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#I'm more checking if its changed now a days
charmandabear · 10 hours
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18 for the smut ask game 😈 Astarion x Reader or Astarion x any OC of your choice 😩
oh fuck yes
From @astarionfreak's smut ask game.
18. "I'm not going to beg." "Oh but you will."
This was supposed to be a short little drabble and then became a multi-day writing exercise 😭 I have a few more of these sitting in my inbox, so they'll be coming out eventually.
Note: I'm experimenting with writing the characters in Office Hours in third rather than second person. This isn't canonical, just me banging my dollies together to see what happens lol. But yes, in theory, Rosalind is Tav from Office Hours, if just slightly modified. She is also explicitly plus sized (which I plan to do in the edited version once OH is done.)
"I'm not going to beg," Astarion smirks, looking up at Rosalind over his glasses while his hands rest on her plush thighs straddling his lap. He leans against the back of the couch with unearned confidence.
"Oh, but you will." She ghosts her lips over his as she runs her fingers through the silvery curls at the back of his head. She grinds her hips against his, but his expression gives little away. Her only indication that he's struggling to remain stone-faced at all is the slight quaver in his breath. She captures his lips in hers, keeping the kiss languid and sensual. His hands travel up her hips and over the swell of her ass, resting on her lower back. She presses her tits into his chest, breathing deeply to push them into him further. She slides her hands down his neck, gently grazing against his earlobe and delighting in the subtle buck of his hips.
"Cheating," he murmurs into the kiss, and Rosalind's lips curl into a smile.
"Then you should have said something beforehand," she hums back, and her hands continue their journey down to his collar and begin to undo the buttons of his shirt. She fails to keep her own desires in check as she gets more desperate with each button. Her kisses grow frantic and his fingers dig into her ass, pulling her harder into his lap. When the last button slips through its hole, she roughly grabs his collar and yanks him off the couch to follow her lead. "Bedroom, now." Her voice is almost a growl and Astarion chuckles in response.
Rosalind continues to pull him backwards through her apartment and into her bedroom. She pushes him back onto the bed and peels off her shirt as he scoots himself into the center of her queen-sized mattress. She settles herself between his legs and dives down to plant sloppy kisses across his stomach. He slides his hand into her hair as she unbuckles his pants and flashes him a mischievous smile before pulling them down under his ass. He may have been able to keep his cool through her ministrations, but his cock standing fully erect tells a different story. She can feel her pussy clench instinctively as she thinks about sliding herself down on him. But not yet. He needs to beg for it first.
She leans forward onto her elbows with her ass in the air and flicks her gaze up towards Astarion, who studies her carefully. She runs a slow stripe up his shaft with the tip of her tongue and watches for the change in his breathing. She gently takes his tip in her mouth and swirls her tongue around it, gathering enough spit for her to take a hand and slide it down his length. He hisses lightly and his hands tighten in her hair.
"Hmm, you like that, don't you?" she whispers while slowly pumping his shaft with her hand.
"I- ah- I think I'm allowed to enjoy a blowjob from my girlfriend," he retorts in what's almost certainly a shakier voice than he intended. "I just said I wasn't going to beg."
"We'll see about that," Rosalind snickers and takes him back in her mouth, working the underside of his cock with her tongue. He grunts as he slams his fist down on the bed with a soft thump. She begins to twist her hand around the base of his cock as she bobs her mouth up and down the head. His hips twitch, like he's trying desperately to keep them still and failing. She reaches her other hand up and gives his balls a light squeeze, earning the softest moan in response.
She pulls away suddenly and he snaps his gaze to her at the loss of contact. She watches him smugly as she unhooks her bra and releases her impressive tits to hang down and ever so lightly brush against the head of his cock. He bites down on his lip, breathing growing more rapid as she lowers herself down and pins his cock between his stomach and her breasts.
"Gods, fuck," he groans, letting his head fall back onto the bed. She squeezes her tits around his length and strokes him, giving his tip a little lick when it pokes through her cleavage. Rosalind watches Astarion carefully as his erratic breaths wrack through his chest. She wraps her lips back around the head of his cock and takes him in as far as she comfortably can. She begins to suck lightly and his legs squeeze against her sides in response.
