I am not going to do a whole giant thesis about this for one post), feel free to correct me and/or send me further resources, as I want to convey as accurate of information I can as possible. Part of my motivation for making this post was to spur conversation and hopefully have others who know more than me contribute to the ongoing conversation, to which, I encourage those who read this post to check the notes for any further updates. Another note that I also do not originate from a Nordic country, so there may also be additional layers people from those countries may be able to add. Thanks! Let's begin.

*********************************************************** Like several characters in Hetalia, the Viking Trio speak in unique Japanese dialects that further make them distinct and characterize them in Japanese. Sweden speaks in a Touhoku dialect, Norway in the Tsugaru dialect (which is a specific type of Touhoku dialect), and Denmark speaks in Ibaraki dialect. The Ibaraki dialect is sometimes seen as belonging to the Touhoku dialect group or the Kantou dialect group, and the classification is debated. Generally, Touhoku accents are characterized by slow speech, the slurring of words together, and the muttering of words — as well as being associated with rural country folk (Kumagi 2011, direct PDF download). This dialect is often translated into English as a redneck/hick accent and drawling speech — and as those who speak it are often characterized or stereotyped as unintelligent folks from out in the sticks. Kumagi cites Inoue (1977) as saying that Touhoku dialects are "degraded at the bottom in the Japanese language" scoring low on "intelligence and emotion-related associations." One American English rough equivalent (not localized, but in terms of reputation in U.S. culture) by my best estimations would likely be Appalachian dialects, which are also stereotypically characterized as being a hillbilly, unintelligent, and rural accent also featuring drawled speech and often truncated speech (source). Like many Touhoku dialect speakers in Japan, Appalachian dialect speakers often hide, mask, or reduce their accent, especially if they relocate someplace outside Appalachia, in order to seem more credible to others, as it is generally seen as an “inferior” dialect of American English in the wider culture (personal/family lived experience, but also a good radio piece on it here). The other way Touhoku dialects are translated in media are as Upper Midwest or Northern Plains dialects of American English (not the most credible source, but a lot that is on here that I can confirm to be correct). This characterization is likely a more accurate candidate for the Nordics (and may be why Hima chose this dialect group for them), as many immigrants from Nordic countries settled in the Upper Midwest/Northern Plains (source, personal experience living in this region for a lot of my life). Touhoku dialects are also a more northern dialect group, which geographically coincides with the Nordics being, well, northerners!

(Map of Touhoku dialects regionally) I have not been able to find any information re: if Sweden speaks any particular type of Touhoku dialect (or if it is more broad), but I will talk a bit about how his speech was transliterated in early scanlations before moving on to the other two. Because of how slurred/more truncated/less intelligible Touhoku accents generally are (and remember, Den/Nor/Ice did not make their appearance until well after Swe/Fin did!), likely early translators decided to chop off letters/make Sweden's speech seem less intelligible in order to convey that to readers. Unlike Norway and Denmark, Sweden also often speaks in shorter sentences/phrases in Japanese, and given that Finland canonically says "it's just hard to communicate with him" (see Running Away with Mr. Sve) that is also likely why early Hetalia scanlators before official translations of the comics were available (note: god this is making me feel old as hell) made the decision to give him the speech patterns that they did, and that ended up spreading through the fandom. When the other Nordics with their regional dialects dropped, given how Sweden’s vocal trait got translated into English and then fandom ran with it to varying degrees of intelligibility, I think the decision was made to not translate Norway the same way to cause less trouble in fanworks, while the Ibaraki dialect did influence how Denmark was translated (more on that below.

Norway speaks in a very particular Touhoku-family dialect within the series that is generally not well-reflected outside of the source material at all. The Tsugaru dialect is spoken in the northwest part of the country, specifically in the western part of Aomori Prefecture — Tsugaru dialect is a particularly unusual dialect, even by Japanese dialect standards, by being one of the most difficult dialects in Japan to understand (source). Even within Japan itself, people speaking this dialect often have to be subtitled on television for other Japanese audiences to understand, and there have been occasions where the dialect has been displayed on television to marvel at how strange and unintelligible it sounds to other Japanese speakers. Sometimes speakers of this dialect have been characterized (or mischaracterized for comedic effect) as French in Japanese because the odd sound and unintelligability of the dialect (source). Kumagi (2011) also states that "[...] within the Tohoku [alternate transliteration of Touhoku] dialects, Aomori [prefecture in which Tsugaru is spoken] dialect is at the bottom [of the hierarchy]," meaning that even among the already disrespected Touhoku dialects, Tsugaru belongs to the worst of the bunch in terms of reputability and respectability in Japanese perceptions. The Tsugaru dialect is a source of fascination, comedy, and disrepute/low standing all at the same time. While we don’t know why Hima selected Norway to have this dialect, I have a few proposals. First, this gives him a similar flavor to the other members of the Viking Trio while keeping him distinct — while Ibaraki is a more southern dialect geographically (for the region), Tsugaru is spoken both more north and more west than it. So if you map their dialects out on a map, their geographical location to each other also somewhat resembles their actual locations as nations to each other in the Nordics! Which is neat!

Second, Hima characterizes Norway has being slightly otherworldly and unusual largely due to his fairy-friends and such. But I also think that he likely chose Tsugaru for him not only because that makes him seem like he’s out of this world, but also because Japan is kind of fascinated by that dialect in particular despite not holding it in high regards by it too — sure, it is a hick accent, but it is an interesting hick accent. I think the fact that Japanese speakers sometimes liken the dialect to French is interesting specifically because of how Japanese people often view the French — French culture something that is often romanticized and idealized, and given how Tsugaru dialect can sound French-ish to Japanese speakers, that may be why Norway is kind of designed as the “pretty boy” of the trio by the fandom? In the same way that “Paris Syndrome” is a thing, where Japanese who go to France are often shocked at how their idealized version of France does not live up to the realities of the country (trust me it's real there is a wikipedia page lol), I think you can argue that in-universe Norway can be seen in a lot of different ways depending on the preconceived notions of how you view the dialect. If you view it as French-like and think it sounds interesting, you may find it alluring/beautiful. If you think it is crass, you'll look at it with disdain and disgust. If you think it just sounds silly and stupid, it is. If you think it is nostalgic (as Kumagi states that this is the only positive association this dialect has) and has a close association with nature/pastoral life because of that, it is. I think Norway in canon is characterized on all four of those axioms at the same time (if you really wanna pull canon receipts I will at another time) which makes this make a lot of sense to me as to why that dialect was chosen for him. Third, I think that given Norway was largely the worst off of the three kingdoms for most of history, it makes sense to give him the worst accent in terms of reputation/status out of all of them, too. Note: specifically, re: how Norway uses "brother" in Japanese is also interesting when referring to Denmark. What he is saying is "anko" (あんこ), which literally means "young man/eldest son" directly translated and is specifically only used to mean that in northern Japanese dialects. A good way to put it is it is like people in the U.S. use "bro" as a catch-all term for a similar-aged guy you are trying to get the attention of kind of informally, in the same way you can say "nii-san" to both mean "older brother" and also "guy who seems older than me I am addressing informally" I guess?? Funnily enough, which I didn't know until researching shit, it apparently also means bottom (homosexual) in prison slang??? Which may or may not be intentional I guess on Hima's part, and could also influence your characterization of Norway as a result. Finally we move on to Denmark. The Ibaraki dialect is characterized by number of things, but for our purposes I think that the two most important traits are the general lack of polite speech and the slightly faster rate of speech (unfortunately, my only written sources I can point to are wikipedia and TV tropes again, but I have heard this orally from someone a long time ago - I looked for more credible sources but couldn't find any easily). Because of it being debated as to whether or not is a true Touhoku dialect or if it is actually a Kantou (more southern/eastern) dialect, I think you can also argue that makes sense given Denmark is kind of the "gateway" into the heart of Europe geographically. People have generally translated this as him being excitable and more casual in the way he communicates to other people. I have been able to find less resources on this particular dialect and how it is perceived culturally, so I will sadly have to leave it at that, but from my understanding he is generally translated appropriately in the manga from what I have seen, with the -in' instead of -ing and ya instead of you to have it seem more relaxed/familiar/casual.

Final notes on Finland and Iceland: I cannot confirm this personally, but from what I can hear from Finland, it sounds like he speaks pretty standard Japanese to me, but take that with a grain of salt since I am not the expert here. Which, dialect-wise, places him as the odd person out (which fits with Finnish being the linguistic outgroup of the five) and also puts him as the relatable “stand in” for Japanese people learning about the Nordics — reminder he is the one who introduces them all in that one comic (see The Nordic 5+a) and even earlier comics (see Running Away with Mr. Sve), and we’re viewing the Nordics from largely his perspective). Since Finland in this series is largely characterized (and often deemed a poor stereotype by Finns) because of the Japanese perspective on Finland/Finns, it makes a lot of sense Hima used him kind of as a self-insert for Japanese readers/viewers to understand the Nordics from, as of the Nordic nations, Japanese folks are likely going to have the strongest familiarity/connection to Finland because of the Moomins. Please take the following information about Iceland with heaping grains of salt, but from a memory, I believe he also speaks the Tsugaru dialect, at least some of the time???? This makes sense he shares the Tsugaru dialect with Norway, as he’s Norway’s in-canon sibling, but I have a vague memory of a meta post I cannot 100% confirm or deny exists re: him only speaking the dialect/the dialect coming out more when he’s alone?? This following is speculation since I cannot confirm/deny that right now with my current abilities, but if it is true, would also be an interesting level to his character and make sense — it puts further distance between him and Norway if he purpsefully doesn’t speak the same way as his brother when his brother is present, and it also is reminiscent of my own experience living with people with discriminated accents who then mask their “less desirable” dialects in their teens/20s so they don’t get discriminated against as they move up in the world. Kumagi (2011) states that "Therefore, young female native speakers of Tohoku [alternate transliteration] dialects feel ashamed of their dialects and hesitate to speak them in big cities such as Tokyo. They are made to feel inferiority complex about their dialects, which are stigmatized as unfeminine". Since Iceland is very much characterized as a teen in canon, I think that this makes sense to do in the broader context of Hima’s choices. The specific reason as to why I state that I believe he speaks Tsugaru some of the time but not always is because there are some panels he speaks without it and some where he does seem to have an accent (HWS Chapter 112, relevant screencap below, this is the only time he speaks like this from what I can find in scanlations/translations, but it has to be a deliberate choice). Would love more info on this from someone who knows more about Japanese than I can do.

