#BUT AFTER SO LONG OF THAT FEELING YOU HAVE TO COME TO THE CONCLUSION THAT THERE IS NOT GOING TO MAGICALLY BE A DAY WHERE YOU FEEL

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part four

part five: i was hoping you'd be there

Robin managed to keep her shit together for approximately ten minutes after she stopped watching Steve make his way through security and into the depths of the airport. In the ride back to Steve's place, her leg was shaking so much Nancy discreetly grabbed Robin's pinky and held it in the back of the car.

The rest of the trafficky route back to Steve's all Robin could think about was how to fix things. She knew Steve didn't tell her about Eddie so she could fix things and Steve didn't run off to Italy to hide from everything but the situation still bothered Robin. She hadn't known Eddie for a terribly long time but he made her dingus happy so she held him in relatively high regard. It didn't make sense for him to just cut tail and run without leaving some sort of door open for a resolution and Robin was going to her darndest to figure out how on earth she could find that crack.

When they got back to Steve's apartment, Nancy didn't let Robin go long without asking for an explanation.

"Robs, babe, what is going on?" Nancy asked.

"I need to figure out how to solve Steve and Eddie." Robin answered.

"I don't think Steve wants you too. He seemed pretty resolved to close that chapter." Nancy urged.

"I know what he said but that's not what he wants. Also Eddie is a huge dummy if he doesn't realize how good he had it with Steve and also that Steve would never cheat on anyone. Especially not after y'all's whole thing. No offense." Robin continued.

"Okay so we aren't letting this go. What's the plan?" Nancy asked.

"Thanks for your support, love. I just can't figure out why Eddie jumped to the conclusion that you and Steve were together again. I mean no offense but like that ship very publicly sailed," Robin said.

"I'm trying really hard not to take offense but the more often you say it the more I am having trouble not being offended," Nancy snarked.

"Sorry, dingus wormed his way into my little heart long before you so I still gotta give you shit over soulmate solidarity. But back to the matter at hand. Eddie only assumed you would only be visiting Steve if you were trying to get back together when really you were coming to see little old me. So what if I came out. Like what if we came out? And shared some of the pictures from like super early on and thanked Steve for being a great friend for many years when I wasn't ready to take that step," Robin knew she was rambling but, hell, she was on a roll.

"Are you ready for that? I'm happy to take your lead on all this. It's not like we haven't already told everyone who is actually important to us. I mostly write freelance nowadays anyways so there isn't really some big bag corporate overlord I need to worry about. You know Steve doesn't need you to do this? It's one thing if you're ready to come out on your own, it's a whole different thing to do it for someone else," Nancy counseled.

"I really think I'm ready. I'm sick of Steve feeling like he needs to come to everything with me and you're stateside a lot more often and I'd love to go out on dates without the next day having like a million articles speculate if you're trying to move in on Steve. I think it's time," Robin rationalized.

"All right, then. We're doing this. Should we use this as an excuse to make Jon take cute couple pictures of us?" Nancy giggled a little at her suggestion.

"Yes! Perfect. Get him over here. Operation Save Dingus from his Self Sacrifice is a go!" Robin jumped up on the couch to make her point and Nancy immediately had to come to her aid as she wobbled enough to lose her balance.

Robin was excited. She was ready for the next step with Nancy and if it helped Steve get out of his own head and/or convinced a certain metalhead with very few remaining braincells to get his head out of his ass then so be it. Robin couldn't wait to think of all the sappy shit Nancy would pretend to be annoyed at she'd be able to do now. Steve would be back in a few weeks so Robin anxiously awaited Jon's response and started several caption ideas in her notes app.

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy @grtwdsmwhr @dreamercec @anne-bennett-cosplayer @strawberryyyenthusiast @mensch-anthropos-human @kal-ology @ttyrussss @kristmkris @starman-jpg @wonderland-girl143-blog @child-of-cthulhu @legalmenace87 (if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

it's not quite fixed yet but we are getting so close!!!

#steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie #don't worry robin will fix it #angst #angst with a happy ending #rockstar eddie #actor steve #was it over then ficlet

[mingyuscoffee]

kim mingyu ᯓᡣ𐭩 best friend to lovers

bestfriend!mingyu who never leaves your side when you’re hanging out your mutual friends.

bestfriend!mingyu who watches you drink with chan and soonyoung; he’s talking to jeonghan and seokmin but occasionally stealing glances at you to make sure you don’t drink too much.

bestfriend!mingyu who later checks the time and stands up, pulling you up and away from the table with shots lined up to prevent you from taking any more.

bestfriend!mingyu bidding all your friends goodbye so he can take you back to your house, loving the way everyone already trusts him to take you home safely.

bestfriend!mingyu who unlocks your front door without assistance, knowing the way around your house.

bestfriend!mingyu who gets you ready for bed, only going to wash up after you’re fast asleep in your bedroom, then ending his night by crashing in your guest bedroom.

bestfriend!mingyu who is already cooking breakfast in your kitchen like he lives there, smiling brightly later when you compliment the food.

bestfriend!mingyu who seems very curious when you bring up a blind date that seungkwan has set you up on later that day.

bestfriend!mingyu who bitterly replies to you while you prepare for your blind date, giving you puppy eyes to cancel and spend the night hanging out with him instead.

bestfriend!mingyu who pouts when you still put on your shoes but nonetheless reminds you to call him later if anything happens.

bestfriend!mingyu who immediately goes to pick you up when you text him that the date wasn’t going well, driving you to his house without having to ask.

bestfriend!mingyu who hands you his oversized clothes and lets you shower while he brings out soju bottles and sets up your favorite comfort movie to watch because you looked stressed.

bestfriend!mingyu who drowns the nth shot of soju during the night, listening to you ramble about everything that went wrong with the date, before you come to the conclusion that you’re going to be single forever.

“but i can treat you better,” he interrupts your rant, turning his body to face you completely, “why not just date me instead?”

bestfriend!mingyu who is now staring at you intensely, making you turn red; it’s probably from the alcohol and his hot living room but his windows are perfectly open.

bestfriend!mingyu who pauses the movie and pulls you closer to him, staring at your lips and waits for you to make the first move because he doesn’t want to think it’s all in his head.

bestfriend!mingyu who is stunned when you really kiss him, trying to see if he was dreaming or not.

bestfriend!mingyu who smiles brightly when you confess your hidden feelings, a bit sad when he hears how long you’ve liked him and thought it was hopeless.

bestfriend!mingyu who confesses his feelings, teasing you for not picking up on his subtle attempts at flirting or trying to hangout with you alone every chance he got.

boyfriend!mingyu who asks you to stay the night in his bed, finally getting to cuddle with you.

boyfriend!mingyu who wakes up with his heart racing because the love of his life is sleeping next to him.

#seventeen #svt #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen oneshots #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #mingyu fanfiction #mingyu imagine #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu oneshots #mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #svt fanfiction #svt x reader

[iridescentpull]

Day two of Hideduo/FitPac Kiss Week – Kiss on the Forehead & Murder Mystery AU

[ ao3 link here ] [ fic below cut! ]

Fit’s never been this interested by someone before.

This detective– Pac, as he introduced himself all those weeks ago at Spreen’s funeral– is very intriguing. While all the other detectives who visited him after the ‘mysterious’ death of his late husband jumped straight into the investigation and questioning process, detective Pac seems to be going much slower, taking in the situation and his surroundings.

He asks about his thoughts and feelings on the events that had occurred and how he’s coping. He’s gentle with Ramón when it’s time to question the child and doesn’t get annoyed or snappy with the little boy when his answers are a bit incoherent. He doesn’t jump to any conclusions and takes everything said with a grain of salt, considering it from every perspective and not just assuming the truth.

It’s... a very nice change of pace, to be completely honest. One Fit is absolutely taking advantage of, considering the circumstances.

Plus, the detective is very, very, attractive. Long, black hair pulled back. Dark eyes that seemed to shine with the light. A lean yet muscley body. His suits were always tailored perfectly and he always smelled like roses. The bonus was how flustered he got every time he saw the dresses Fit wore, stuttering and trying to advert his eyes the moment his eyes landed on him.

Fit smiles lazily, spinning the wine inside his glass with a small twirl of his wrist, letting the alcohol slosh against the edges of the glass as he leans back against the plush, leather sofa. The dress he’s wearing today is a deep, dark red. The same shade as the wine in his glass and the blood that was spilled (not that anyone needs to know that part, though).

And, while his current attire is quite revealing, it’s modest compared to the last few times the detective had visited. The neckline was still low and showed off a generous amount of his chest, but the skirt was much longer and went down past his knees, a slit coming up the side to his thigh. He’s not even wearing heels today, and the stockings he’s wearing only come up to his thighs.

“So.” Fit speaks, voice silky smooth as usual. “You’re saying someone must have not disposed of the body? That my husband’s body might still be here?”

Pac’s face flushes and his eyes dart away, trying to avoid looking at Fit. His fingers drum against the notebook in his lap, filled with his messy scribbles of the conversation and notes. His own glass of wine sits next to him, empty.

“I– I wouldn’t say ‘still here’.” Pac stutters, fidgeting with one of his finger’s of his gloved hand. “The body may have been disposed of, just not properly. If someone didn’t do the job right, then the body would be somewhere around here.”

Fit hums, raising an eyebrow as he crosses his legs, the fabric of the dress bunching up around his thighs. He takes a long sip of his wine, making sure the detective is looking as he licks his lipstick-covered lips. “That’s quite a theory.” He says.

The other male nods. “Well, yeah, but it’s the only one that makes sense. There’s a record of a missing body, but there’s no way the body could have been taken out of the neighborhood without anyone noticing.” He speaks, frowning as he thinks. “The police have been strict in this area thanks to the murders that have happened recently, as you know, so if the body were taken out, then they would have noticed and caught whoever was trying to take it.”

“Yes, the police have been quite diligent since all these murders have been occurring.” He says, putting his glass out and leaning forward. “More wine, detective?”

Pac glances at the glass and bites his lip, thinking. After a moment, he sighs and holds his glass out. “If you don’t mind, thank you.”