Once she feels that he's sufficiently worked up she pulls away and she's certain he's going to deny the little whimper that escapes his lips. She stands and slips out of her skirt, tights, and panties in one easy motion. He cranes his neck up to see where she's gone and she laughs.
"Someone's eager," she coos, crawling back onto the bed and straddling his hips. She lets her belly graze across his cock and he shudders, squeezing his eyes closed.
"I'm in complete control," he huffs without opening his eyes. She brings her face to his, hovering their lips inches apart.
"It's okay if you're not," she breathes, and his furrowed brow relaxes ever so slightly. "I've got you, I won't let you fall." She closes the distance and kisses him softly, and after a moment of tension he melts and wraps his arms around her neck.
She breaks the kiss and presses her forehead against his. "Are you still up for the challenge?" Her voice is still quiet but there's just a note of mischief. He takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. Then he opens his eyes and the corners of his mouth pique upwards ever so slightly.
"I am if you are," he says in a low rumble that he knows drives Rosalind crazy. She nips his bottom lip and takes his glasses out of his hand, placing them neatly on the bedside table. Then she lowers her hips to drag her folds along the length of his cock. He hisses and jerks his hips, then smirks and presses his lips together obstinately.
"Dick," she snickers.
"Yes, I do believe that's- ah- the point," he stutters as she teases the tip of his cock with her cunt again. Her mischievous grin widens as she pulls up on her knees, hovering over his erection.
"Anything to say?" she croons, and he lets out a breathy chuckle.
"Darling, I think you want it more than I do at this point."
"Oh me? I'm doing great." She leans back and rubs her slit along his cock again, letting her arousal coat his length. He keeps his lips pressed tightly together, but she can see a thin sheen of sweat forming on his brow. She continues to grind on his cock, starting to moan as her clit rubs against his wet shaft. He watches her with wild eyes as she gets herself off just by sliding herself along his dick. Her breathing picks up with her pace, whimpering in time with her rolling hips.
"Fuck, Rosalind," he's rasps, and her breath hitches when she hears him say her name.
"Mmf, yes babe?" She's struggling to keep it together just as much as he is, but she's determined to make him crack.
"Ha, you're close, aren't you?" He's panting but he keeps his eyes trained on her.
"Yes, but that wasn't part of the terms," she says hoarsely without slowing her movement.
"But wouldn't it just feel so much better to feel me inside you, my thick cock stretching you out?" he purrs, and she lets out a debaucherous whine.
"If you think so, then you know what you need to do," she says in a strained voice, knowing that she won't actually last much longer herself. She holds fast, and if it means coming on the side of his cock like she's a horny teenager and he's her pillow, so be it. She grinds against him faster, building herself back up to the edge.
"Fucking hells," he groans, letting his head fall back onto the bed. Leaning forward, his tip poised right at her entrance, she puts her lips close to his.
"Yes, hon?" she whispers, and she knows she's already won. He's barely hiding his whimpers anymore.
"I- gods, fuck." His hips thrust up instinctively, but she shifts out of the way.
"Say it, Astarion," she hisses through gritted teeth.
"Rosalind, I- ah-"
She slides her hands into his hair and pulls hard. "Say. It."
"Fuck, Rosalind, please. Please, gods, let me fuck you." His mewling whine is utterly delicious, and they both groan loudly when she drops her hips and sinks onto his cock. He digs his fingers into her thick flesh, thrusting up into her as she slams back down. Moving together like this, it doesn't take long for them to both to reach the precipice. Rosalind pulls Astarion's face into a rough kiss while continuing to furiously ride his dick. He bites on her lip hard enough to draw blood and she moans into his mouth. Once the taste of iron hits both their tongues their orgasms crash down on them in unison, their hips jutting in time as they ride through wave after wave.
They eventually still, panting heavily with their foreheads pressed together. Astarion's eyes flutter open and he kisses Rosalind, tenderly sucking on the wound he made on her lower lip. A light giggle escapes her as she pulls herself off him.
"Told you," she says with a positively insufferable grin.
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sunwarmed-ash · 17 hours
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Heyoooo Happy Monday!
Did yall read last nights Sinful Sunday update? its here if you didn't get a chance yet!
I also got tagged by @lizzy0305 for WIP Wednesday Monday!