Again, please check the original post and/or notes for any future additions that I will add/edit accordingly (with notes as to where/when that happened) if any other relevant information surfaces, but I hope that was at least a little informative and interesting to read. I consulted a bunch of other resources too (read a bunch of papers I could find online), but a lot of those I read several months ago and no longer can find :x otherwise I would list them here.

Let me know if there are any typos/things are unclear, b/c holy shit this took a lot more effort and time for me to write up than I thought it was going to, and I am too tired to proofread it after spending several days on it. X_X

[lesbicosmos]

day 6 of @painlandweek !!

day 6 prompt: free day!!

summary:

after edwin's confession, charles has a lot to think about. he finds himself watching edwin even closer than usual, and realisations happen. or a series of moments post-s1 that gave charles rowland a bit of a crisis

notes:

title from not a lot, just forever by adrianne lenker

this fic was also a collaboration with the amazing @every-moment-a-different-sound !! they made these gorgeous gifs based on my fic <33

also on ao3!!

through your eyes i see a smile you bring to me

He’d been thinking. A lot. Charles Rowland didn’t do that. He was more of a ‘do first, think later’ kind of guy. He said what was on his mind, about most things at least. He made most decisions in a spur of the moment. He wouldn’t think twice before jumping in front of danger for someone he cared about – usually Edwin. And Edwin Payne was exactly the catalyst for Charles’s current intense thinking.

There were four facts he definitely knew:

Edwin was the person he loved most in the entire world.

Edwin was in love with him.

Charles’s instincts were, and had been for years, to make Edwin happy no matter what.

Charles didn’t want to do anything that might eventually hurt him if he was wrong.

Perhaps the third fact ought to have started some conversation about his own self-worth issues, but Charles decided to file that away for later. All he knew now was that he had to think this through. He had to be sure before he made a decision that could end up being stupid in the long run.

All this thinking had led Charles to focus on Edwin somehow even more than he had before. If he was in the room while Charles was supposed to be doing something, he would be distracted. If Charles was alone while he was supposed to be doing something, he would be distracted. It seemed that if Charles wanted to think through this as much as he should, he’d have to sacrifice his productivity in the agency. And as long as no one noticed or mentioned it, he was more than willing to do so.

In his staring, Charles had come to realise some tiny things about Edwin that he may have perhaps noticed before, but never really noticed. Like the way he would tap his notebook with the pencil while thinking about what to write; the way he would run his hands through his perfectly slicked hair whenever he was confused, or stressed, or embarrassed; the way his eyes would light up whenever Niko suggested they watch another episode of Scooby Doo. The one thing that wouldn’t leave Charles’s mind, however, is something he had noticed Edwin did around him.

He'd noticed it after the Night Nurse’s most recent visit. She was still bitter that she was being forced to oversee the agency in the first place, so had been her usual snarky self.

“I don’t know why I even agreed to help you two insolent boys. Oh wait, I didn’t agree to this! Please deal with this yourselves, I have a lot of paperwork to do!” she had said before she left the office.

She hadn’t physically used the door, but the annoyed way in which she disappeared from sight gave the implication of slamming it in their faces.

Immediately after she’d left, Charles had turned to look at Edwin, pursing his lips and looking down his nose at him in an attempt to recreate her bitchy expression.

“You two insolent boys,” he said imitating her high-pitched voice. “I have a lot of paperwork!”

And Edwin laughed. A real, genuine, from-the-chest laugh. And he smiled. It was exactly that smile that flicked some switch inside Charles’s brain.

Whenever he smiled around most people, it would be visible more in his eyes than anywhere else, his mouth only curling up slightly, his lips pressed tightly shut. Sometimes however, oh how his face brightened. Occasionally he would smile with his eyes and his mouth, showing his teeth in a glowing grin. It was beautiful.

It hit Charles that the only times he’d ever seen Edwin smile like that was when he was around him and him alone. It was as though that beaming grin was reserved just for him, and Charles savoured it every single time. He made it his death’s mission to make Edwin smile as often as physically possible. Every time he managed it, he felt like he had won.

Was it normal to think that way about your best mate’s smile? Was it normal to be elated to discover he seemingly has a smile especially for you? These were the thoughts that were currently doing laps around Charles’s brain.

The next time Charles found himself in crisis mode over Edwin was a few weeks later. They’d had a walk-in potential client, a young woman whose family had kept meeting unfortunate accidents in their house, who, after dying of a fall on their staircase, had discovered the house was actually haunted by a creature she suspected to be a poltergeist. They had heard her case, and were just onto the topic of payment when she pulled out an amulet, offering it with the explanation that it glowed in the presence of anything that had been in the presence of a demon. Notably, it was not glowing in the presence of either of the boys.

“Danielle,” Edwin began, in the tone Charles recognised as the way he always spoke when he was about to make a point and prove himself right. “You brought your case to us and we listened and agreed to take it, so clearly you trust us and our reputation. Hence, you should also have assumed that we, as supernatural detectives, have come into contact with demonic forces before. And if you hadn’t noticed, there is no glow in that amulet. It is clearly a fake. You really should have thought about that before bringing it to us as payment.”

Charles just stared at him, in awe. Edwin had done this many times, caught tricky clients in their lies as easy as anything. He’d done it with Emma when she’d brought Crystal’s case to them, claiming not to have any form of payment at all. Charles had always admired him when he did that, but now he really thought about it, the way he mesmerised him might have been for a reason deeper than simply ‘my best friend is so cool’.

“What?” the client gasped.

“The amulet is just a piece of jewellery. You knew that, didn’t you?”

“No?” she said, tearing up.

“Oh,” Edwin immediately softened. “Well, let me apologise for the last thirty seconds. It has happened a surprising amount of times over the last thirty-three years that we’ve had clients con us with claims they have a magical item to give as payment.”

“I didn’t know, I swear. It was the only thing I could think of to give because it was a family heirloom and my grandma had always told me it was magic. I’m just trying to help my family, please, my twins, they’re only four, they get into enough accidents as it is, I couldn’t bear for them to go through what I did because of that thing-”

“Danielle,” Edwin’s voice was so different from how it had been previously, no longer sharp and quick-witted but now soft and comforting. “I promise we will do everything we can to rid your home of whatever spirit it is that is lurking there.”

“But I don’t have anything else to give you-”

“We do occasionally take cases without payment, if the situation is dire. This counts. Do not worry about it.”

“Really? Thank you so much!”

“We are happy to help.”

Charles would have said something too, reassured her that they’d do the best job they could, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from Edwin. Somehow, the switch to his comforting, encouraging voice had even more of an effect on him.

When Edwin turned to Charles after Danielle left and asked if everything was okay since he’d been oddly quiet throughout the interview, he just smiled, claiming he was aces. Technically, it wasn’t a complete lie, just perhaps not the entire truth. He didn’t really know how to say ‘yeah, I’m fine, I just can’t seem to stop staring at you lately no matter what you’re doing,’ without it sounding at least a little strange.

The staring thing didn’t go away.

It had been a very warm day – not that the boys could actually tell, obviously. They’d only assumed since Niko had sauntered into the office in a flowy pink and orange summer dress with her bright pink heart sunglasses perched on her head, closely followed by Crystal in a purple mesh top and brown shorts. Their assumption had then been confirmed by the hour of complaining that followed.

While Edwin insisted on staying at the office to finish researching about demonic fungi, Charles tagged along with the girls when they eventually got too tired of the heat and decided to go and get ice-cream. He knew he couldn’t eat any himself, but he liked going into town with them, it made him feel a tiny bit like a normal living teenager for a little while. He’d gone into town to the cinema or to the arcade with his friends often when he was alive – even if those memories now left a sour taste in his mouth despite the fact taste was one of the senses he’d lost years ago.

The girls had nearly finished their ice-creams by the time they returned, Crystal giggling quietly when she noticed Niko had gotten some on the tip of her nose. Charles was just thinking about how much he loved seeing Crystal so happy as they re-entered the office.

Charles immediately noticed the change in Edwin’s outfit. When they’d left, he’d been wearing his matching pinstripe blue-grey blazer and trousers, his bow-tie perfectly tied and straight. Now, he’d lost the blazer, and his bow-tie was nowhere to be seen, the top few buttons of his shirt undone just enough to reveal his collarbones. The shirt, Charles also noted, had short sleeves. He’d never known Edwin to wear a short-sleeved shirt. He’d roll the sleeves up occasionally when they were working in the office, but it was always the same white long-sleeve.

Edwin had been more experimental with his clothing choices since his change of outfit in Port Townsend had gained him compliments from both Niko and Charles, but it had still always been some variation of his usual get-up – only slight changes to the colour scheme, or the fabric, or exchanging his blazer for a jumper. Charles had never seen him dressed this casually.

“Cool shirt, mate,” he said, unable to keep the smile off his face. Perhaps it was a strange thing to say about a plain white shirt, but he didn’t know how else to mention it nonchalantly. He was already using enough of his brainpower to focus on stopping himself staring at Edwin’s arms.

"Thank you, Charles,” Edwin said, looking down momentarily in that awkward yet endearing way he did whenever anyone complimented him.

“Oh, good,” Crystal said, halfway through retying her hair in a bun. “I know you guys don’t feel the heat but just seeing you in that jacket was making me sweat buckets.”

“Yes, well, I figured I might as well dress for the occasion, as it were.”

“It looks great!” Niko said excitedly.

Edwin smiled at her. It was different to the smile he gave most people, his eyes brightening even more than usual, like they always did around Niko. It still wasn’t the beaming grin he reserved just for Charles, though.