The American takes the bottle of wine and pours the other man some, smiling at him as he sits back and takes another sip. Pac gives him a grateful nod and takes a sip as well, savoring the taste of the drink. They keep talking and drinking as the night progresses, the atmosphere getting more relaxed.

After a few glasses of wine, Pac is a little tipsy, yet he finally is comfortable enough to have a real conversation. The detective is leaning against the armrest, head propped up by his hand. Fit’s sitting a bit more comfortable now, having taken off his shoes and is resting his feet in the detective’s lap, who doesn’t seem to mind.

“You know, Fit, you’ve really got me thinking.” Pac says, frowning a little as he thinks.

Fit stares at the expression, entranced. “Really?” He purrs, reaching out and brushing his fingers against the other’s stubbled jaw. Pac stiffens a bit but doesn’t pull away, looking down at the hand before glancing back up at the others face with an eager look in his eyes. “What’s got you so deep in thought, detective?”

The detective hesitates a moment before replying. “You, actually.”

The widow smiles, pleased. “Is that so? What about me is on your mind?” He asks, running his fingers up to the detective’s hair, twirling a few strands.

“You– you’re just very mysterious.” Pac replies, licking his lips as he shifts. “I know next to nothing about you, past the basics and what is needed for the case. Even though I’ve come over every other day, I feel like I barely know you.”

The American tilts his head, eyes glittering. “Oh? Would you like to know more about me, detective?”

Pac blinks before his face flushes again, his cheeks a pretty pink. “Well– I, I mean, yeah. That’d be nice.” He stutters out, eyes widening as Fit leans even closer.

“I could tell you everything about me.” Fit whispers, breath fanning across Pac’s lips. “But, I’m afraid you might not like what you’ll find, Pac.”

The Brazilian frowns, confused. “Why would I not–” He cuts himself once he realizes how close their lips are, Fit’s body hovering above his own. He feels his heart start to race, the beat quickening the longer he stays silent.

Fit’s about to press a kiss against the other’s lips when Pac moves his head down at the last second, causing the other to press a kiss against his forehead. Pac’s eyes are wide and his breathing is heavy, chest heaving up and down as he tries to process what just happened. He doesn’t seem to be the only one, for Fit has a stunned look on his face.

“Pac...?” Fit asks, a little uncertain.

The detective looks up and stares at the other, conflict in his face. “No, sorry, I– it's not you.” He says, pushing the other away gently and standing. “I just– not like this, at least.”

He stands up, stumbling a little, and starts towards the door, only to be stopped by Fit grabbing his arm. He turns around, surprised, and watches as Fit pulls him down, their faces a few inches apart. “I– I should go, Fit.” Pac stutters, averting his eyes. “I’ve stayed here for too long.” He says, pulling away.

Fit lets him go this time, and Pac takes the chance to leave. He walks out the door and down the hall, only turning around when he gets to the staircase. Pac stops, staring at the figure of Fit standing in the doorway, before taking a deep breath and hurrying down the stairs.

As the detective leaves, Fit holds his chin, a curious look on his face. Oh, he’s very intrigued now. Pac was pulling away but his eyes told a completely different story. Eagerness, conflict, desire… Fit smirks, chuckling to himself as he closes the door.

“What have you found, my dear detective.” He tells himself. “What have you found…”

#qsmp #fitpac #pactw #fitmc #hideduokisswk #aynee writes #murder mystery au

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

TW: angst, uncomfortable situations, bdsm content, fire, blood

“What in God’s fucking name are you doing?” You ask yourself as you dig out the silky dress and golden bangles to wear tonight on this BDSM safari date. 

In theory, you know you absolutely cannot be Julian’s submissive. After a lot of googling, and a lot of video watching, the conclusion is that your smart, mindless mouth will have you bruised and crying more often than cumming, which sounds unpleasant (something you and your vagina can both agree on). It's not that the thought of his big hands swatting your rear as you lay over his broad lap is unappealing. In fact, you like that vision a lot. It’s the fact that he wants to do much more than spank you. Maybe that’s why he likes you, you realize, because you’re so bad at listening that he won’t need much of an excuse to fuck you up. 

Yeah, great thought to have before a date.

Your phone rings, and you’re not surprised anymore when you see Tom’s number pop up. He’s been calling almost twice a day now, that desperate ring cutting through your daily life so often that you have to keep the tone on silent most of the time. 

You suppose this is just his way of making sure you don’t forget about him while you’re taking back roads and long detours home to avoid his face. Ludlow scares you, but not in a way that Julian’s Mr. Hyde does. No, Tom’s fear factor is that you can’t go two seconds without thinking about him. 

The silky dress sits very nicely on your soft body, hugs and fans and dips in the right places. You can’t help but admire yourself in the mirror; hell, what’s a little bit of vanity every once in a while between you and your house plants? It’s not often that you feel good about yourself in the way the dress and the hairline bangles cinching your wrists make you feel. Eat your heart out, Julian.

Eat your heart out, Tom.

Julian looks good enough to eat, and you just might do exactly that before this night is over. You’re sure he can at least stay hard while you’re sucking the head of his beautiful cock (even without your arms tied behind your back), or you really hope so. I mean, you’ve never won any awards or anything, but the people pleaser in you has never had complaints, either. 

“You look wonderful.” He hands you a towering potted phalaenopsis orchid with a festoon of blooms so dark purple they’re almost black and leans down to kiss your warming cheek. You feel bad for the plastic wrapped flowers, so you ask him to come upstairs for a minute so you can settle them in their new home. 

“Wow, you love plants,” he muses, fingers playing at the waxy tip of your flourishing Queen of the Night cactus in the window.

“Well, I can’t have a cat or a lizard or snake or dog, so.” You give a tiny shrug, clipping off stems into the sink. 

“Snake?” He asks, leaning against the counter and watching you work. 

“Yeah, like a Ball Python or a Corn Snake.” 

“You just keep getting more fascinating, y/n.” You have your back turned, but can still feel his weighty stare, and it makes your skin crackle and pill, distracts you from the task at hand, causing the slippery scissors to veer and slice into your palm, glassy beads of blood forming at the base of the cut immediately.

“Shit,” you say, grabbing a towel from the counter and pressing it into the wound. 

Julian comes to your aid, a knight in shining armor ready to slay those dastardly scissors as he plucks them from you and tosses them onto the opposite counter. “Oh, darling.” He takes your sliced hand, uncovers it, blood immediately pooling into the basin of your palm and dribbling over the spillway of your wrist onto the kitchen tile. 

“Julian, it’s fine,” you tell him, trying to pull back half heartedly. 

“Wait.” The command of his tone makes your heart squeeze out a couple extra rivulets of blood for the floor. Black eyes travel up from your hand to your own, and you honestly have no idea why he is suddenly in this hellish mood again, but fuck, it really does do things for you that you can’t mention in chaste company 

“The floor is getting bloody.” You shift—more like squirm—under his shadow.

“What a waste. May I?” His eyes can’t decide what they want to look at—your crimson stained palm or equally if not more bloody face—and you forget that he asked a question as they hood and darken. 

He tugs you forward a tiny step, then kisses your fingertips, pokes his tongue out to lick at the sensitive skin there. “Y/n?” He murmurs against your pointer, inquisitive and, what? Hungry? Is that what you’re getting from him? 

“Huh?” 

“Can I taste you?” His lips tickle down your fingers, peck the top of your palm. 

Well, at least he’s not whipping your feet. “Yeah.” 

He presses the flat of his tongue against the fresh, oozing cut and licks a long stripe through the carnage. You have to grab onto him because your knees buckle and your vision swims black, but he’s got you anyway, arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up like you’re not made of heavy bone and fat and meat, protecting your pretty dress from that bloody floor. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, full Dr. Mercer mode again, lips still stained dark red, acting as if he didn’t just transform into a creature of the night before your very eyes. Your head and cunt throb in a strange, floaty numb tandem as you surface from the haze. 

You’re a nurse. You see blood all the time, get covered in it, have to scrub it out of your hair and from under your nails and use special laundry soap on your scrubs to avoid having to buy new ones every other day. That’s why you’re so confused as to why you almost passed out at the sight of Julian licking it off your palm in one of the most erotic displays you’ve ever witnessed in your measly life. 

Again? Asks your damp cunt. 

Hush, you admonish, ushering her back into her little broom closet chastity prison. 

“I’m fine.” You wonder why it took moving to LA to realize what a shit liar you are. And then, because you can’t really help asking with a giggle: “Are you a vampire?” 

He chuckles, fails in licking the settling red hue off his lips, and then guides you to sit on your sofa with the towel pressed against your palm. He gets you a cool rag from your bathroom, and presses it to your forehead. “Hold that there for me,” he instructs. “Where’s your first aid kit?” 

“Under the sink,” you thumb behind you. “But I’m fine, Julian.” 

He plucks a tiny kiss on your wrist. “You know, lying to me is bad for you.”

“Oh?” Your vagina asks, “and why is that, Doctor?” 

Julian is too easy. Sure, he prefers to have the upper hand, but as soon as you challenge him, he’s almost squirming with excitement. You wonder if you could make Tom squirm like that, see all the tough masculinity turn soft and peach pink with a well placed, “cuff me, Officer Ludlow.” 

“Because lying is naughty, and do you know what happens to naughty girls?” He leans in as if to kiss you. 

You lean right back, mouth open to taste your own thick residual copper on his sharp tongue, and sincerely hope the answer is they get fucked until they can’t walk. “Enlighten me?”

He boops your nose. “They don’t get kisses. Now, stay here.” 

You glare daggers at his cute butt as he makes to golden retrieve your first aid kit. 

“Thank you, Doctor.” Fuck me, Doctor. You bat your eyelashes at him while he cleans up your cut. It’s big, but surface level, warranting a tight wrap and no steri strips. 

You boldly brush the fallen, velvet hair from his eyes to see that toothy, knowing smile a little better.

“My pleasure.” 

“So…are you into that? Blood?” You’re not sure how else to word it or If there’s even an actual name for the act of eating blood for pleasure. Vladsexual? Bathory Kink? 