WIP MONDAY
Detroit Become Human, Hurt/Comfort, Sad Gavin Reed, HankCon established, previous Hankvin, eventual Hankconvin
My love language is misery: (Ch 3 preview)
It's silent in the car since Connor and Hank left the station to go check on Gavin.  According to Detective Chen, the younger Detective had left work shortly after their ‘interaction’ outside the breakroom. Mentioning something about needing a change of clothes before walking out. Hank and Connor were quick to follow him out the doors and Connor’s earlier worry only compounded the longer they traveled.  “To answer your question from earlier, about me and Gavin having a relationship. sorta.”  “Sorta how?” Connor asks, needing to know everything to sort out a best course of action to help Gavin.  Hank exhales through his nose and keeps his eyes forward out the windshield.  “Before everything went to shit, and before me and Annie got together again. When we were both young and single, and fuckin’ everythin’ that moved… We hooked up, few times. But I thought- He never mentioned…” Hank huffs a little, struggling to find the right words, “I didn't think it was more than that… Always thought we were just playin’ but, what he said yesterday… haven't been able to get it out of my head since.” Connor analyzes Hank's increase in blood pressure and stress and places his hand on Hank’s knee in comfort.  “What did he say?”  Hank takes one hand off the steering wheel to squeeze it before returning his hand to its previous position on the wheel.  “That I only want him when I can’t have him. Specifically, when I’m already with someone else. I don't know, I guess, now that I look back and think about it, I can see why he said it. I’ve never been very good at maintaining personal ‘relationships.’” “I don't know, I'd say this relationship is going quite well,” Connor smiles. It eases enough of the tension hanging in the car and Hank chuckles.  “Yeah, I think that’s sorta the problem.” “He perceives me as a threat,” Connor interprets. “Big time.” “I see.” “We’ve always had a, complicated, relationship, Gav and I. But he's got some of his own additional demons on board. I think that might be what’s fucking him up now. Especially since uh, we aren't doing to much to hide our relationship at work.” “Yes, perhaps we have been playing a little ‘fast and loose’ with that line,” Connor agrees.  “Mmm,” Hank agrees. A few moments of silence pass in the car and then Connor has to ask,  “What happened to him?” Hank’s next exhale is obviously conflicted.  “Can’t tell ya that, I’m afraid. Sorry Con. It's his business, nothing personal. I just wouldn't feel right.” “I understand,” Connor says, because he does. No unintended subtext. PTSD is something Connor is intimately familiar with now, and he wants to come across as non threatening as possible tonight. “Are there any general things I should be aware of? I don't want to unintentionally set off an attack.”  “Just, follow my lead. And let him come to you. When he’s dissociating, he can’t always see what's going on in front of him.” More pieces slid into place for Connor with that confession.  “Like this morning, in the breakroom.” “Yeah, exactly.” It’s quiet another moment and then Connor says,  “He’s lucky to have someone like you Hank,” because he means it. Gavin doesn’t have a lot of friends at the DPD thanks to his almost 24/7 sour mood. And after today, he could probably use one.  Hank scoffs a little disbelievingly at Connor’s praise but meets him in the middle with,   “Yeah well, hopefully we can at least convince him to accept our help.”
@sweeteatercat @treeffles @disdaidal @tradedsymmetry @covenscribe @advictoriams @negative-citadel @writerwhowritesao3 and anyone else who wants to!! Have a great day everyone, I'm gonna try and get some sun today!
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mor-starz · 2 months
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Though I'm unsure this will reach the right people, I need to speak my mind about the reaction to the Shubble situation.
I am overwhelmed with reassurance by how this community is supporting Shubble.
A part of me heals every time I see everyone continue to recognize that Shubble is the most important person in the room.
I am proud that we are supporting the victim.
But I do have to stress that we haven't stopped the support of the Abuser, Wilbur Soot.
While it's amazing to see the community come together for Shubble, and that we have already hurt Wilbur's reputation.
I am still afraid it's not enough.
Wilbur still has a fanbase, he still has reach. But most importantly: He has INFLUANCE.
Though I am already seeing the effects of this community's endless support of Shelby already reaching his fanbase, I can't ignore the people who haven't left.