“How’s the research going?” Charles asked, trying to change the subject.

“Well. I believe I have all the information we need to identify which type of infernal fungus it is that is plaguing our client."

“Brills!”

With that, Edwin stood up from the desk, walking around it to put the book back in its very specific spot on the shelf. It was only then that Charles noticed it wasn’t only his shirt Edwin had changed – he was now wearing shorts, too. They were still the same blue-grey pinstripe, still the same formal style as his usual trousers, only now they ended just above his knee. He walked around the room as confidently as always, and Charles desperately tried to tear his eyes away from Edwin’s legs. But it seemed something had short-circuited in his brain, because he couldn’t think about anything else.

“Hey,” Crystal nudged him. “You good there?”

Charles snapped his head around to look at her.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Crystal just raised her eyebrows at him, then turned back to Niko.

He’d been thinking his love for Edwin might not be entirely platonic for a while, but the realisation well and truly hit him after they’d just wrapped up a particularly hard-hitting case.

A 14-year-old boy had come to the office. He’d recently died but had no idea how, his only memory being coming home from a friend’s house, walking into the living room to find his mother sitting on the sofa watching TV, then feeling a sharp pain on the back of his head. When he woke up, he was in an ambulance, and was now detached from his physical form.

After some investigation of the boy’s house, they’d found a metal rod in the back of the shed in the garden. And they’d caught someone going there once every couple of days to check it was still hidden. It had been the boy’s father.

Edwin had felt horrible having to drag Charles away from hugging the sobbing boy as Death arrived for him.

Charles had been quiet ever since. Edwin hadn’t asked if he was okay – he already knew the answer. He’d dropped onto the sofa as soon as they got back to the office, his head in his hands. Edwin had given him a moment, before he slowly sat beside him, giving him as much space as possible.

“Charles?” he asked quietly, tapping his shoulder so gently it was barely even a touch.

Rather than push him away like he had back near the lighthouse in Port Townsend, Charles leaned into the touch. Edwin tentatively shuffled closer to him until Charles barely had to move to lean further into his space. Edwin just pulled him close.

“Whatever you need, I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m always here.”

Charles let out a sob into Edwin’s chest, and he only held him closer.

And in amongst all the anger, all the pain, all the tears, the love he felt was overwhelming. He was breaking down, sobbing, finally letting out emotions he felt like he’d been locking away for years, and instead of turning away from him, instead of judging him or telling him to ‘man-up’ like his friends or his father would have, Edwin Payne just held him. And Charles couldn’t contain the intense love he felt for him. He’d do anything for this to never end, for Edwin to always be there for him and for him to always be there for Edwin in return. He wanted to stay in Edwin’s arms forever. And luckily for him, they had just that. They had forever, eternity.

They held each other until the sun rose, and talked about it in the morning.

Charles was reeling after his realisation. He was confident now. He just had to find a way to tell him.

The four of them were walking down the street together, finally just hanging out as a group outside of a case. He’d zoned out watching Edwin once again, his mouth slightly agape, this time imagining different scenarios where he confessed that he was wrong on that staircase while Edwin was several paces ahead, having been dragged towards a Scooby-Doo themed shop window display by Niko.

Crystal nudged him in the side from her spot beside him.

“You sure you’re okay? You’ve been weirdly…spacey recently,” she said, a concerned look on her face.

Charles turned to her, voicing the only coherent thought he had.

“I think I’m in love with Edwin.”

[sotwk]

Taken (Eomer x unnamed OC) - Part 2 of 3

Part 1 / Part 3

Love Confession feat. Eomer Eadig

Valentine 2023 Event by @sotwk

Summary: Eomer is determined to convince the woman he loves of his long-hidden devotion, but the obligations of his new crown and her baseborn origins shake her faith in their future together.

Prompt: "It's hard for me to describe what I feel for you… but just know that it's love nonetheless."

Requested by and Dedicated to: @laneynoir You've probably forgotten about making this Valentine ask, but I remember and write down everything you ask of me! <3 Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3.9k

Content: Angsty romance, declarations of love, jealousy, mutual pining, class division, shield-maiden, King Eomer, post-RotK, non-canon pairing

Rating: T (Teens and up)

Warnings: Excessive angst? Verbal passion? This is clean but it will do a number on your feels.

To Read on AO3: Link

Tumblr Post for Taken, Part 1: Link

Taken 

Third Age 3019 May 2

Minas Tirith, Gondor

PART TWO

“My lord, are you certain it is safe for you to go without a proper escort?” 

Eomer cast a taut but amused smirk at Haleth, son of Hama, over the horse they had just finished tacking up together. His new squire, one of the youngest fighters to survive the Battle of Hornburg, had been appointed to the post just very recently, and so still had much to learn. 

Eomer dismissed the given counsel that a king needed someone with experience in his direct service, not a novice that required training. He had seen with his own eyes how bravely Hama’s orphaned boy had helped to defend the refugees at the Glittering Caves; in Eomer’s eyes, the child had earned the honor several times over.

“Surely you don’t mean to imply that the King of the Horse-lords is incapable of defending himself on a short ride?”

“No, sire. It is just…” Haleth’s eyes darted about nervously and he lowered his voice. “You ride with a woman. If something were to happen, would you not have to defend yourself and her as well?”

At that, Eomer chuckled. “I commend your gallant instincts lad, but I advise you not to make such an insinuation in the presence of a known shield-maiden. They do not take kindly to having their abilities questioned, and will be quick to set you right.” He patted his squire’s shoulder to show that no offense was taken. “Rest assured that the lady is more than capable of holding her own, and of shielding me from harm if need be.” 

The boy need not know that Eomer would sooner die than put her in that position. He had kept that a secret from her and the rest of his Éored for years, although perhaps a little too successfully and to his own detriment.  

Riding Firefoot into the white-stone square courtyard that connected the galleries of stables, Eomer quickly saw that she was already waiting for him, standing alert beside her own horse. Greywind, a dappled mare that bore no meager resemblance to her equine brother, tossed her head and whickered softly at Firefoot's approach. It was a warmer reception than his master received.

"Good morning, my lord," the shield-maiden acknowledged with a nod as curt as her tone. Royal protocol satisfied, she turned and swung up into the saddle of her own steed. 

Her cold shoulder was to be his comeuppance, then. So be it. Her silent rages were nothing Eomer had not seen, borne, and successfully navigated before. 

But today, this time, would be different. Everything was sure to be different after that kiss, which, after a sleepless night of pondering and self-debating, he would still swear on Bema was no mistake. Clumsy perhaps, but an action he did not regret leaping into. There was no part of Eomer that did not desire to repeat it, over and over. 

First, he must resolve the confusion his recklessness had caused. 

"Follow my lead,” he said, and spurred Firefoot on toward the exit gates. 

His command came from habits formed over years of riding together, and so did her immediate obedience. Her loyalty had always been faultless; loyalty to Rohan, loyalty to him. Whenever he called and whatever he asked for, she gave, just as she came to meet him now, regardless of what had transpired between them last night. 

This new epiphany that her devotion to him might be encouraged not just by duty, but a love to reciprocate his, still felt like too much to hope for. 

They rode side by side down the levels of Minas Tirith, and soon were past the city’s great white walls. At the slightest shift of his master’s weight, Firefoot burst into a full charge down the North-way, rejoicing at the freedom to run across open land once more, an impatience that mirrored Eomer’s own. Next to them, Greywind and rider matched their gait to keep up, and they tore their way for several miles northward into Pelennor. 

Eomer’s body sang at the rush of the wind over his skin, through his hair and his cloak that streamed over Firefoot’s haunches. Too long had he been cooped up within the city walls, tethered to the duties of his new office. It still felt unseemly for him to carry the title of King while his uncle had yet to be properly laid to rest among his forebears, but he was determined to serve in every manner his people required. 

This involved taking guidance from his newly formed council, who seemed to believe that the first order of business was to reaffirm and restrengthen Rohan's alliance with Gondor. In the weeks that followed the great feast at Cormallen, Eomer spent more time with new acquaintances, lords and ladies from the noblest families of Gondor, than with his own men. His Éored, who had been the rock at his side for nearly the whole of the past year, were granted time to rest and convalesce according to their desires, and every one eagerly embraced the offered leave.

That included her, most painfully and noticeably. Each day that passed by filled with council meetings and formal dinners but nearly nothing of her, had dragged Eomer further into despair. When she finally reappeared for the coronation, dressed the way she was…small wonder that he finally lost hold on propriety the moment he touched her. 

In seemingly no time at all, they left it all behind. The high ramparts and looming towers of the grand city turned into a white speck on the mountainside. So far out north into the fields and away from the main road, they had separated themselves from the thousands that had flocked to the city to celebrate the coronation, and retreated into the peace of the vast plains that bore some semblance to their home. 

Eomer eased Firefoot into a relaxed pace and she followed suit. Afterward they were blanketed in silence but for the clink of tack and thud of hooves on the long grass finally regrown in the end of Pelennor’s strifes. 

One sideways glance showed Eomer that she remained resolved to look anywhere but in his direction. No matter. If she refused to look at him, he would gladly stare at her, and take his fill of what he had been deprived of for weeks. 

He had forgotten what a vision she made outside of armor, so long had they lived in battle gear. The gown she wore to the coronation ball had distracted him all evening, but it painted her beauty too foreign. The plain clothes of their people suited her best. On her, the wine-red dress underneath her green Rider’s cloak outstripped any fine silk confection. Her hair, usually held back in tight braids or trapped underneath a war helm, flowed in free waves that tumbled to her waist and made his fingers ache with longing. 

To see her in this manner reminded him of what Rohirrim sacrifice had achieved: the end to a life of constant peril, and in its place, domestic bliss. Eomer knew he would be wholly content to look upon her this way forever. And by Bema, by all the Valar that might hear, he prayed that she would let him. 

Another mile or two passed in the bleak silence before the skies gave him the opening he needed. The faint drizzle that had lazily harried them gradually intensified into a downpour, and the menacing grey clouds above rumbled a fair warning. 