“That and other carnal taboos. I suppose I’m a bit of a roue.” 

“Okay, so what else?” 

“I don’t want to scare you.”  

“Too late, Julian.” You make it sound lighthearted, sugarcoat the truth, but if you’re going to get into this shouldn’t you know more about what he wants? 

“I won’t lie.” He looks at you, presses the finishing slice of tape over your gauze wrap. 

You retrieve your doctored hand to cradle on your ribs and maintain his gaze to the best of your ability. “I know.”

“I enjoy pain play. But that’s an umbrella term.” 

“Like hot wax? Caning?”

“Yes. You’ve done some research.” He seems like he’s thinking hard about how to word something, but there’s probably no eloquent way to put what he’s about to say. “Cutting. Piercing.” 

“What about infection?” 

“Aftercare, honey. You make sure it’s nice and clean. Do you want me to stop talking about this? You look paler again.” He rests his hand over yours. 

“It’s like you switch into someone else when these things.. come up? It scares me a little.”

He nods. “Part of the point would be to make you scared.” 

“That would help you?” 

It looks like he understands what you mean by that, and his face droops a little. Seems you’re both still thinking about that last disappointing date. “Yes.” 

“There are going to be people getting hurt at this club?” 

“Yes.” He cards a hand through his hair and it lays back perfectly where it once was. “There are other parts to it. Parts that are good. I would take responsibility away from you, make sure you eat nutritiously and often, give you a solid routine, pamper and spoil you.”

Why does that part sound worse than the getting cut and pierced bits? The thought of someone controlling your life, what you eat and do, it’s entirely unappealing. Maybe you’re a mess, but you like to be independent and free spirited. Tom was right about you wanting someone on your side, someone to take care of you and go to bat for you, but you’d still like to be on the field when it happens instead of tied up helplessly to the bench. 

You’re not saying anything, so he speaks up after a pause of tense silence. “We don’t have to go.”

“I know,” you say, “let’s leave before it gets too late.” 

***

You’ll be honest. You expected people on leashes scantily covered in leather, big medieval tower guards in hooded black cloaks, heavy metal equipment bolted to the walls and floor, maybe a stage with grandstand seats like in a fucked up little leather circus. 

However, the doors of the club are fairly normal, if not painted blood red. Dark, sultry, heavy bass music welcomes you as you walk inside. Most of the interior is classy, but unexpectedly underwhelming. The inside is carved marble, high ceilinged, low lit, tinged with dark red and purple lights. 

It reads like a vampy career fair. 

Banquet hall open floor, a pop up bar in the corner, booths and alcoves swollen with spectators dressed in bespoke club wear from Versace, Valentino, and Chanel. Some people choose to hide their identities with finely crafted leather masks. Some people chose to flaunt their faces openly, and you’re pretty sure you recognize at least one B level rockstar and maybe an actor from a distance.

The first thing you see as you go further inside is a man trussed in intricate rope, hanging from the ceiling. Not too bad. Actually, fairly tame, all of this. Well, more tame than the internet showed you. Mostly heavy bondage, maybe a nipple clamp thrown in here and there. Julian leads you to a carpeted venue with floor cushion seating in the far left corner and goes to retrieve some liquid courage. 

He hands you a wine glass of rosy, sweet liquor and you gulp it down immediately. 

“Slow down,” he says, squeezing your hand in reassurance. 

Instead of calming you, his bossy words incite annoyance. You’re a grown ass woman who needs alcohol to deal with something he wants you to attend, and you’ll be damned if you’re not going to drink as much numbing potion as you like. 

“I could actually use another one,” you tell him, standing and stretching. “Want some?” You eye his nursed, sipped from glass. 

He surprises you by handing you his credit card instead of arguing.  “No, thank you. Get as much as you like.” 

“Julian, I am not taking your card-“

You’ll never stop being surprised at how fast he can be. He’s so slow, thoughtful, calculated in his work that these sudden, long limbed movements startle you, especially when they bring him right against your body. 

He tucks his Chase back into your extended palm, frames your feet, and wraps a covering hand around your collar. “You are taking it.” 

The double entendre is not lost on you, and it brings that too often ache back into your toes and fingers and clit and every tip of your body, really. 

You want so horribly for his beautiful, cervix kissing cock to be inside you instead of swelling up against your tummy. And, you’ve never been a big fan of PDA, but, when in Venice…

You slip your hand between his hard and your soft, and palm that pretty trapped appendage, using your body to press and grind and get a better understanding of how deliciously he would fill you up.

Your power trip of the night is Julian groaning aloud, then halting this indecency and glaring down at you with a monstrous sneer. Before he can speak, you pipe up, soft and feminine, voice tinted with subtle hedonism. “Yes, Doctor.” 

You grab a mixed glass of vodka cranberry and take two extra shots courtesy of doctor money. Liquid courage. It's gonna be alright. Tell yourself that all you want, though, you still don’t feel completely safe here. Which is ridiculous because it’s an adult space with consenting people. Maybe it’s not your physical health you’re worried about so much, but rather your fragile psyche. 

When you get back with another shot and your mixed drink, the show has already started. You nestle down into the cushion beside Julian, and he scoots closer to press shoulders in what you think is an attempt at reassurance until he starts talking in your ear about the scene unfolding before you. 

“She’s bound to the chair with wool.”

“Wool? Why?”

“Fire resistant.”

Your heart slams faster against your ribcage, hands turn cool and clammy. 

“They have a wool blanket ready in case things go south.”

“Are they going to burn her?”

“Not seriously.”

What in the fuck is that supposed to mean? A burn is a burn, right? Whether first or second or third, it can still have detrimental effects on a person’s health. He’s a damn doctor, shouldn’t his years of medical training raise a hand to why this is potentially life threatening?

Despite the protest of your nervous system, you can’t look away. The man in the scene rubs something on her naked skin, in the middle of her chest, almost down to the hairless mound of her sex. “Isopropyl alcohol,” Julian says. He places his warm hand in the middle of your back like he’s trying to manually start your lungs back up. “Breathe.”

You do, let out a big whoosh of air and then take another in. The man lights a torch. 

“Fire torch,” Julian says, voice leagues deeper. His hand travels down, nuzzles into the small of your back and makes you let out a little noise that you’re grateful he can’t hear over the music and bustle of the club.

He presses the flame to her sternum, and she hisses, flinching away from the heat, from the flint that lingers on her skin. He extinguishes that same mini bonfire with his palm almost instantly, then creates more. The orange flame reflects on the tears of her cheeks, illuminates the fear in her blown pupils. 

Julian rubs little circles into your back, hips, grins when he hears you groan as his thumb slips up the hem of his dress. 

It goes on, and Julian has stopped explaining. Stopped moving those skilled fingers.  You’re confused, so you look over at him, and realize that you have not seen monstrous from this man yet—not until now. His handsome features are pulled in such an expression of raw, primal hunger, all for that woman’s pain.

You’ve seen that look on a man’s face before. It did not end well for you.

It’s that look on his face that gets you up on your feet, and you say in a voice you yourself hardly recognize, “I have to use the restroom.”

Julian looks disappointed, but he nods. When you’re confident that he’s not going to leap up and follow you, you make your way in said direction on shaking legs. However, once you round the corner out of sight, you are making a B-line for the exit, moving so quickly you almost stumble over your own feet, the desperate animal running through the woods, away from the hungry wolf. 

#tom ludlow x reader #street kings #keanuverse fic #keanuverse #julian mercer x reader

[soldier-poet-king]

I have wanted to wear crop tops during the summer for years and years and for so many reasons never felt like I could/should but y'know? Dammit this summer I am going to enjoy the sun and wear a fuckin crop top

Every single butch out there doing the lord's work inspiring my confidence and many of them with my body shape and I can dedicate myself to strength training because it's /fun/ and I want to see what I'm capable of and I like the feeling of power and who give a shit if I am still square and broad and sasquatchy and working out literally only ever bulks me up and never slims me in the slightest

#this is not like a logical conclusion perhaps #but i have been thinking sm about bodies!!! #and how i want to like mine #and if i cant like it for the way it looks i want to like it for what it can do #and im so into butches with my body type so why cant i be into me!!! fr!!! like!!! #anyway gonna really work the upper body to offset the hips and so i can CARRY LARGE ITEMS #plus core work is already what im doing for my hip misalignment #and im okay to add weighs as long as it doesnt hurt my joint #so!!! strong girl!!! farm??? coming to you summer 2024 #I LOVE THE SUN I DONT NEED TO HIDE MY BODY FROM IT #gym bros want what i have. rarely eats meat. builds muscle fairly easily #Idk man. like its not TONED muscle. but its EFFECTIVE #god i miss being strong #i am going to start tracking what i can lift #do an 8 week bodyweight to get back in general shape #and then proper lifting my beloved #the duality of fran #anyway u heard it here folks changing your everyday bra to sports and tank bras so u dont hate urself #literally mindset changing #also genuinely enjoy the stiff feeling the day after a workout. feels good. feels organic

[novadorks]

finally finished orv after two years . . . what do i do with my life now

#started in junior year hs dropped it for a while then started reading again at the start of this semester and now im finally done ! #dont know whether to cheer or just crumple up and start crying bc wow that was a ride #i thought the ending was tragic but then i moved on to the epilogue and oh my godd #the way kdj was crying and miserable bc he missed his companions and he wanted to be with them so Badly #but when kimcom finally Finally chase him down and come back to him theyre too late and hes already disspitated into other world lines #and after that like. whenever kdj pulls some shit and dies the next chapter always starts with an ‘i’ #and hes back and alive and kicking and Thinking but after that epilogue chapter there isnt a chapter in his pov theres no more ‘i’s and. #it just made me incredibly sad bc we dont get to see his pov ever again bc hes truly gone unless we as a reader can imagine him alive again #anyways sad things aside it is Incredibly funny that lee hyunsung just became a wanted man in the 1865th round lmaoo #+ uriel sun wukong and black flame dragon forming a band together ??? truly the most randomest thing in the epilogue #++ yoohankim need to stop beating the shit out of e/o and learn to talk their feelings out Please #+++ sooyoung’s love for dokja has me miserable o-|-< she would wait for him an eternity write for him an eternity im so sad #three times she endlessly wrote a novel for him to read three times she waited to see him for so long <//3 #you bet im imagining the happiest conclusion i can for them #they WILL live happily ever after in that big house together as long as i have something to say about it! #orv

[altruistic-meme]

*shaking violently* the reason you feel like shit is probably because your brain wants to be doing something but you are instead using it as a reason to continue not doing things. you have gotten yourself trapped in a terrible cycle that you refuse to take steps to break in the name of self-care and protecting yourself but all you are doing is causing yourself more harm. write a stupid story with no plot and bad characterization. draw a drawing with shaky lines and fuck up while coloring it in. try to figure out how to crochet something and stare in confused horror when the yarn starts pulling because you missed a stitch 3 rows back. failure sucks and it can maybe make you feel bad. but for the love of fuck please try to create something anyway even if it turns out terrible because you will never break free of this feeling if you don't start trying to. and who knows? maybe once you finish your stupid plushie with a sizeable dent in its head from that missed stitch, you will look at it's ugly face and smile because it looks terrible but it exists and it only exists because you made it.