Eomer pointed to a copse of beeches in the distance. “That should suffice for us to wait out the worst of it,” he said, and they directed their horses into the thicket. 

After releasing Firefoot and Greywind to find cover and graze at their leisure, they took their shelter underneath the tree with the most generous canopy. As Eomer watched her gather the cascade of her soaked hair over one shoulder, she happened to raise her eyes in his direction and catch his gaze. Her face remained impassive, but she did not look away again. She knew she could no longer delay what he had requested her company for. 

“May we speak now?”

The tense lines on her brow softened. “My lord,” she said, in a tone that was almost contrite. “I am here to listen to whatever you wish to say.”

“Good,” Eomer said, and needed one more breath to steady himself. “Good...” 

"Long has there been great camaraderie between us as comrades in arms, but in time that deepened into…more meaningful affection.” When she did not flinch at that attestation, he carried on. “After last night, it is clear that we must lay bare the extent of our feelings and finally be open with each other."

Her mouth trembled. “My lord--”

“I love you,” Eomer said. “I recognize no plainer truth than that. I am no bard or scholar, and so it is hard for me to describe what I feel for you...as it would be hard for anyone to explain the glory of the sun or the vastness of the skies. But you must know that it is love, nonetheless."

She remained silent at this, and her clenched jaw told him no response was forthcoming. But he had more. 

“These past years, Rohan’s protection occupied all of my waking thoughts. There was no time to consider ambitions for myself. And what need did I have for that, when the sole object of my desires rode in my company to every battle? But after all our years together, I suppose I began to take for granted that you would always be close by, even while I drowned in fear that one sword stroke could separate us forever."

He edged a step closer to her, driven by the mere suggestion of such unspeakable loss. 

“When you grew distant after Theodred's passing, I awoke to my folly. I wished to blame your withdrawal from me on your grief, but my jealous mind whispered that my long buried suspicions were confirmed, that you had always desired his devotion over mine. I wrestled with the torment from it, until last night, when you gave me reason to hope again.” 

“But..but I did not…y-you had never…” She cut off her own stammering and squared herself determinedly before continuing. “I never found sufficient cause to believe you could care for me so, my lord.” 

“The fault is mine for not being forthright with you from the start. I will do whatever I must to remedy that now.” Suddenly they were face to face on the same side of the tree, for she had not thought to dart away from his advances this time. “I would shout it from the very spire of their great Tower if it will end your doubts.” 

He reached for her, and the edge of his hand found her chin. Contrary to his bold declaration he repeated, barely above a whisper: “I love you.” 

“No,” she murmured back. “Please. You must not say such things.” 

“Why not, when it is the truth?”

“Because it is a truth you cannot act on.”

Eomer’s hand dropped to his side as he barked a humorless laugh. “Granted I have not held the role for very long, but that seems a peculiar thing to tell a King.”

“You are the King now, and that binds you to do things according to your duty, not according to your desire.” She lowered her head. “That is the truth that matters, my lord. Love cannot always prevail over everything.”

The familiar frustration marked with dread clawed at Eomer again. “My love for you will prevail over this,” he vowed. “Moreso because it is love returned.”

Only the sound of splattering rainfall followed, and the realization that she was starting to turn away.

“You… you do love me.”

“I do not.”

The ensuing crack of thunder paled against the shock her reply struck in Eomer. She slipped away from his side once more while he fumbled through his recollections of the previous night.

Drunk as he had been on the taste of her kisses, he could not have misunderstood her impassioned outburst. You are all I ever see, even when I do not wish to!  He had dissected that precious confession over and over in his head and basked in sweeter hope that he had ever dared to feel about anything.

“I will not accept that. I do not believe it!”

In a handful of strides he overtook her as she fled to the edge of the grove, where the trees stood further apart and exposed them to the deluge. 

“What is causing you to deny me? Deny yourself, deny us?!” She attempted to step around him, but Eomer blocked her progress relentlessly. “Is it that misguided belief of yours that I am, in your words, ‘taken’?” 

Finally she succumbed and stood in place, cold and drenched and as stock-still as a soldier holding the line. But Eomer found the answer clear on her grimace. 

"Do you mistake me for some bull that has been put on the market for the highest bidder? Or believe me so feeble that I have no control over my choice of wife?!"

She stiffened at his rising rebuke and shook her head. “Not just a wife, my lord. A Queen. You must choose the right woman to offer to Rohan as our long-awaited Queen.”

“Marry me and it is done.”

Immediately her eyes widened and her face blanched, as his bluntness finally plowed through her shields.  “Oh Eomer,” she breathed, and the return of his name on her lips nearly rendered him as dazed as she was. 

He moved to embrace her, but she clutched him by the forearms, guarding her space. He felt her fingers tremble as they dug into the fabric of his tunic sleeves. He thought he might have heard a sob, but in the rain it was impossible to discern the source of the drops slipping down her cheeks. 

“I know you are wiser than that,” she told him. “You know Rohan’s political realities, regardless of your distaste for them. Your rise to your uncle’s throne has separated us by a chasm that cannot be bridged.” She sensed his intention to interrupt and spoke even louder. “I am an orphaned stray, Eomer. Theodred’s favor may have rescued me from a life of insignificance, but I am still baseborn by anyone's standards. Yet however lowly I am, I can hold my head up with pride, because I have always known my place.”

“As do I.” Eomer slid his hand up the curve of her neck. “Your place is with me.”

“Yes it is.” Her smile was joyless as she gripped his wrist to keep his obvious desires at bay. “I belong at your side, on the open fields, with a sword in my hand, ready to give my life for you at a moment's notice. You gifted me with purpose, and riding in your company has brought me such honor. Please do not ask me to play a role where I will only fail and return to an object of derision.”

Eomer frowned. “I have only ever loved you. No one else is suitable for me to take to wife.”

She lifted those beautiful eyes to stare dead-evenly at him for the first time in months. “Dol Amroth,” she whispered. “The daughter of Prince Imrahil.”

The sadness in her eyes lifted the fog of ignorance that obfuscated him. He recognized that pain as the very same one that had pierced him each time he watched her in Theodred’s company. The way they smiled at each other, their intimate touches, their freely exchanged affection that made his stomach twist with envy. But he had been wrong in his interpretation of that situation, and so was she on this one. 

“What of her?” he said brusquely, pushing aside his full realization of what she was implying. 

“One does not have to sit at the council table to see the soundness of your match.”

“There is no match!”

“Then there will be and there should be!” she insisted. “Everyone sees it, and if you tell me you do not, then you have no right to accuse me of denying what is true.”

A low growl rumbled off Eomer and suddenly he was the one to swivel away, rubbing his face and rain-matted beard while he weighed his answer.

“I do not deny that overtures have been made by advisors, both mine and King Elessar's," he said finally. "Lothiriel does seem an obvious candidate to put forward as a consort for the King of Rohan. But that appropriateness has nothing to do with me. Had Theodred survived to stand in my place, they would be pushing her to him. Have I been counseled on the benefits of an alliance with Imrahil's house? Oh yes--with the subtlety of a hammer's blow. But I barely paid heed to that, since all that mattered to me was your opinion on the subject."

"My opinion," she echoed. She planted her hands on her hips and studied her muddied boots for a long moment. "I can offer you what I know. You, Eomer King, will be the greatest ruler the Mark has ever seen. Your rule deserves every opportunity it can claim, and this offer of an alliance with Dol Amroth is one you cannot dismiss. I have heard nothing but praise and approval at the prospect, from mouths both common and noble."

"Princess Lothiriel is young, and beautiful, and beloved. Her blood is of the most distinguished and most powerful house in Gondor. She will give you exactly what you need. What Rohan needs."

She suddenly came forward to cradle Eomer's face between her hands, a touch he had only experienced in dreams until then. Except this was more akin to his worst nightmare. His inner wretchedness must have become evident in his furrowed brow and was too pitiful to ignore. "Moreover she will adore you, if she has not fallen already, for no maiden has ever lived whose heart you cannot ensnare.”

“Do not flatter me in one breath only to spurn me in the next,” Eomer muttered. “I did not ask for you to wax poetic about my future with another woman. I want your thoughts about all that matters. Us.”

“Us?”

She tried to withdraw her hands, but Eomer caught them in time, and held them firm against his chest, as if it could make her feel how consumed his heart was by her. 

“Once I might have carried hope for us,” she said softly. “Hope that I could one day be enough, because I knew you cared for Rohan above all else and admired my dedication to our people. I thought perhaps in time, that admiration might grow to love, as mine did so quickly after I met you."

“But it did, it--”

Her hands jerked inside his grip, their next attempt at escape futile. “Any hope I had for us died with Theodred,” she said tersely. “When his charge as the King's heir passed on to you. Let it rest with him.”

The roll of receding thunder brought Eomer back to a distinct memory of that dreadful day at Isen. The raw anguish on her face as she looked up at him with Theodred's head on her lap. Her frightened reluctance at releasing the prince for Eomer to take on Firefoot. 

It had rained too when Eomer came to bring her the news of his passing not a day later. Ignoring the heavy downpour, she ran out to meet him as he approached her cottage, and broke down before he could get the words out. He had to lead her back inside and wrap her in a blanket before she caught a chill. She clung tightly to him as he held her for a long while, bewildered by her sobs. It was the only time he had ever seen her weep. 

Only then did it dawn on Eomer: it was not just the loss of Theodred that she had mourned. 

“Run away with me.” 

It burst from his lips without a thought. 

“Wh-What? No!” She yanked away from him with such force he was left grasping for empty air. 

“Come with me, and let us run away together.” He rushed after her as she strode toward their horses. She already knew his mind, but he also knew hers, and there was nothing left for him to employ to sway her to his thinking. Nothing but this brazen proposal. 

“Away to where?!” she cried, without bothering to look his way. She came up to Greywind and seized her saddle pommel, but Eomer’s hand closed around hers, stilling her progress. 

“Anywhere. Far enough to take you away from all this--” Eomer swung out his free arm in a gesture as wild as the fervor in his eyes. “Away from everything that is confusing you.”

She started shaking her head vigorously and backing away. “Eomer, no. You are mad!”

“Do not tell me that!” Eomer lurched forward in pursuit, yet knew better than to grab her. She could not lose him out here where there was nowhere to hide. But he would lose her if she shut him out again by refusing to listen. 

“Do not tell me I am mad when the only madness is you believing we do not deserve a future together!” Each time he blocked her path, she pivoted in another direction, and he immediately swerved to repeat the dance. “Madness is you rejecting a man who yearns for you more than a mortal heart could possibly bear, clinging to the barefaced lie that you do not feel exactly the same.”

At that, she fell still. In the stillness Eomer realized that the rainstorm had finally dissipated, and in studying her face, he noticed the drops that continued to slip from the edges of her closed eyes, gliding to her quivering jaw. 

“You know as well as I that we belong together.” He caught one of the tears with the edge of his thumb, smoothing his finger over her soft, flushed skin. “So let us take the road west and… and just keep riding. Let me take you home. Our people here will follow soon enough, and when they arrive we can meet them as man and wife.”

“Eomer,” she sighed, before falling silent, her eyes still shut. He hoped she would take her time finding ease, so she may really consider his offer. But she responded immediately, too quickly, once again. “We cannot just abandon our obligations.”

“You insist we cannot, but we can. You can do whatever you wish. You just need to decide what that is--"

“No! No, no, no…” The word morphed into whimpers on her lips, an effort to drown him out.

“--and that is all I ask. That you shut out thoughts of all else and answer truly, from your heart." Something in Eomer’s throat tightened, as though an invisible hand had seized his neck and threatened to choke him. He swallowed and persisted with all the courage he could muster. "Will you marry me?"

“No.”

“Please.” It tasted bitter on his tongue, for Eomer son of Eomund had never begged for anything in his life, even as it took the last shreds of pride for him not to fall on his knees in his final bid. “I am asking you for the truth. Your truth alone. Do you want me?”

Her eyes fluttered open, bearing the steely determination and battle strength that had won his respect years ago, and in that moment Eomer saw that that inner fire he loved would now crush him.

“No,” she answered. “I do not.”

To be continued in Part 3...

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[stupidlittlespirit]

HIII may a request a drabble of fem-bodied reader giving virgin reigen head please 🙏🏾 this might sound weird but I really liked how you wrote his virginity and made it seem genuine ykwim?? TYSM and there’s no pressure to write it ❤️ take ur time :)

oh anon, you're in luck.... I've been meaning to write a blow job all week and you've spurred me into action, so not only do you get a drabble, you get to be the first to receive my crappy attempt at designing a header! Congratulations, try not to get too excited at my artistic prowess now....

Rating: NSFW Type: Drabble Tags: Oral sex, swallowing, virginity mention, semi-public sex, Reigen being a fucking jerk, professional grade blow job. Word count: 2239

It had started as a joke. 

A passing comment one night. You’d been going back and forth about non-existent sex lives and your own lacklustre suitors, holed up in a tiny dive bar, several glasses deep with your boss whilst laughing and teasing one another in a way that anyone else overseeing might call inappropriate for a work outing.

Except a joke usually stays as just that: a silly thing spoken once between friends that isn’t mentioned again. This, however, has never quite been put to bed. 

“Maybe if you kept one head busy, you wouldn’t lose the other so quickly,” is all you’d said that night, grinning up at him from where you’d been slouched across the table. A cheeky jibe with only a gentle heat behind it.

“And what makes you think that’s a problem I'd have?” Reigen had scoffed around his cigarette, affronted like he’d never mentioned his own virginity to you in a shy, drunken confession several months ago. You’re not even sure he remembers doing it. 

Wary to bring it up again for fear of spoiling the mood, you’d shrugged. “You just strike me as the type.” 

Reigen had laughed, a little too loudly and a little too forcefully. “As if someone like me would do that. I get plenty of practice, I can hold out for hours, thank you very much.” 

The lie had been blatant and every time you think back on it, you’re certain Reigen had to have known how obvious he’d sounded, and yet…. The topic has come up at least twice since and every time, Reigen has pushed for you to take it back, and without fail you’ve always refused. 

Again, today, Reigen had made an unprovoked comment about his outstanding prowess and, as is your nature, you’d been unable to help throwing out a teasing call out of his Loudest Man in the Room routine alongside a half-hopeful bet of him barely making it ten minutes.

And, as is Reigen’s nature, he’d snapped back with yet another poorly thought through comment: “Well if you’re so fucking sure, why don’t you come find out for yourself?” 

Which is why, on a rainy Wednesday evening, close to the end of office hours, you’re spending the last quarter of your day on the cold tiles of the shop floor with your boss’ cock buried deep in your throat. 

You’re tucked neatly under his desk, hidden from view of the unlocked, slightly open office door as you work him with your mouth, spit slick on your lips and rapidly coating the hand that you hold the base of his cock steady with. 

Reigen’s legs are spread wide in order to nestle you between them, the heels of his cheap loafers digging into the ground, desperate for purchase to counter the sliding wheels of his desk chair. 

He’s been doing his best to keep himself under control for the better part of the entire two minutes that you’ve been down here and he’s been failing miserably. His grip on the desk’s edge is white knuckled, his breathing laboured and ragged between his low groans, and when you open your eyes slightly to check on him, the poor thing looks wrecked already. 

His face is bright red and there’s sweat on his brow like he’s run a mile. Reigen’s gaze is glassy with pleasure, looking right through you until he senses your eyes on his and that famous charade comes crashing back down like it always does. 

“Not so-“ A gasp of breath. “Not so smart now, huh?” He chokes out, mouth twitching up into a mean grin. 

You’ve never rolled your eyes mid-blow job before, but Reigen often manages to bring out the worst of your impatience and this is no different. He’s utterly unbearable. You absolutely must make him cum. 

Swiftly, you release him from your throat to pull off up to the head of his cock before you swirl your tongue wickedly around the most sensitive part of him, and Reigen moans loudly, high pitched and pathetic, his wise-crack dying in his throat.

The buckle of his belt jingles as his hips twitch forward and you hold his thighs tightly to still him. This is your turn to get back at him, no matter how much he thinks he’s in charge here. He grows impossibly harder in your mouth and you can tell, instantly, that he’s going to blow his load any second now. 

You can taste the sweat on his skin, the salt of it mixing with the growing pre-cum on the head of his cock, and your eyes fall closed in pleased preparation: both for the mouthful to follow and the gloating rights you’ll have for the next week or so. You’re not going to let this go for a long- 

The phone on the desk rings, shrill and loud.

Reigen jolts so suddenly that you almost gag on him and your eyes fly open in shock to meet his. For a second, you still, sharing a look of mutual surprise. Technically you’re still on the clock: it’s quarter to five and you’re not due to shut for another fifteen minutes, but it isn’t often that you get a client so close to the end of play. 

The phone continues to bleat about its annoying presence and slowly, Reigen’s look of surprise shifts into one of flustered cunning. A lopsided smirk grows on his reddened mouth and he visibly steels himself before he reaches one hand out towards the phone. 

“Keep my head busy, right?” He breathes, smug and slightly relieved, and abruptly you realise he’s about to checkmate you with your own suggestion. 

You go to pull off of him, to talk him out of it, but Reigen is in his element when he thinks he’s got the upper hand. There’s not much that can stop him and before you can even lift up halfway, his free hand finds your hair, fingers tangling in it tightly, and he pushes your head back down. 

It’s firm but gentle, and in spite of his cavalier attitude, his know-it-all masquerade, the look in Reigen's eyes conveys a soft request for permission. A hint of affection simmers under his obnoxious front. It’s so unexpected that it makes your stomach flutter and you offer no resistance to his half-demand, sinking back down and taking him with ease. You'd rather hand him the advantage than have to examine that feeling too deeply right now.

Reigen clears his throat and snatches up the phone, clicking the little answer button and launching straight into his preferred persona. “Spirits and Such Consultation,” he says, voice only slightly wobbly. “How can I help?” 

You can hear the customer on the phone say something, their words garbled through the receiver, and Reigen hums in acknowledgment. His eyes lock with yours again and as requested, you return to your work.  

You move your head slowly to begin with. If Reigen wants to be a smart ass about things, why shouldn’t you torture him a little bit? As far as you’re aware, this is his first blow job: it would be terrible to leave him with a disappointing impression, after all. Might as well set the bar high. 

Every pass of your wet mouth is agonisingly slow, drool slipping from the corners of your lips as you lave spit across every inch of his cock. Reigen isn’t impressively endowed by any means: he’s perfectly average, in fact, but it allows you to be enthusiastic in your affection. You can take him deep and hold him there without too much trouble, and it gives you a bit of an advantage even though he’s trying his best to outlast your efforts. 

You bob your head up and down slowly, watching him with fond amusement as he attempts to keep himself together for the sake of professional dignity. 

“I’d be happy to help,” he says, a little strained. “Spirits and Such prides itself on always going the distance.” A smirk ghosts across his face, evidently tickled by his own joke, and you’re not sure how it’s possible for someone to be so fucking annoying even mid-coitus. 

Clueless, the customer thanks him profusely and launches into a chatty over-explanation of their problem. Reigen clearly isn’t listening to a damn word the guy is saying: every fibre of his being is directed into hiding the fact that he’s on the receiving end of a thorough blow job from his secretary.

You decide that the best way to get a little own-back on him is to mirror his game. Reigen likes to be a show off and although you can never even dream of getting close to his level of showmanship, you’re happy to try. With a vulgar smack, you release his cock from your mouth and press a coy kiss to the tip, your tongue chasing it with sloppy attention and the hand that you hold him steady begins to work the soaked base in time with your tongue, the motion squelching quietly with every talented twist of your wrist. 

Reigen exhales heavily through his nose and bites down on his lower lip with a shudder, unable to look away despite the client still droning on in his ear, and this time it’s your turn to offer a prideful grin.