#*DEEP AND AGGRESSIVE BREATHING* DEPRESSION IS A MOTHERFUCKING BITCH AND SHE SUCKS ASS #BUT YOU WILL NOT GET BETTER IF YOU DO NOT TRY TO GET BETTER #AND TRYING CAN SUCK TOO BC YOUR BRAIN IS IN SHUTDOWN AND DOING ANYTHING CAN FEEL LIKE WAY TOO MUCH #BUT AFTER SO LONG OF THAT FEELING YOU HAVE TO COME TO THE CONCLUSION THAT THERE IS NOT GOING TO MAGICALLY BE A DAY WHERE YOU FEEL #WELL ENOUGH TO DO SOMETHING #YOU KINDA HAVE TO DO IT EVEN WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE SHIT #OK? OKAY???? #YOU'LL BE ALRIGHT I PROMISE BUT YOU DO HAVE TO PUT IN THE EFFORT TO GET THERE. IT SUCKS. I WISH YOU DIDN'T BUT YOU DO. #SO PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK WRITE SOMETHING. DRAW. SEW. COLOR. GLUE. CROCHET. KNIT. FELT. IDK AND IDC JUST MAKE SOMETHING #shh ac

[floorpancakes]

now that i think about it this kind of counts for lore too. i love stuff where character and world lore is REALLY heavy and detailed, or its more stripped down but has all of the 'guiding points' where you can come up with those things yourself

i like creating that gap for myself or playing in the depths that were already created. my mind likes thinking of the making stuff up variety and it really bonds you to a piece of media

sometimes if the media is rly bad it can bond you to it out of spite by making you create an alternate timeline totally for yourself LOL but im more talking about the really good stuff

#case in point smth like genshin where they have rly heavy lore often in text form that you can kind of use as a basis to think abt stuff #especially cause often we dont get certain character interactions for years or months after they get added #laughs in chiscara and slams fist on floor ow the horrors #holic a good example cause the lore is rly rich but the storytelling is mostly emotional based rather than long lore rambles #and we dont see into everyones brains equally but often we see how they feel from gestures and can fill in the blank #with holic especially it feels like.... especially for characters like doumeki theres a creativity to it but ur still getting the point #like its highly intended it feels like a guided conclusion #but also it sets up stuff like roles and mental states so masterfully you can make headcanons in perpetuity that feel 'expected' #lots of my personal hcs come from that expert character setup that can merge well with personal ideas #i mean thats kinda what headcanons are anyways but its hard to explain? #but yeah strong character writing goes a looooong way and comes in many forms #ramblings

[jasonsthunderthighs]

I was on the phone with Tobin, talkin' bout how my great uncle died and how at his (Tobin’s) funeral, BEFORE, he's goin to tell EVERYBODY that I'm GOIN to say “Well, there goes a real sack of crap!” AT the funeral and to NOT get mad when I do say that

His words, “Mel’s threatened to say ‘there goes a real sack of crap!’ at the funeral, so DON'T get mad when they do!”

Followed by, “Can you IMAGINE how mad everybody would get after you said that?”

He's 53 and STILL ‘members the time I told him when he was in his 30s that I WAS GOIN TO SAY THAT WHEN HE DIES AT HIS FUNERAL

Like holy shit, this is one of the moments you KNOW that we're related

#that's a reference from The Simpsons that we would say ALL the time cause we had no wifi and would watch DVDs of whatever we had #and we had A LOT of The Simpsons DVDs (not the newer ones or the first two seasons cause we didn't really like those early episodes) #it was also cause Marge was SO annoyin in the first two seasons and would ONLY do that grumble noise SO annoyingly for NO damn reason #but yea #this is still a thing that I WILL fuckin do 😂 #just WAIT till my twin gets up there after I say that #THAT'S when it'll be hilarious #we're so mean to each other in a funny way #but I also still have mixed feelings for him and that's why I'm literally goin to say that even if it does cause shit in the remainin family #he thinks that his older (by 12 YEARS) brother is goin to be there (somehow alive) when he dies and I'm just questionin if he's goin to die #early or somehow before his brother dies when his brother is 65 right now and if Tobin plans to die at the age of 70 when he's 82 then- #that's fuckin nuts and hilarious that he doesn't understand maths like that #cause I don't think my uncle (his brother) wants to live till he's 82 or even in his 80s #but he's got a good 15 years to go (cause he's also REALLY healthy and not in Bad shape at all like Tobin is cause of his poor choices) #and I don't think Tobin wants to live another 15 years to only croak at 68 cause THAT'S young to die at #so this whole ramble in the tags of maths in shit is just a conclusion that his brother is definitely not goin to be at his funeral to hear- #me say that and I won't get in trouble by HIM but MAYBE my aunt who's 6 years YOUNGER than Tobin #BUT I DO WHAT I WANT AUNT FITTY AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME FROM SAYIN THAT WHEN THE TIME COMES #sorry for the long ramble #ramble in the tags #I need to shut up #Shut up G #not DC #not DC related #personal #personal post

[greenandbreathing]

uh oh having an unprompted camille of esharia fame moment!

#SHE MAKES ME HASHTAG CRAZAY #like girl! what do you even DO when your best friend loses her mother and doesn’t let you support her!!!!! #WHAT DO YOU DO when she isolates herself for the better part of the year and refuses to see anyone bc her heart is so unfathomably broken!! #and then you see her after all that time and she’s Better but u can tell she’s Irreparably changed #and ur happy that she is healing but you Also can’t help but resent her a little for shutting u out!!!!! #god. godddd #also i think. and this may be bc when this happened in game it was maybe my fifth dnd sesh Ever #i would have played maggy in the scene where they reunited SOOOO differently #she was too Happy. she should have spiralled more over seeing camille #in fact! she should have Avoided her at first i think! #because HOW do you not see the aforementioned best friend after such a long time of Purposefully avoiding her #and then just. be normal about it #and not feel overwhelmingly Bad about just. the fact that you’re in a room together for the first time since before your mom died #and ALSO #like. camille Having Emotions about maggy shutting her out is such a logical conclusion to come to that she Couldn’t just #ignore that knowledge yknow ? #their initial reunion was. less Meaningful than it could’ve been and i KNOW i was a baby at dnd then #but if i could go back and change One esharia scene it would be that one <3 #MAN. i sure haven’t thought about these girlies in a While i Miss them!!!!!! #maggy

[gojorgeous]

arranged marriage! gojo heacanons

pairing: gojo x fem!reader synopsis: just some headcanons about arranged marriage gojo! headcanons do follow a linear plot content: MDNI (18+ONLY), nsfw & sfw content, arranged marriage, p->v, oral (fem!receiving), pregnancy, breeding, not proofread because i'm lazy!!! a/n: i had a request to do a sort of expansion/sequel/prequel (?) on my business or pleasure fic, so... this is that. enjoy! and remember AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 2k (that's so much headcanon lmao)

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who reluctantly agrees to an arranged marriage when the clan decides it’s time to secure the lineage and make a new heir.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose jaw nearly drops when he sees you for the first time as you’re walking down the aisle. No way you’re that hot… 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s practically rocking on his feet waiting for the minister to give him permission to kiss you. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who drags said kiss on a little (a lot) longer than he needed to and spends the rest of the night wishing he’d dragged it on even longer.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s actually really pissed that there are so many damned guests at his wedding. All of them want to talk to him when all he really wants to do is talk to you!!! 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who only gets about three words into you the whole night and feels like pouting every time someone pulls him away from your arm. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finally relaxes a bit when the party’s over and he finally gets you alone. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who has a hard time keeping his hands to himself on the drive home. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who can’t help but stare at your lips as you answer his silly little questions about your favorite color and your favorite food.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who has to restrain himself from literally pulling you out of the car and up to his penthouse. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who suddenly finds himself a little nervous when he finally has you to himself. It’s his wedding night and he has to please his wife, right? 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who revels in tearing away your dress until he sees the lacy little white set you have on underneath.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who pins your wrists to the bed just so he can admire the way you look beneath him. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who nearly comes with no warning the first time he hears you moan his name. He decides it’s his sole purpose in life to make you moan like that as much as possible. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who is somehow both gentle and rough, who peppers you with kisses but rocks into you so good he has you seeing stars. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who thinks he ascends when you come around his cock and then ascends again when he remembers he married you and gets to see it for the rest of his life. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who makes sure to cum inside you and give you every last drop. After all, you have to make a new little Gojo heir, right?