Making a show of it, you run your tongue up and down the underside of the head slowly, the saliva allowing your lips to glide along the skin in a tantalising tease of movement, and just as Reigen opens his mouth to respond to the customer with a meaningless affirmative, you take his full length back into your mouth in one fluid motion, all the way to the base with practised ease. 

Reigen’s hope of playing it cool is scuppered instantly and he fails to catch the pathetic little sob that tumbles from his mouth. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling the strands so hard that your scalp burns and tears prickle the corners of your eyes. 

“Fuck!” Reigen gasps, one knee banging the desk as he convulses forward violently. 

The client on the phone says something and Reigen scrambles to save some face: “So sorry!” He chokes out, not sounding anything of the sort. “Emergency in the office! Call you right back!” And then he’s hanging up, tossing the phone onto the desk and gripping your hair with both hands. 

He rocks his hips up once, twice, and then he’s cumming hard down your throat with a broken and outrageously lewd moan. 

You’re prepared for his reaction and you swallow around him, happily taking whatever he has to offer and staying put even when some of it trickles from the corner of your eager mouth, ruining the front of your blouse. A consummate  professional, through and through. 

When it’s clear he’s done, you reach up to extricate his fingers from your head and Reigen slumps back in his chair, letting you go without argument. 

A mix of drool and cum trails from your lips to his cock as you push his chair backwards to give yourself room, wetness dripping down your chin, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. 

Reigen, panting hard and splayed out in his seat, rubs the sweat from his brow. “Fuck,” he says again, swallowing thickly and trying to catch his breath. “Fuck.” 

You laugh quietly at his debauched state, entertained by his frustration, and glance toward the clock. “That was like, four minutes,” you say, and it’s hard not to sound proud about the achievement. “I win.” 

Avoiding your gaze, Reigen grimaces at the wetness on the crotch of his slacks and huffs. “That’s not fair,” he mutters, ears red. “And you used your hand too, that’s cheating. It doesn’t count.” 

This guy is a fucking nightmare. “Don’t be a sore loser,” you smirk, climbing to your feet and ignoring the creaking of your knees. 

Despite his soiled suit, Reigen tucks himself away and buckles his belt again without comment. His unusual silence belies his embarrassment. Once he’s a little more decent, he casts a glance your way and gives you a once over, nose slightly wrinkled.

You’re expecting him to say thanks, maybe even offer to return the favour, but instead he stretches out one long leg and kicks you gently on the ass, encouraging you to step out from behind his desk. 

“You’re a mess,” he quips, as though he doesn’t look like he’s just emptied almost every fibre of his being down your neck. “Clean yourself up. I gotta call this guy back.” 

You stumble aside, gaping at his unbelievable (yet admittedly unsurprising) gall. Every time Reigen opens his mouth, you’re always amazed at how well he manages to push your buttons, and just as you start across the room, tongue bitten to hold back a snarky remark, Reigen calls your name. 

You glance back to where he’s sitting, his feet kicked up on his desk, the picture of his usual charismatic, jerk-off self, the phone pressed to his ear. “It was six minutes, actually,” Reigen says matter-of-factly as the line rings. “And you owe me ramen for cheating.” 

Before you can even think of responding, the client answers on the other end of the phone and Reigen shifts back into his salesman’s spiel, effortlessly slipping into character as though nothing unusual has occurred. 

“Terribly sorry about that,” he apologises, trying hard not to smile at the mess on the front of your shirt. He meets your eyes and winks, charming and cheeky. “Something unexpected came over my secretary.” 

Asshole.

haha suck-retary (please clap)

{header image source, edited by me}

[aetherdoesthings]

my little brat~ (MINORS DNI!!!) [REUPLOAD]

forethoughts: 100th post on the blog is smut. hehe. i know i said i wouldn't write page long smut but as i was writing this i may have crossed the page limit. oopsies. the grip robin has on me 😔

notes: fem!reader, BDSM themed, dom!robin, sub!reader, light bondage, robin calling reader a brat

word count: 1.8k (i too am shocked by this number)

[this is a reupload because problem happened]

“You couldn’t just get yourself out of trouble, can you?” Robin let out a sigh, circling around the bed, her eyes glued to the sight in front of her. 

“Mmmmmnn…” You moaned, moving your head to the direction of her voice, breathing through the ball gag that occupied your mouth. Because of a small stunt you had pulled earlier in the day, one that involved you nearly falling off the Sunny, Robin was furious at you. She didn’t express her feelings yet, until night came. You were kneeling on the king sized bed, knees nearly touching the edge of the bed. Your calves were bound to your thighs with silk ropes, arms tied behind your back. You knew Robin was mad at you; you knew why she was mad at you. But your situation now was starting to make the idea of pissing your girlfriend off seem delightful. 

You bucked your hips forward to no avail, a pathetic whine leaving your mouth as Robin sneered at you. There was nothing close enough to you to give you the pleasure you so desperately craved, except for the bedsheets underneath you. 

A whine was ripped out of your throat as Robin’s hand curled around your neck, squeezing the sides with enough pressure to let you know that she wasn’t fucking around, but not enough pressure to actually do damage to your jugular veins. 

“Does my brat think she can get pleasure?” Robin scoffed, forcing you to look her in the eyes. “It seems I have been too lenient with you. Well then. All the more reason to teach you a lesson you won’t forget.” 

Robin unbuckled the gag around your mouth, letting the drool roll down your face. The babydoll she wore found its way on the ground next to your mountain of clothes, as she sat juxtaposed to you. While you knelt with the muscles in your thigh screaming for mercy, Robin leaned back like a queen on a throne, spreading her legs. 

With the nod of her head, you bent down, knees still spread apart. You dove head first into what you could only call perfection.

Everything about Nico Robin was perfect. Personality, looks, whatever it was it was pure perfection in your infatuated eyes. You could never fathom the idea of people calling her the ‘Devil Child’, when all you saw was an angel from heaven. But God, if Robin’s pussy isn't the prettiest little thing you’ve ever seen. 

With only your mouth at disposal, you take a deep breath, before licking a long strip across Robin’s slit.

Despite Robin’s stoic expression, her body filled in that empty space. Her hand went to your head, cutting off any potential air to your nose. You didn’t mind. You would die a very happy soul if you were to die in between Robin’s legs. Grunts of pleasure and chuckles could be heard, which only spurred you further on. Your tongue flicked back and forth over her clit, before alternating to a languid circle around as you flattened your tongue against the hardened nub. Oh, how you wished to see Robin’s expression to you and your tongue dipped between her puffy folds, gathering her slick before greedily swallowing it down. 

“Hah… at least there’s one good thing that comes out of your mouth, you little brat.” Robin snickered, still in that domme headspace she always loved to be in whenever you would be on your knees servicing your mistress.

“Mmmmnn…” You whined in response, getting back to work. You knew you were doing a damn good job when Robin’s legs were thrown across your shoulders, locking your head in between her trembling thighs. By the way you could start to feel your heartbeat in your head, it was a matter of time before you’d pass out from the sheer lack of oxygen. But not before you made your mistress come. You wanted to make a mess of Robin, wanted to drown in her heavenly juices and feel the pride of making your mistress come undone with just your organ. Your tongue traced over every little fold of her lips, mouth wrapping over her clit and sucking until a sharp gasp exited Robin’s mouth, but the iron grip around your head did not falter. You continued to do little kitten licks over her pussy, letting her ride out her high on your face, rubbing that sweet juice all over. Your eyes looked up at your mistress, a sense of pleasure and pride swirling around in your stomach when you saw her face. As her eyes met yours, you blinked twice, and she immediately removed her legs from your shoulders, letting you sit up as oxygen finally entered your body. 

Instantly, you could feel the lower half of your face wet and messy with slick and saliva; being buried in between your mistress’ warmth suppressed the gross and wet feeling. Even if you could, you resisted the urge to wipe it away, because the hungry and pleased look on Robin’s face was all the confirmation and assurance you needed.

Robin sat on her knees, a pleased smile on her face as she scooped your face. A contrast to her attitude prior, she smiled at you, leaning closer to give you a kiss on your lips, still covered in her slick.

“Color?” Robin asked, as she ran her fingers through your hair.

“G-Green.” You responded. A system Robin had set up before you even had your first session with her, in order to help her know if she was actually hurting you or not, and for you to express your feelings and needs during a session. 

Robin chuckled, kissing your forehead. “My little brat. Are the binds too tight?”

“No. I’m okay.”

Robin nodded her head, satisfied with your answer. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet. Turn around, head on the pillow, ass up.”

You did what she said, as you watched Robin get off the bed, strolling over to that drawer, conjuring her favorite strap and the largest dildo you owned, spreading a healthy amount of lube over the purple silicon, as she made her way back to you.

“So that’s what it takes for you to listen, huh? A pussy in your face and a cock in your cunt?” Robin sneered, as her hand made contact with your ass, a loud smack echoing the room. You whined in response, tilting your head sideways so you could breathe. Her left hand held your bound arms, while her right lined up the tip to your glistening and drenched folds. Your pussy squeezed against the unyielding silicon dildo. It's big, and you want it.

Robin’s voice took on a more serious tone as she created a dip in the mattress. “Safeword?”

“Bumblebee.” You respond, bracing yourself for the moment. But it never comes. You look at Robin--a bold choice to make while she was in this headspace. 

“Go on. Say it.” Robin stared back at you. You let out a whine, resisting the urge to move your hips backwards, knowing that would land you in hotter waters. It made it worse that you knew what she wanted to hear out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry…” You mumbled, letting out a frustrated whine. You were only met back with another spank, one that would definitely leave a mark on your rear for a while.

“What are you sorry for?” Robin mused, her hand ghosting the skin of your other cheek. 

“I’m sorry… for almost falling into the ocean.”

“Why are you sorry for that?”

“Because I almost died trying to get my book from the crow’s nest when I could’ve just asked you for help.” You felt like a kid again, being scolded for doing something bad and now have to apologize for it. But instead of your apology being ignored and unheard, Robin let out a pleased chuckle, leaning over to kiss your cheek, and without warning, she pushed it in. 

Robin never liked being mean to you; she was the type to pepper you and treat you like a princess, even though you would be on your knees, hands tied behind your back as her hand raked through your hair.

“Good girl.” Robin muttered, the sounds of your moans and yelps making her move faster. Thank God Franky had soundproof your room weeks ago, otherwise your moans alone would have woken everyone up. The pressure of the dildo's fat head is incredible; you could feel the way your pussy willingly gives way to the unyielding silicon, and it reminded you of the first time you had ever met the end of a strap-on Robin wore. Robin was unyielding, not breaking a single sweat, while you were a moaning and babbling mess, head buried in the pillow, unable to move. All you could focus on was your pussy getting stretched by every thrust Robin made, hollowing you out before filling you again, and again, and again. Every drag of the silicon cock inside of you made you a liquid mess perfect for Robin to mold and restructure, as her skin slapped against your thighs, lighting a spark behind your half lidded eyes everytime you could hear a slap.

It didn’t take long for Robin to bring you over the edge, giving you a ‘go ahead’ as pleasure fills your body. If Robin wasn’t holding you up by your arms, you would’ve collapsed and probably passed out from the amount of pleasure coursing through your body. You let out a pathetic whine as Robin carefully pulls out of you, creating several hands to undo the strap-on and grab a towel from the drawers.

Robin undid your binds, rubbing small circles on your wrist as she pulled your body into a sitting position, letting you lean against her for support. She wiped away any remaining slick or saliva from your face with a thumb, before shoving it into your mouth. You happily swallowed it all, before melting into Robin’s touch. She wrapped you with a towel, cradling you like you were an infant.

“Did so good for me, my little brat.” Robin cooed, planting soft kisses all over your face. “All it took was a cock in your cunt to get you to apologize.”

“I‘m sorry…” You mumbled.

“Shh.. shh… none of that, darling.” Robin kissed your forehead. “Just remember you can always ask for my help, no matter what. And if you forget, I’ll always be there to remind you, no matter how hard you need me to drill it into you. Figuratively and literally. How about I draw you a nice warm bath, and have Sanji cook you your favorite snack, and we can cuddle as I read you a story?”

A sleepy smile formed on your face as you nodded your head, pressing your lips against Robin’s collarbone. 

[clock-06]

Some more PM thoughts cause they’re rattling round my brain at hyper speed now that people know about them

PM! Ford and Canon Bill would fucking destroy the universe fighting each other. Battle of two giant egos. There would be homosexual overtones of course, but they both have a craving for power and enough power to leave a trail of destruction anywhere they interacted

Canon Ford would be very weirded out and like? Not scared but primal instinct of wrong about PM!Bill, who is nice to him off the bat. c!Ford would bring up weirdmaggedon and trickery and PM!Bill would just be like “oh yeah. I was gonna do that, but I’ve honestly had a lot of fun with my Ford just traveling dimensions and helping him research. I may get back to that eventually” and c!Ford is dumbstruck and suffering from emotional whiplash. Eventually neither of them would really talk to each other and sit in silence.

c!Bill thinks PM!Bill is pathetic and a failure, and by his standards, he is technically right in both of those opinions. PM!Bill thinks c!Bill is an idiot for sabotaging the one good thing he had, but is very light around the topic. It’s very c!Bill as a kind of annoyed as fuck third wheel. He holds a lot of hate for both PM!Bill and PM!Ford, mainly hating the latter for not being the Ford of his universe, as he loves the violence and lust for power PM!Ford holds (he’d never admit it out loud though).

c!Ford is convinced PM!Ford is possessed by Bill somehow. Convinced there’s no way any route could lead to him acting like that, or be that successful. Basically 100% sure that PM!Ford sold his soul in a deal with Bill and being soulless is why he’s like that.

PM!Ford and PM!Bill have a lot of deals laid out, most of which are for Ford’s benefit and a few at Bill’s deficit (but he’s too in love to realize that). They are technically married, moreso in the legal contract sense than a ceremonial sense. Ford spurred this on, getting Bill enamored with the idea of them being together forever and explaining the human tradition of marriage in a mostly accurate way. They have matching rings, gold with a triangle surrounding a circular gem (probably something rarer than diamonds that they found while traveling) and Bill’s acts as a binding magical artifact while Ford’s is entirely mundane. Bill is unaware of the effects of his ring, and probably wouldn’t take it off knowing them (y’all don’t get to know yet sorry).

Ford can defend himself pretty well due to his tech as well as some physical enhancements from deals with Bill, so he does go on solo missions without Bill, especially if it’s to keep Bill in his loyal arsenal. A few characters try to join them, and they even have a run in with the axolotl (who is mainly concerned for Bill and despises Ford), but Bill and Ford are a very exclusive duo and the intentionally created co-dependency means no one travels with them for long. There is a point where they run into Fiddleford for reasons it’s….. gonna be fun to write and draw let’s just say that.

Ford does come back through the portal after 30 years, mainly because through Bill’s surveillance, he’s been gaining interest in this generation of pines twins, especially Dipper’s potential as a researcher.

And that’s where I’m gonna leave my infodumping for now because my lunch is ready and I have to get my mail

<3 toxic old man triangle yaoi keeps me awake at night

[belovedwhore]

pretty boy pt 5

ethan landry x reader

warnings: smut, little bit of plot, “nipple play”, masturbation (m!receiving), dirty talk, thigh riding, lowkey sub ethan

notes: oh my god hey guys. i’m sorry i’ve been mia, it’s been a long week but i cracked this bad boy out for y’all so hopefully you enjoy it, i’m too tired to proofread so i apologize for any typos. i tried to lessen the amount of plot and get to the good stuff ;)

also i think the next part will be my last for this series because i wanna write other like pov of ethan in different scenarios so im gonna try to wrap this up. enjoy!!

pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5, pt 6

————————————————————————

for the next couple of days you and than found anytime to hang out. whether you were skipping class or making tara and chad hang out so you could spend your time with ethan, you made it happen. every since he gave you head the last time, it’s like he can’t stop. he was quite literally pussy whipped for you, the way you moaned out as he devoured your clit, the endless praises you’d give him, calling him pretty boy, he didn’t said a chance. it got to the point where he could get himself off grinding on the bed with his head in between your legs, attacking your cunt. he’d groan when you’d slip your fingers through his curls, gripping his hair as you came closer to your unraveling.

chad had left to go the gym and afterwards he had class so he wouldn’t be back until much later. you came over shortly after he left to hang out with ethan. it wasn’t just sex, you enjoyed his company too but god the sex was good. well not “sex” by definition. you hadn’t fucked yet, and he hadn’t really complained about it. even thought you’ve been with each other in every possible way he still shyed away at the deed. he was just simply happy to be involved in any way which somehow made him even hotter.

you came over in a pair of baggy sweats and an oversized, just some stuff you pulled out of your closet, ‘easy to get out of’ pieces. you laid next to ethan on the couch as he sat watching a lecture and jotting down notes. he was wearing some athletic shorts and a tshirt with a random logo on it. you guys may or may not have skipped some classes to be able to hang out with each other without the rest of your friends in close proximity. and may or may not be required to watch these online lectures for review.

“do we reallyyy need to watch this ethan, i’m bored,” you whined kissing up his neck. you couldn’t care less about biology 101. i mean who gives a fuck.

“we missed class, we have to do this,” he replied shifting in his seat as you still trailed kisses over his chest. he struggled to focus on the video when he felt your lips on his skin. he loved kissing, his biggest turn on you learned. he’d always kiss you whether you just came on his tongue or swallowed a load of his. he was addicted to your lips. and the way he looked after a long kiss, lips soft and plump waiting for more. he was struggling to resist you now, eyes fluttering shut.

“i mean technically only one of us needs to be paying attention,” you whispered into her ear. you nibbled his earlobe playfully as you continued to tease him. you could see he processing what you said.

“you’re not w-wrong,” he faltered as your hands traveled under his shirt over the ridges on his stomach, “but i can’t focus when you’re kissing me and touching me.”

“ok, then i won’t,” you shrugged sitting back into your spot.

he quietly groaned at the absence of your lips and touch on his skin, “the thing’s almost over, then i’m all yours.” he leaned over and kissed you softly, lips molding together as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth lightly before pulling away. he hadn’t even realized this just spurred you on modern but he’d readjusted timely, refocusing on the video before him. you sighed loudly next to him, slightly exaggerating to draw his attention. he wouldn’t budge though, smiling in your direction, still working on you guys’ notes.

“i’ll be right back,” you quipped before hopping off the couch to head to the bathroom. you couldn’t watch this boring ass lecture any longer and you couldn’t stop thinking about ethan. you eventually decided to take matters into your own hands. before leaving the bathroom you took off your sweatpants, revealing your black panties that hugged your waist under your shirt. you walked back into the room, noticing his eyes on you from the second you walked in.

“where um where are your pants,” he asked dumbfounded. you’d broken his focus from your assignment.

“it’s a little warm in here,” you shrugged sitting down right next to him swinging one of your legs over his own, spreading then so lightly to expose your clothed core. he glanced down quickly before looking up again clenching his jaw.

you reached between your legs, circling your clothed clit. you let out a sharp breath as you brushed the bundle of nerves. you reached to palm one of your tits over your shirt, kneading the mound. the stimulation was enough for you to let out another gasp as you played with your nipple. your shirt tickled your hardened nipples sending shocks to your core. you breath grew heavier as you sped up your fingers on your clit, closing your eyes as you felt your panties grow wet with your arousal.

ethan couldn’t take it any longer, he let out a huff, “fuck.” shutting off the tv and tossing the remote somewhere in the room he embraced you quickly. he kissed you roughly, holding your face to his forcing his tongue into your mouth. he’d almost sucked all the breath out of you. you climbed over his lap, pressing your wet center onto his growing erection. he bucked his hips as you grinded on him, kissing his neck softly. he could feel your arousal through your panties. you felt his hands creep up your legs, groping your ass under your shirt. they soon moved to your thighs, and closer to your center until you stopped him.