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who holds you tightly to his chest until you drift off to sleep with your head atop his heart. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who takes the next two hours to be able to fall asleep himself, too hyped up on all the endorphins he’s feeling.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose brow furrows and stomach drops when he wakes the next morning to you not in his arms. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who scours the house for you and finds you in the living room reading, already having been up for hours. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose heart fractures a little bit when you greet him soooooo formally and tell him that there’s some breakfast in the fridge. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who spends far too long in the shower, letting the water run over him and trying to figure out where he went wrong. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who comes to the conclusion that he just needs to win you over a little more slowly, who smiles and thinks he knows exactly how to do it. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finds you still reading on the couch and tells you to get ready to go out– you’re going shopping. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who takes you to every designer shop he can think of and buys everything your eyes so much as graze over. Even if you tell him you don’t want it– he doesn’t care. You’re getting it. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose heart flutters in his chest when you smile at a pretty little necklace he buys you. It’s not the most expensive thing he’s bought you by far, but it makes you the happiest nonetheless. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s confused as to why you keep thanking him so profusely on the way home. His money is your money now… do you not know that? 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who makes a stop at the bank on the way home and gets you a flashy black credit card with your name (and new last name hehe) printed at the bottom. He loves the way your eyes widen and your lips part when he tells you there’s no limit. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who asks you what you want to do that night. Fly to Paris for dinner? Pack for a vacation to Bali? Maybe just a fancy meal at Tokyo’s most exclusive restaurant? He’s shocked when you say you’d prefer takeout and a movie on the couch, but all too happy to oblige.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who orders half the menu at your favorite ramen restaurant that he’s never heard of. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose eyes go wide when he takes the first bite and tells you it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who stares at your lips when you laugh and ask him, “really? The best?” 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s suddenly tugging your skirt down your thighs and burying his face between your legs. He takes one long lick and moans, saying that the ramen is now only second-best. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who thinks he could fuck you for hours on his couch, but stops after just a few rounds. He doesn’t want to tire his little baby out. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who savors the way you let him hold you after sex. Why couldn’t he hold you like this all day? So what if you’d just met– you’re his wife??? 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who buries his face in your neck to memorize the moment, dreading the second you pull away from him. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who almost protests when you wrap a blanket around your body and pad off, saying you’re going to take a shower.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who debates cornering you in the bathroom for another round, if only so he can hold you again, but thinks better of it and cleans up your forgotten ramen instead.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who is completely exasperated when you never return to finish the movie. He finds you sitting in your shared bed, reading again. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose heart drops when you only look up long enough to give him a small smile instead of tumbling straight into his arms. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finds himself once again in the shower contemplating his existence. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who decides he’ll win you over one way or another, even if it takes longer than he originally intended… 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who climbs into bed next to you and slings an arm around your waist casually, like his heart isn’t hammering in his chest when he buries his face in his pillow. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who doesn’t truly fall asleep until you turn off your bedside lamp and lie down beside him. His heart does little skips when you don’t wiggle out from under his arm. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who wakes first in the morning this time to find you curled so tightly into his chest he’s sure his pounding heart is going to wake you. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose eyes turn into little hearts when you wake blushing after you realize how closely you’ve curled into him. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who tells you it’s okay and pulls you back into him and smirks when you can't see his face.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who spends the next few weeks buying you every knick and knack, every snack and meal, and bending you every surface in the house. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose eyes light up whenever he sees you wearing that little necklace he bought you on that very first shopping trip. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who buys you another necklace… this one with his initials dangling from the chain. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who makes you ride him so he can see his letters swaying from your neck as you come on his cock. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who spends every waking moment with you on his mind, who gets in a sticky situation while fighting more than once because he’s waiting for you to text him back or remembering all the nasty things he did to you last night. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finally takes a look at the pages of those books you like so much and realizes the pure filth his dirty little wife reads right beside him every night. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s not angry or put off, but rather excited. He uses it as a manual the next he has you under him and when he repeats a line verbatim from your book he laughs so loud at your shocked little blush that he’s sure you’re both getting a noise complaint in the morning. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who makes every effort to find out what you like (beyond reading smut) and buys you front row tickets to a concert for a band that you both happen to love. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finds out your favorite movie series and takes three (unapproved) days off of work just to have a marathon with you. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who is having his morning coffee (full of cream and sugar and caramel sauce, of course) when you make your way into the kitchen with your lip pulled between your teeth. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose eyes blow wide when he sees a stick with two little pink lines and realizes he’s managed to knock you up on the first try.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who simply has to have you right then and there, bending you over the counter and groaning your name when he slides inside your cunt. He’s gentler this time, though. Can’t be too rough when his wife is pregnant, right? 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who goes overboard with his excitement and buys a new car the same day he finds out you’re pregnant. It’s practically a tank with all its safety features. He says you’re only allowed in that specific vehicle for the foreseeable future. Get used to it. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s all over you now. Whatever restraint he had before is gone now that you’re carrying his baby. He touches you… everywhere. All the time. It’s like it pains him to not have at least a smidgen of his skin on yours. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who keeps trying to win you over in the following weeks. He needs you. Not just your body, but your mind and your soul, too!

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who just lets it slip that he loves you when he’s balls deep in your cunt. Doesn’t even get embarrassed or flustered about it, just keeps pounding into you and whining about how much he loves you over and over again while he’s filling you up. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who lets the floodgates open after that. He tells you he loves you at every opportunity. It gets to the point where those three little words don’t even fluster you anymore, but you haven’t said them back. Not yet. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who waits patiently. He knows he’s getting to you, little by little. He’s sure he’ll hear you say it back soon. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s blindsided despite having convinced himself he’d be able to play it cool. He’s got you on the couch, wrapped up in his arms with his head on your tummy (he gets to hold you as much as he wants now hehe). You’re braiding his hair when you tell him that you love him. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who flushes the deepest shade of pink you’ve ever seen and pulls down his blindfold like he needs to see you say it again.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who begs to hear it again and again and again until he’s smiling so wide it's literally blinding. 

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who thinks his arranged marriage was definitely the best thing to ever happen to him <3

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

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#bree’s fics #jjk #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo #gojo smut #gojo headcanons #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen

[yueebby]

happy wife, happy life  — gojo satoru

synopsis. not fawning over his wife may prove to be harder than gojo thought.

contents. fluff, gojo is so whipped for his wife and everyone is tired (whats new), ooc gojo?

notes. this was pure self indulgence. i wanted to slander and coddle gojo all at once and this was it teehee :3

the first thing you hear when you stand up to leave the staff meeting is a wolf whistle.

“looking good,” satoru looks you up and down. you roll your eyes playfully, your husband’s behavior is not foreign to you. he taps your upper thigh, dangerously close to your butt as you take your leave. however, the others in the room don't take kindly to the action.

“highly inappropriate behavior gojo,” utahime mutters under her breath from across the table. beside her, nanami is giving your husband a hard stare. 

satoru pays no mind to them though, smiling up at you as you walk out of the room. you shake your head when he continuously blows a series of kisses. he ignores your rejection, opting to mouth crude comments instead.

the moment the door shuts, the strongest sorcerer immediately deflates, disinterested in whatever matters the rest had to discuss about. 

“i don’t know how she puts up with you,” utahime takes a long sip out of her cup of tea. beside her, shoko snorts.

“probably for his body.” shoko is not unfamiliar with satoru’s antics, having witnessed it since his rowdy school days. she applauds him for coming far with you, but it was still fun to tease him.

gojo crosses his arms, emitting a disgruntled sound. “and my golden personality?”

nanami sighs, “ieiri’s conclusion is most likely right.”

the limitless user wiggles his finger playfully. “nanamin, how scandalous of you to fantasize about my body! i’m a married man y’know~” 

nanami looks like he has eaten something sour. unlike you, nanami’s attitude towards gojo has not softened as the years passed.

“i’m surprised she’s still with you.” utahime snickers. “she’s a sensible woman and you’re–” 

satoru frowns at her statement.  he’d never thought about how you felt about his behavior. perhaps that was his fatal flaw. gojo satoru had a nasty streak of negligence. and the last time he failed to notice someone dear to him —   

“well i’m glad she ended up choosing me, yeah?” his frown is quickly covered up by the wide smirk on his face. he leans back on his chair that’s starting to feel less comfortable by the second. the chair creaks under the weight of his body. honestly, how old are these old wooden things? “as much as i’d like to keep chatting about my lovely wife, i’d like to get this meeting over with so i can see her again.”

the rest of the meeting ensues as usual.

“sensei has been weird… right?” itadori offers his hand after knocking megumi down during a sparring match. the black haired boy grunts as he is pulled up.

“if by weird, you mean normal.” megumi glances back at you and gojo who are watching intently at the first and second years practicing close combat on the training field. it was a bit peculiar to see satoru not throw himself all over you. gojo without pda is like a jigsaw puzzle missing its most essential piece, leaving the overall picture incomplete and lacking the electrifying energy that defines his existence. 

“i feel like i should be happy, but it’s unsettling to see him not initiating some misconduct. do you think they’re fighting?” nobara is panting on the grassy floor. she raises her hand in surrender when maki leaps in to take her head off with a spear.

maki retracts her blade, turning back to observe you and gojo, “nah, gojo would fold at her command.” 

“salmon.”

from across the training field, you turn to your husband nervously, “why are they staring at us?”

satoru hums, his blindfolded gaze focuses on the field in front of you, “hm, maybe they’re admiring their very beautiful [name] sensei.” the blindfolded man pauses. compliments should still be okay– right? satoru can’t imagine a life without lavishing you with love, yet he will content himself with gently sprinkling you with affection. 

you smack his shoulder playfully. to your surprise, your husband doesn’t reciprocate with some form of physical affection. you tilt your head, perplexed. 

quickly dismissing it, you yell at your students to continue their training.

you don’t notice the way satoru clenches his fists, keeping his eyes trained anywhere but you.

the next time satoru is tempted by your presence is when he comes back home after a mission. it was a walk in the park, but the heavy stack of paperwork that followed it had depleted his energy. all he wanted was to snuggle in bed with his wife, selfishly keeping you all to himself.

and you’re not making it easier to resist with the way you warmly greet him with a smile in nothing but a small cotton tee and those tiny pajama shorts. eyes up, eyes up, eyes up, satoru mentally chants.

he thinks he might actually die.

“toru!” you abandon the book you had been reading to pay your husband taxes (kisses that satoru demands he must have). “you’re home awfully late.”