“no, you had your chance and you wanted me to wait,” you said after pulling away from the kiss, “remember only one of us has to be focused.” you shifted your position so you were now only straddling one of his legs, his bare thigh directly under your mound.

“cmon you know we have to catch up on this class, i’m ready now,” he pleaded, looking down between the two of you at your cunt glistening with arousal. you pulled your top over your head exposing your bare chest to him. your hardened nipples poked out massively, erect from the stimulation. you brought his hands to your chest and he kneaded your boobs, capturing your nipple in his mouth. he nibbles on the bud, soothing the pain with licks over the mound.

“so i’m gonna focus on me,” you whispered into his ear as you lowered yourself onto his thigh, gasping at the feeling of your clit on his sculpted thigh, “a-and you can watch, but no touching.” you moved his hands away from your chest and placed them by his side. he looked at you in awe as you started to move back and forth on his thigh, your arousal slicking his skin. you played with your clit as you rocked your hips on his leg, feeling the pressure build in your core.

honestly ethan may have been enjoying this more than you, his breath hiked with your own. the feeling of your cunt on his thigh made him rock hard. when he flexed you could feel his muscle massaging you core, causing you to whine out and move faster. his eyes were trained on your cunt moving back and forth, breathing heavy. you wanted more from him, needed more.

“l-look at me,” you cooed, he looked at you, watching as your eyes screwed shut at the feeling of his bare skin between your folds, “you know what i want you to do.”

“touch yourself,” you said, “i wanna see you fuck your hand, and i want you to think about me.”

you kissed him harshly, biting his lip as you pulled away and rested your forehead against, “can you do that pretty boy?” he nodded as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and began to pump his length. his tip had already been oozing precum as it glistened under his touch. you spat between the two of you, your saliva falling onto his cock, lubricating it as he pumped faster, tightening his grip around his length. you followed his rhythm. as he fucked his length faster, you rode his thigh harder, coming closer and closer to your orgasm.

“what does it feel like baby,” you asked breathlessly while you relentlessly fucked yourself on his leg.

“tight,” he groaned, looking down at your cunt gliding across his thigh, “and wet.” he whimpered as he jerked on his cock harder. “y-you wanna know how you feels,” you moaned, “hard.” he groaned as you described your feelings to him explicitly. “feels like i’m gonna cum all over you any s-second, fuck.”

you could hear your slick on his skin, along with the noises of ethan fisting his cock and it sent you over the edge. eyes screwed shut you gasped as you released your arousal all over. you clenched around his leg, riding his thigh through your finish. rambling about how good he felt and how good he was listening to your instructions, “ethan y-you’re so good, so good for me.” you opened your eyes only to find he hadn’t finished yet, he was still jerking himself off, eyes on your cunt. you could tell he was close as his hips bucked into his fist and his breathing became sloppy.

“you know what i thought of while i came all over you,” you whispered as you wetly kissed all around his neck, “your cock inside me, big, stretching me all out.” he groaned at your words, increasing his pace even more to reach his orgasm.

his eyes were screwed shut now, focused on cumming. he hummed as you spurred him on with your dirty words, teasing and taunting him, “imagine my cunt wrapped around your pretty cock,” you spoke, “can you feel me?”

“mhmm,” he whimpered, “oh shit.” his orgasm ripped through him as he came hard into his hand and onto your stomach. he shuddered underneath you, jaw clenched as he experienced his high. he’d never felt anything like it. he felt weak, breathing heavy as you sat smiling at him, looking at the mess the two of you made. you kissed him softly, tangling your fingers in curly hair.

“can’t wait until you fuck me pretty boy,” you giggled into his ear. when you pulled away ethan was bright red, still shy of your bluntness. regaining his composure he realized, “we’re uh- we’re gonna need to clean up before chad gets back.”

“ok, but chad won’t be back anytime soon,” you bet, “it hasn’t been that long.”

seconds later you heard three knocks on the door.

“ethan, i forgot my keys again can you let me in?,” chad yelled.

“oh i guess it has been that long,”

“oh shit”

[00127am]

signed with love and forever yours, doyoung

postage. kim doyoung & gn! reader, mentions of kissing cost to ship. 543 words

i'll miss you today. and i'll miss you tomorrow. and every second we spend apart. every second which your attention is not focused solely on me. every moment in which i miss the heat of your gaze and the flutter of my heart from your continued consideration. i'll miss it all, even the way my mouth runs dry and the feeling as if i've been pushed straight off a foothold. teetering and wavering upon my crumbling composure--one that never seems to last long when i'm in front of you.

a composure that splintered long before any hallmark of our relationship. and before the first time you kissed me. a kiss that remains imprinted in my mind, like a stain you just can't get out. sentenced to suffocating my every thought and beat of my heart with nothing more than a lingering presence and drawl of cherry red. the same cherry red that flashes before my eyes each time i replay that kiss, the same one (like all the others) that makes me feel winded. as if i had just fallen flat onto my back and had the breath knocked straight out of my lungs. the thought that these kisses may last forever wind me more-so than any singular kiss of yours.

have i mentioned that i love you? and miss you. yesterday. today. tomorrow. next week. forever. i will love you for the rest of what is conventionally my lifetime. and more so after that. until the universe is fractured into a billion pieces and silence lays upon every bit of space. and even then, in what is considered to be the end of life, i will still love you. and miss you. and need you.

and i'll still find time to replay that kiss. the same one that knocks the breath out of my lungs and stains my heart in cherry red.

about doyoung's love letters.

doyoung writes in familiar, formal script with long, looping syllables and perfected punctuation. recognizable as the type of cursive you learned in primary, as if it had been copied and pasted in a refined recollection and rendition from the original practice booklets themselves. his letters are often short but filled with such genuine longing and affection that you feel as if they may go on forever (or at the very least, you wish they did).

most of the letters you receive are written on napkins. a trend which began with a spur of the moment explosion of his feelings when he was out drinking and has now become something more of tradition. he complains about it often, how unromantic it is to be writing all of his affections onto a napkin of all things and yet he has a stack by his desk--knowing that every time he uses one, you're reminded of his first letter written and hand delivered to you.

when you do read these letters, you're far from any semblance of composure. nothing more than the envelope makes you flush and sends your heart beating four times as fast. for you know that his letters, like him, although they are often brief hold every ounce of adoration that he feels. an adoration that you're sure will outlive the both of you and one only surpassed by your own.

your mailbox

taglist. @evilsailorsenshi @ikozen @firstdonutllamafarm @trourevaille @222brainrot @marvelous-llama thank you for supporting me! ♡

note. this is very inspired by alex turner's love letter to alexa chung! i highly recommend giving that a read if you like any of my love letters since it (and he) has defined what it means to show love for me for a very long time!

🧾 © 00127am 2024

[am-i-interrupting]

Imagine Vox with an anarchist or communist reader. Because I imagine he falls first, and the reader just hates his guts because he is quite literally the embodiment of capitalism. I just think it'd be really fucking funny. Lol.

If you like what I’m doing consider tipping me for priority requests & access to characters I don’t usually write for such as Charlie, Valentino, Carmilla, and more.

Vox has a tendency. That tendency was pointed out by Valentino as the moth laughed in his face.

He has a tendency to fixate in people who want nothing to do with him at best and want to kill him at worst.

You were probably friends with Cherri Bomb and being friends with Cherri means being friends with Angel.

You met Vox face to face when you were picking Angel up from set as he couldn’t even stand but needed to leave.

Vox tried to introduce himself but you walked right past him, flipping him the finger.

Your hard expression went soft when you helped Angel up to his feet and let him lean all of his weight on you but it immediately fell into a glare when you saw Vox.

You left. Vox watched you drag Angel to your home but that is where his ability to spy on you ended. You had no Voxtech in your house which only spurred his curiosity about you.

Not even a week later his warehouse for his cameras (specifically cameras used for directing) went up in flames. He saw you coming out of the smoke.

That’s when he decided to sit down and have a talk with you.

It ended with you spitting literal fire his way along with curses and him being even more intrigued.

The time since Alastor had disappeared had been boring.

Adding a new rival in his life was exactly what he needed.

Thus began your little feud.

It wasn’t ever anything truly filled with hate on his side.

You’d blow up one of his buildings. He’d steal you away for a chat afterwards. You’d curse him out. He’d put on a big man act. That was that.

The first time you truly hurt him he was shocked but it was his fault.

He was doing the big man act, threatening to make your life hell but you were already there and nothing he could take would be worth keeping anyway. That is until he uttered Angel’s name.

You moved so quick he didn’t have time to process. His computers behind him went up in flames, equipment went everywhere, and you were standing in front of him with a knife at his throat.

“I’ve only sparred you so far because I don’t have the shit to start a war with three overlords right now but touch Angel and I may be going down but you can bet your ass that I will take you down with me. Do we understand each other?”

Stupidly, so stupidly, that was the moment Vox realized he was falling in love.

You stayed quiet for a while but he knew where you were. He watched you.

He watched you and as he saw your acts of kindness to a select few and your hostility towards just about everyone else, he slowly began to fall in love.

It was when you were at a club with Cherri and Angel, out on the dance floor and then pulling a demon into a sex room as he watched when he couldn’t keep it in anymore.

It was stupid.

So stupid.

Doing something similar is what ruined his relationship with Alastor and got him stuck in this cycle with Valentino but he was a man of habit even if he pretended otherwise.

He materialized in the room behind you and tutted.

“Thought you would get lucky tonight?” Vox asked the demon. “Don’t you know luck rarely sided with a gambler?”

Maybe that line was a bit personal and he threw the demon out of the room with more force than he normally would have but hey, it’s Vox. The demon’s lucky they weren’t killed.

“The fuck are you doing?!” “Red light if you want me to stop.” “What?!”

He shoved you against the wall.

“Red light if you want me to stop.”

The next time one of Vox’s buildings went up in smoke, the fire was green.

If you like what I’m doing consider commissioning me for canon/canon stories AND personalized canon/reader stories.