“mission… paperwork,” his clipped response is mumbled as he hurries past you and to your shared bathroom, avoiding your touch. satoru silently prays to the heavens that you don’t notice his suspicious efforts as he makes his way to take a much needed ice cold shower.

you stand in your spot in confusion, letting your husband go. slowly, you start to connect the pieces of satoru’s strange behavior from his refusal to touch you to his sudden responsible disposition. gojo satoru never does paperwork– not unless you bribe him with a dozen kisses. speaking of kisses, you don’t even remember the last time he had demanded one. something was definitely wrong. 

without missing a beat, you quickly follow your lover’s trail into the bathroom.

to your delight, your husband had failed to lock the door. in the hush of your silence, you can hear the subtle rustle of satoru's garments.

his sky blue eyes go wide when he sees you walk through the door.

“toru… is there something wrong?” your voice is careful. 

the white haired man in front of you nervously laughs as he covers his bare chest, “geez, ask me out to dinner first.” 

“gojo satoru.”

your husband winces at his full name being used, but he puts on another mask. a faux smile plays on his lips as he shrugs. “i don’t know what you mean, gojo.” 

your heart drops at his insistence to shut you out, but you stand your ground. with sheer determination, you walk up to your husband, closing the gap between the two of you. you cup his cheek with a hand while you start to lean closer, your lips nearly brushing.

satoru shuts his eyes, inhaling a deep breath to regain composure. he even sucks in his lips, making him look utterly ridiculous. despite the dangerous allure of your proximity, he resolves to stand firm.

"you won’t even kiss me anymore! satoru, this is absurd. what's happening?" you distance yourself, seeking answers.

despite his towering stature, a snort escapes you as satoru resembles a mere child when mumbling something under his breath.

"come on, use your big boy words."

"i don't want to drive you away," he avoids making eye contact now that his blindfold is off. "i know i can be a bit overwhelming at times."

upon hearing his excuse, you snort loudly, “seriously?”

“seriously.”

“i can’t believe i married such an idiot.” you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck.

satoru pouts, “you’re breaking my heart wifey.”

your lips softly kiss the corner of his mouth. like it was muscle memory, satoru’s lips chase yours even after you pull away. you smile.

“for such a genius, you really are stupid ‘toru.” you flick his forehead. he whines and you know it didn’t hurt, yet you entertain him by leaning up to kiss his injury. “believe it or not, i married you for reasons beyond your pretty face and body.”

“you think i’m pretty?” his eyes shine bright as they lovingly gaze into yours. you take one hand to cup his cheek. he nuzzles his face into it.

“of course you’d say that.” you laugh softly. “but honestly, i’m offended that you thought i would ever be annoyed by your affections. might i remind you that we have been madly in love since our youth? i found myself captivated by your ability to love effortlessly, and the way you hopelessly pined for me for years? i knew i was a goner. that… and your bank accoun–”

satoru kisses you with an intensity that leaves you feeling blissfully lightheaded. lost in the haze of the moment, he showers the rest of your face with tender, wet kisses, and you stand there, surrendering to the sweet assault.

upon withdrawing, satoru wears a broad grin. "i was an idiot today, wasn't i?" you nod, breathless. "how about i make it up to you tonight?" he proposes, drawing you close. you are all too familiar with that feral grin adorning his face.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺ #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x reader

[aromantic-pantyanarchy]

It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.

I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.

I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.

I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)

I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.

#aromantic #aro #aro positivity #reference to aphobia

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | M.List & Intro

doll!enha (hyung line) x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), dolls, mentions of possession and demons, specific warnings on individual chapters synopsis: when you're strapped for cash and an opportunity arises to help you out, you're stuck in a mansion with 4 human-like dolls who do anything but sit still. taglist: closed!! a/n: hi! so this was actually inspired by this ask and originally i was thinking of making it a long one-shot but then i was like, what if each hyung line member got their own chapter? so here we are! below is an introduction into the fic so make sure you read it before going into the chapters! they should be released every 1-2 weeks but i still have to write them so it's tbd right now.

warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), subby!jake, oral (m. rec), slight throat fucking, whimpering and whining, pet names (baby doll, pup), begging.

wc: 7.7k

read here

synopsis: it's your first week at your new job and you make a shocking revelation that puts your world in a spin and lets you experience something you never knew was possible

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (f.rec), fingering, dom!hoon (i didn't mean this, it just happened), begging but not really, horror elements obvs

wc: 8.9k

read here

synopsis: once you find out the dolls' secret, you're on the hunt to find out how they became this way. in the library you stumble across something and you're left alone with park sunghoon who promises to keep your rendezvous with jaeyun a secret from their owner, but not without something in return

warnings: smut (mdni), soft dom!jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), punishment, pussy slapping, begging, slight choking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, princess), mentions of fire and other supernatural elements, anything else lmk!

wc: 10.3k

release date: 7th May

synopsis: your friend comes to visit you in the mansion after a month but her harsh words towards the dolls brings out a protective side, and jongseong lets you in on some secrets about the house and how they came to be.

warnings: smut (mdni), oral (m&f.rec), throat fucking, rough, kinda dom!hee, doggy, choking, pet names (baby, angel), mentions of demons, revelations and conclusion

wc: tbd

release date: 14th May (subject to change)

synopsis: with only 2 weeks left, you have formed a bond with each of the dolls, well, all of them except heeseung. as you snoop around his room to find out more about him, he gives you all the answers you're looking for and more

“How long for how much?” 

"Two months, 5k, just cleaning some woman's house," Mia responds, placing the newspaper in front of you with a dramatic flourish, the ad circled in pink glitter pen.

Taking the paper from her, you wrinkle your brow and examine the advertisement with scepticism and intrigue, "Isn't it strange that she's advertising in the newspaper? Who even reads these anymore?" Upon closer inspection, you sneer and return it to Mia, your fingertips leaving light smudges on the paper, "And she didn't even put her name, just 'Ms. Kim'."

This whole situation feels odd. What employer doesn’t post an ad on the internet like a normal person? 

"She's probably ancient, Y/N. Old folks aren't exactly tech-savvy," Mia offers, attempting to rationalise the oddity.

Despite your reservations, the need for employment weighs heavily. Losing your job last month has left little time for finding a new one, and the bills certainly haven't stopped coming. £5000 for two months' work is an enticing offer, especially considering your previous job paid a fraction of that for an entire month's work.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair as you contemplate the offer. The uncertainty gnaws at you, but the allure of some financial stability is hard to ignore. Mia watches you, her expression a mixture of concern and anticipation as she awaits you to make up your mind. She could use the money too, giving her some extra cash to pay for her birthday trip in a couple of months.

"You know what?" you finally say, breaking the heavy silence that hangs between you. "Let's give it a shot. It's just two months, right? And we could really use the money."

Mia's face lights up with a grin, her enthusiasm infectious, "That's the spirit! Besides, how bad could it be? It's just cleaning."

You nod in agreement, though a lingering sense of unease tugs at the edges of your mind like a persistent itch you can't scratch. Pushing it aside, you focus on the prospect of income and the relief it would bring.

"Alright then," you say, mustering up a smile despite the nagging doubts that linger in the back of your mind. "Let's do it. But if anything feels off, we bail, deal?"

Mia nods enthusiastically, already dialling Ms. Kim’s number on her phone, her eagerness palpable as she eagerly anticipates the adventure that lies ahead.

_____

The drive to Ms. Kim's house feels never-ending, with each mile leaving the city behind and the surroundings blurring into an everlasting blur of trees and road. You check the satnav, hoping for a break from the monotony, only to see that, tragically, it still shows an hour left on the journey.

The scenery outside appears stuck in time, with the trees going past in a repeated rhythm that does little to break the spell of boredom. You peek at Mia, who sits next to you in the driver's seat, her expression conveying a similar mix of frustration and resignation.

The radio drones on in the background, a pitiful attempt to break the quiet that hangs thick in the air. You reach over and fumble with the dial, hoping to find a distraction, but each station either plays static or music you've heard a thousand times before.

“You seriously need to get a better car, Y/N. I told you we should have taken mine,” she snips at you, the journey clearly getting to her. You had run out of conversation in the first hour, discussing your non-existent love life and jobs that you have applied for. Since nothing was going on in your life, there wasn’t much to talk about.

“We said we would take mine so she would feel pity and give us more money,” you grumble, sinking into your seat in protest. If this woman has enough money to spend on random girls cleaning her house, she could have some more to throw at you as charity; you’ll take anything at this point.

The drive continues until finally, you pull up to Ms. Kim’s house. But calling it a house feels like a gross understatement; it's a mansion, a sprawling castle that looms larger than life before you. 

A long gravel path stretches out before you, leading up to the imposing sand-coloured building. The mansion seems to bask in its own magnificence, the rustic feel and unkept garden only add a sense of eeriness to your wonder.

You exchange a glance with Mia, both of you momentarily speechless. This is not what you expected when you answered the ad in the newspaper. You expected it to be big, obviously, she wasn't going to give out 5k for a studio apartment, but this is on another level of anything you could have imagined.

Mia locks the car door, unsure whether to approach the large double doors. She outstretches her hand for you to take, seeking your comfort as she takes the first steps. You both look like you’re back in your first year of high school, scared that as soon as you step foot in the place, it will swallow you whole.

“We’re supposed to clean this every day?” you ask in disbelief.

Shaking her head, Mia tries to convey a sense of confidence in her voice yet it fails, “Surely not, the travel alone is too much for someone to do every day.”

With hesitant steps, you both make your way to the entrance, your finger reaching out to press the doorbell which rings a faint familiar tune, one you’ve heard plenty yet could never place the name. For a moment, there is only silence, and you begin to wonder if anyone is home. But then, with a creak that seems to reverberate through the very foundations of the mansion, the door slowly swings open, revealing a dimly lit interior shrouded in shadow.

A woman stands in front of you, her elegant clothes and neatly styled hair give her the appearance of a 90s supermodel. She doesn't resemble the idea you had of Ms. Kim. "Y/N and Mia?" she inquires, her voice smooth and melodious, a twinkle of delight in her eyes as she tilts her head with a smile.

You share a puzzled look with Mia. This woman could not possibly be Ms. Kim. For starters, she seems way too young to be the owner of this castle; she had to be just slightly older than yourself and you can barely afford to buy a loaf of bread. The advertisement plainly said that Ms. Kim was looking for help, hinting that she was an elderly homeowner in need of assistance. Second, the decision to advertise in a newspaper rather than somewhere like Indeed does not fit the image of a 20-something.

Your mind races with questions, but before you can express your reservations, the woman motions for you to follow her into the mansion. With a shared look, you and Mia exchange a silent agreement, remembering that you promised to bail as soon as anything got weird. 

As you cross the threshold, the heavy wooden door slams behind you with a bang and you follow the mystery woman deeper into the mansion's maze halls, you can't help but feel like there's more to this situation than meets the eye.

“My name is Kim Soonyeol, Ms. Kim is probably how you know me. I am so happy you answered my ad so promptly! I was scared no one would answer it,” she explains.

Walking through the large hallways, you notice one thing that seems to be a prominent feature.

Dolls. 

Lots and lots of creepy, old-timey porcelain dolls. They line the shelves, perched on antique furniture, and seem to stare at you with unblinking eyes as you pass by. Their features are fixed, ranging from serene to sinister, each contributing to the feeling of discomfort in the air.

Mia's grip on your hand tightens, and you can feel the tension radiating from her as she whispers, "Do you think they all have cameras in their eyes?" Her words send a chill down your spine, and you can't help but entertain the unsettling thought.

The woman leading you through the mansion seems unbothered by the presence of the dolls, her demeanour calm and composed as she gestures for you to follow. But you can't shake the feeling that there's something deeply wrong about this place.

"I am going away on some business for 2 months," she begins, her voice echoing through the cavernous halls, "and I need you to clean this entire house from top to bottom as well as a few...other errands."

Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, the only sound is the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the distance. Soonyeol is ominous in her explanations, not delving any further into these ‘errands’. It's strange to you, why can’t her house stay stagnant for a month or two?

“There are a lot of rooms, Ms. Kim,” you comment, hoping she might open up and explain anything about this castle and why the fuck it is filled to the brim with porcelain dolls. It’s not exactly a young person’s hobby to collect these things - unless they’re haunted, then you know you need to take a sharp turn for the exit.

She smiles fondly, “Yes, each bedroom is designated to a precious doll of mine,” she offers as an explanation but fails to give any clarity.

“She is fucking crazy,” your friend whispers to you, her hand now gripping your arm as she walks slightly behind you, letting you take the lead in case of danger. 

As Soonyeol gestures towards a room at the end of the corridor, she announces, "And this is your room. I've made sure I at least cleaned this before I left," punctuating her statement with a chuckle. With a flourish, she opens the door, revealing a space that dwarfs your flat and the corner shop it sits above.

But your confusion quickly turns to apprehension as Soonyeol's words sink in. "Wait, what do you mean 'our room'?" you interject, trying to mask the rising unease in your voice. "Isn't this just a cleaning job?"

Soonyeol's expression shifts, her eyes widening with a hint of anger as she leans back and places a hand on her chest. "Wasn't I clear in the ad that you would be housesitting?" she retorts, her tone laced with irritation. "I cannot leave my babies here on their own. They can't fend for themselves."

A chill runs down your spine as her words sink in.,"Babies?" you repeat, your mind reeling at the implications of her statement, "What do you mean by that?"

But before you can press for answers, Soonyeol is already ushering you and Mia out of the guest bedroom and into another part of the mansion. As you step into the dining room, you're met with a sight that you can't quite put into words.

Four figures sit at the dining table, their faces with different expressions and their bodies unmoving. At first glance, they appear to be ordinary people, but then it hits you like a bolt of lightning - they're not real. They're dolls, human-like dolls arranged as if they were waiting for a meal that would never come.

A shiver runs down your spine as you exchange a horrified glance with Mia. The realisation sinks in like a stone in the pit of your stomach - this woman is not just eccentric, she's fucking unhinged. And as you stand in that surreal dining room, surrounded by figures that seem to stare back at you with empty eyes, you can't help but feel a creeping sense of dread settle over you like a suffocating fog.

Despite Mia’s step back, you move forward, looking at them in detail. They are exquisitely done, each of them with their own unique features and life-like skin. You knew dolls like this existed but not to this level of detail. They must be worth thousands of pounds, easily in the double digits.

“If you cannot stay then I will have to look for someone else,” she starts to dismiss you much to Mia’s relief; she is already mentally back in the car and screeching out. 

As Soonyeol's words hang in the air, the weight of her ultimatum settling heavily on your shoulders, Mia visibly relaxes, relief evident in her demeanour. She's already mentally back in the car, ready to screech out of this bizarre situation.

But your attention is drawn to one particular doll seated at the dining table. His eyes, although lifeless, seem to pull you in with an inexplicable allure. He's striking, meticulously detailed with dark cherry-red hair, wide lips, and a figure that exudes an almost ethereal charm, even in his simple white t-shirt. His eyes, though small, are framed by long lashes that only add to his beauty.

Before you realise what you're doing, your mouth begins to speak, surprising both you and Mia. "I can stay, sure," you hear yourself say, the words tumbling out with a sense of inevitability.

"What?" Mia's incredulous voice snaps you back to reality, her eyes wide with disbelief as she pleads with you to reconsider, "You can't up and move your life for 2 months!" she warns in a hushed tone, her concern palpable.

“I don’t exactly have anything to go back to,” you shrug, knowing that all that awaits you back in the city is unopened bills and mouldy cheese. Mia has much more to lose, a job and boyfriend aren’t exactly something you can just upchuck.

"You go home, and I'll do it," you suggest, a plan forming in your mind as you speak, "You can visit on your days off and help me out. I'll make sure you get half the money."

Mia doesn't look entirely convinced, but the thought of such a large sum of money for minimal work seems to appeal to her pragmatic side, "Will you be okay?" she asks, genuine concern etched into her features.

You consider the question carefully, a strange sense of reassurance emanating from the dolls behind you, despite their unsettling presence, "I will be. If anything happens, I'll come straight home," you assure her, your voice steadier than you feel.

Reluctantly, Mia agrees, nodding her head as she steps to the side to speak with Soonyeol and gather more information about the job. Left alone with the dolls, you can't help but steal one last glance at the cherry-red-haired figure that caught your eye earlier. But something is different this time - the smirk on his lips and the narrowed gaze in his eyes seem almost... knowing. 

Was he doing that before?

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #jake smut #jay smut #masterlist #aj writes #i am excited! #; the doll house

[earthtooz]

in which: a moment of impulsivity has ratio knocking on your door at 3 am with a grand confession.

There is a great cloud of curiosity that surrounds Dr. Ratio.

His intelligence is far beyond the average person’s comprehension, mind working at insurmountable speeds to reach conclusions and answers that no others have come to before. Mediocrity and Ratio could never stand to be in the same room, intelligence and reputation as an academic preceding him.

When people find out that you have been in a long-term relationship with the scholar, you can almost see the question mark above their heads. How did you meet? When did you start dating? How did you start dating? How do you put up with him? (You always answer that with ‘I’m still trying to find out myself’. He always rolls his eyes when you say that, but it’s nothing a kiss to the cheek can’t solve.) 

Only your closest friends know the story of how you started dating, but it’s always one you love recounting, much to the dismay of Veritas. 

For the decades that he has lived for, there have been few moments he regrets, always critically scrutinising every move six steps before he makes them. No one has ever seen him messy, uncertain, or dishevelled- except you. 

Towards the end of your university years, with an urgent final assignment due soon, you’re rudely awoken one night by frantic knocks on your dorm’s door. You notice the clock reads 3 am, and since the knocks only got louder by the second, you throw your covers off with a groan.

Who could be at your door at 3 am? Perhaps a drunk dormmate who forgot their keys? Or someone knocking thinking it was their room?

Looking through the peephole, you’re stunned to see a certain violet-haired friend on the other side, trouble etched deeply into his features. His hair was messy, falling haphazardly around his face, and his usual accessory of a laurel wreath was discarded, flamboyant outfit discarded for something more comfortable. 

It’s clear that he’s troubled by something, but you have half a mind to leave him outside until he goes away (that’s what he’d do to you, or so you think).

Opening the door, you begin by scolding him. “You better have a good reason to show up at this godforsaken time or otherwise-”

“-I’m in love with you.” 

Perhaps if it were a normal hour of the day, and if you hadn’t just been rudely awaken from your sleep, you would have processed his words faster. Instead, you blink at him once, twice, three times, fatigue weighing heavily on your features as you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

“What?” You murmur, shaking your head as if that would clear up the mental blockage.

“I’m in love with you,” he repeats, firmer this time. 

You grab his wrist and drag him inside your dorm, blinded by the harshness of the hallway lights illuminating the outline of his figure. Turning on the softer light on your desk, you take a seat on the edge of your bed, gazing down at your hands. Veritas, however, stays near your door, annoyingly muscular arms flexed over his chest.

“I have so many questions,” you grumble, rubbing your eyes. “Why are you awake? You’re always asleep by 11 to get your ass up at 6 to exercise, or whatever.” 

“Are you avoiding the main point, or just stupid?” He grabs you by the shoulders and shakes. “I love you.” 

“Excuse me! You were banging bullets on my dorm room, I’m disorientated right now, not stupid- what?”

It’s almost like his statement from earlier only pierces through your brain now with the way you freeze, eyes morphing into something akin to disbelief and shock. He sees all the changes in your expression in the dimness of the room, nervously biting his cheek with every subtle shift.

“Did… I hear that right?” You whisper after what feels like an eternity. “You love me?”

He nods. “For a few years now.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Am I not doing so in this very moment?” 

Tonight has been nothing but agitating for him. First, he was kept awake by the pounding of his heart and the burning desire to see you, significantly delaying his sleep until Veritas decided to cast all caution into the wind, running to your dorm all the way on the other side of the University. Now, he is trying to pour his heart onto your hands, all because of a moment of impulsivity and bull-headed stubbornness, and a secret he cannot keep to himself any longer.

He may be stubborn (as are all geniuses), but Veritas is never impulsive. All truths will come to light eventually, no matter how hard he tries to hide them. 

“While I accept that my feelings may not be reciprocated, can you at least say something rather than stare at me blankly?” There’s an unfamiliar look of concern in his eyes, contrasting the usual pride and arrogance he always wears.

What happened to the Veritas Ratio you know? Who is this man by your feet?

“No- that’s not. I… I love you too, I have for a while now, but everything about this is… just… unbelievable.”

“Why?” 

“You’re aeons out of my league, Veritas. I never once considered you would return my feelings.”

He stifles back a laugh, dropping his large hands off your shoulders and clutching the mattress on either side of you. You won’t forget about the way the sheets crumple beneath his grip, or the way his head hangs, bangs tickling your legs.

Bravely, you raise a hand to his hair, running through it. Seemed like he could use the comfort.

“You make me too damn nervous,” he breathes, a hand coming to clutch at his chest. 

“Never thought I’d live to see the day you admit you get nervous.” 

“Why’s that?”

“The only thing bigger than your brain is your ego.”

His confession, and everything about that night, was unorthodox, never predicting that you’d end the day curled up next to Veritas, or the long relationship that would follow.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#guys omfg act shocked that im writing more dr ratio #earthtooz: honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff

[grangerhater]

MINE, ALWAYS

pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

synopsis : they are rivals but once they are assigned roommates for a school trip they actually forget to argue about that, surprisingly accepting they have to share a bed.

warnings: rivals w sexual tension, eventual sexual content, (wanrning : plot before p0rn), piv, bj, f!ngering, one bed trope, everyone is above 18 obviously, possessiveness

smut, enemies to lovers, and some fluff if you squint

The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, and students excitedly disembarked, ready for their annual school trip. Among the bustling crowd, Draco Malfoy and Y/N Y/L/N found themselves eyeing each other warily. For years, they had been rivals, their rivalry filled with tension and sparks flying whenever they were in close proximity. This trip was no exception.

Fate had a funny way of working sometimes, and in this instance, it meant that Draco and Y/N found themselves assigned to share a room at the quaint inn where they would be staying. The room was cozy, with a single bed taking up most of the space. When they exchanged glances, they both felt a mixture of anticipation and unease at the thought of spending the trip in such close quarters.

After settling in, Draco decided to freshen up. He disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing through the room. Y/N took this opportunity to unpack their belongings, trying to focus on the task at hand and ignore the butterflies fluttering in their stomach.

Minutes later, Draco emerged from the bathroom, his wet hair tousled and a towel wrapped securely around his waist. His silver eyes met Y/N's gaze, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. There was an undeniable hunger in his eyes, a longing that neither of them could deny. Y/N felt their heart racing, their body trembling with anticipation.

But just as quickly as the moment had arrived, it vanished, replaced with the familiar tension and bickering that had defined their relationship for so long.

"You're taking up all the space," Draco snapped, eyeing the scattered belongings on the bed.

"Well, maybe if you weren't hogging the bathroom for so long, I wouldn't have had to unpack here," Y/N countered, their voice laced with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Draco rolled his eyes, his trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Always finding something to complain about, aren't you?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk of their own forming. "Well, someone has to keep you in check, Malfoy."

As the trip continued, their bickering continued. Every interaction between them was laced with snarky comments and subtle jabs. But beneath the surface, there was an undeniable chemistry that neither of them could ignore. Every look or touch was charged with unspoken emotion, a tension between them that neither could deny. Even when they fought, there was a deep understanding of each other's feelings that kept them connected throughout the trip.

During a visit to a picturesque village, Draco and Y/N found themselves exploring together. The narrow streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of market vendors, but their focus was solely on each other. They wandered aimlessly, their banter providing a soundtrack to their journey. The tension between them seemed to grow with each passing moment, filling the air with an almost tangible electricity.

As they strolled along, they came across a small park, secluded and peaceful. Unable to resist the lure of the empty benches and serene atmosphere, they sat down, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them.

"You know," Y/N began, their voice softer than before, "I've always wondered why we seem to clash so much, other than the fact you are a spoiled little prick."

Draco's expression softened, curiosity evident in his eyes. "And what conclusion have you come to, Y/L/N?"

A small smile played on Y/N's lips. "I think it's because we bring out the best in each other, even if we don't always realize it.

Draco's gaze softened, his walls crumbling in the presence of Y/N's vulnerability. "Perhaps you're right. We've always pushed each other to be better, even if we've gone about it in the most antagonistic way possible."

Silence settled between them for a moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, they reverted back to their familiar bickering.

"You're still as insufferable as ever, Malfoy," Y/N teased, their voice filled with fondness.

"And you're still as infuriating, Y/L/N," Draco shot back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

But this time, the bickering was laced with something different. It held a hint of affection, a deeper connection that both Draco and Y/N were beginning to acknowledge.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the village, they made their way back to the inn. The room awaited them, the single bed serving as a constant reminder of the tension that had simmered between them all day.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, their gaze flickering between Draco and the bed. They took a deep breath, their usual shyness and insecurity being replaced by a newfound confidence. "I suppose we'll have to make do with the sleeping arrangements, won't we, Malfoy?"

Draco's eyes gleamed with a mixture of surprise and desire. "I suppose we will, Y/L/N. Still despise your face though, don’t be spreading around that i allowed you to share my bed."

Y/N smirked, rolling their eyes. "Of course, Malfoy. Wouldn't have it any other way."

And so, with a mix of tension, desire, and undeniable chemistry, Draco and Y/N climbed into the single bed, their rivalry and bickering fading into the background. In that moment, they found solace in each other's presence, their hunger finally acknowledged and their connection strengthening.

When only pure silence was heard right before they fell asleep Y/N heard a whisper yell from Malfoy’s side "You think you're so much better than me? You think you're so much smarter? You're just a nosy, stuck-up, know-it-all-Bimbo!"

"At least I'm actually smart enough to understand the concept of 'personal space!' You're just a spoiled, entitled brat who's never had to work for anything in your life!” she replied firmly yet half asleep

Draco's body tensed at Y/N's comment, their bickering reaching a boiling point. His hands wrapped around Y/N's wrists, roughly manhandling them and pulling them close.

"You're so stubborn!" Draco hissed, his breath hot against Y/N's ear. "Do you seriously think I won't do anything if you refuse to listen to me?"

Y/N glared back, struggling against Draco's grip, but unable to break free.

Draco's grip tightened around Y/N's wrists, a possessive glint in his eyes. He leaned inhis lips brushing against Y/N's neck as he whispered "You're mine, Y/N you belong to me" He trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin as she moaned in pleasure

Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched Y/N struggle against him a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear as he whispered "You know you want this. You want me to take control, to make you mine" With a sudden movement Draco spun Y/N around, pressing her against the wall. His hands roamed over her bodypinning her wrists above her head as he claimed her lips in a rough, possessive kiss.

Y/N moaned into the kiss, her body responding to Draco's touch despite her angerHe pulled awaya wicked grin on his face as he leaned in to whisper in her ear once more.

"You're mine, Y/N. And I'll do whatever it takes to make you realize it" With thatDraco claimed Y/N's lips once more, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of desire as he asserted his dominance over her once more

Y/N's struggles ceased as Draco's touch sent shivers down her spine. She arched her backpressing herself closer to him, craving more of his touch. Draco's hands roamed over her body tracing every curve and dip, igniting a fire within her.

Their bickering forgotten, they gave into their desires their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. Draco's lips met Y/N's, his tongue exploring her mouth as she moaned in pleasure. He pushed her onto the bed, his hands roaming over her body as he stripped her of her clothes

Draco pushed Y/N against the wall, his lips crashing against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. He gripped her hips tightly, grinding his hard cock against her thigh.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, her body responding to his touch despite her anger. Draco's hands roamed over her body, his fingers digging into her flesh as he claimed her as his own.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck as he bit and sucked at her skin, leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's body trembled with desire as Draco's hands roamed over her, his fingers finding their way between her legs.

He teased her, rubbing her clit with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her. As he fingered her, his other hand found its way to her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple until she cried out in pleasure.

He continued to finger her, his pace increasing as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Finally, he pulled his fingers out of her, turning her around and pushing her down onto her knees.

He unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock and thrusting it into her mouth. Y/N took him eagerly her mouth enveloping him as she worked him with her tongue Draco's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as he fucked her mouth with a fierce hunger.

He pulled out of her mouth pushing her back against the wall and lifting her legs up to wrap around his waist. He thrust into her with a fierce hunger, his body slamming against hers with each movement

Y/N cried out in pleasure, her body writhing against his as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Draco's thrusts became more urgent and intense, his body trembling with desire as he neared his own peak.

As he continued to pound into her, his grip on her throat tightened leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's nails dug into his back as he continued to thrust into her with a fierce hunger

Their bickering reached a boiling point, with Draco manhandling Y/N and claiming her as his own, he took control making her his in a rough, possessive kiss and teasing her with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her.

Finally, they reached their climax, their bodies writhing in ecstasy as they cried out each other's names. Draco asserted his dominance once more, reminding Y/N that she belonged to him.

Draco's grip on Y/N's body loosened as he pulled out of her, his chest heaving as he looked down at her. Y/N's eyes were closed, her body still trembling with pleasure.

Draco leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he whispered, "You're mine, Y/N. Always" Y/N opened her eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I know," she murmured, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "I wouldn't want it any other way"

Draco helped Y/N to her feet, holding her close as they stood there, their bodies still intertwined. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his hands trailing down her body as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, Y/N. I could never get enough of you"

Y/N blushed, leaning into him as she whispered back, "I feel the same way about you Draco. I love you"

Draco's eyes softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I love you too, Y/N. Always and forever”

They stood there for a few moments longer, their bodies entwined as they basked in the afterglow of their passion. Finally they pulled apart, their eyes meeting as they smiled at each other

Draco took Y/N's hand, leading her towards the bed. "Come on" he said, his voice low and husky. "Let's get some rest, we have a lot more exploring to do tomorrow"

Y/N smiled, following him to the bed as they settled in for the night, their bodies entwined as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms

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