I know that I can't speak for everyone, but it's hard to immediately cut ties with someone like Wilbur. He was someone that I used to look up to and admire. It was painful to let go of the comfort I found in him. But I still found a way to leave him.
Right now people are slowly learning more about the situation through videos on YouTube and posts here on Tumblr, but there are still people who are blindly supporting Wilbur.
As someone who doesn't use Twitter, which is where everything is taking place, I had to learn about the situation from Tumblr users fighting over Wilbur's innocence.
Which was two days before his apology was screenshotted and reposted on Tumblr.
Before Wilbur's shitty apology, there were only two videos on YouTube discussing Shelby's VOD and Wilbur's allegations, now confirmed, of his involvement as the Abuser.
With the only informative video being a quick summary of Shelby's VOD and all the main arguments for Wilbur being the abuser. Which, as I'm now making this post, the YouTubers who made those videos have yet to update the current situation.
Though there are more "informative" videos on YouTube now, they still lack both reach and current facts. With only one in particular having both requirements, xetn4's video which I'll link here: Why do my heroes become horrible people. (youtube.com).
But while xent4 has made a solid video that has checked these boxes without being clickbait, that video still only has 10k views (as of now).
Sure that's nothing to sneeze at, but that 10k compared to Wilbur's 6 million subscribers (as of now) pales in comparison.
And that's not even mentioning how his video is the only one that doesn't feel like people trying to hop onto the "Fuck Wilbur Soot" train before it leaves, using it as clickbait for views.
But even with how ungenuine those videos are they still only have a thousand views at best.
And while posts here on Tumblr have been reaching nearly a thousand notes overnight, they still don't have the proper reach.
Again, I cannot stress enough how little reach this situation has outside of Twitter.
Because while the support for Shelby has affected Wilbur's fanbase, I'm still afraid it isn't enough.
And with every day that passes my fear that this situation will be swept under the rug and forgotten only increases because I'm already watching the numbers fade with every day.
Because as long as the situation stays on Twitter, as long as people read Wilbur's apology without knowing it's about Shelby, the less people are going to know the very real threat Wilbur poses as an abuser with a fanbase.
And yes, to clarify the apology, people are going to shrug it off without knowing the heaviness of his words. Wilbur wasn't afraid to say Shelby's name, he was ensuring a safety net, a loophole.
Because if you read his apology without any of the facts, then it ensures that you stay ignorant and continue to support him under the guise of him "getting better".
And I'm not assuming here, because I've already seen it happen with my friends. Just showing them Wilbur's isolated apology multiple of my friends have asked me why it matters so much "he's already apologized and is getting better, so what's the problem?".
The problem is that Wilbur is dangerous.
And as long as someone can read Wilbur's apology without Shelby's name or the facts, then they will continue to think that everything's taken care of and that nothing has changed.
I can already picture that without Tumblr I would also be one of those people and would still be blissfully ignorant as I happily listen to Lovejoy thinking about Wilbur's next upload.
This is the very thing that is happening as long as we allow this situation to stay contained on Twitter. Because if we don't spread the facts and get the proper reach, we are allowing Wilbur to keep his peace.
His peace which was the exact thing that kept Shelby silent in the first place, hell it might even be the reason why the VOD was taken down to begin with!
Wilbur is dangerous and shouldn't be allowed peace.
Wilbur doesn't deserve a fanbase and we need this situation to reach the proper audience, his audience before it's too late.
Always Believe the victims.
Don't support the abusers.
Support Shubble.
Stop Wilbur Soot.
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esyra · 7 months
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Haven't heard from family in days. I feel like it's time to accept they're gone. I know in my heart Palestine will, one day, be free, but it wasn't supposed to be like this.
We feared another Nakba, and it happened. 700,000 pushed out of their homes in 1948 to 1 million being forced to leave their homes in 2023.
We thought it couldn't get worse or more deadly than the Israeli invasion in 2014, and it happened. We lost 2,251 people in 50 days then. Now we're past 2,300 in one week.
What I heard most from my grandmother the first days it's that "this time is different". And I feel like a rock is crushing my heart in pieces because i've been hoping that speaking out, teaching people about the historical oppresion of Palestine would help but it's not helping. Nothing is changing.
I feel like I'm screaming into a void. There's some sympathy from people online, until I see content documenting Palestinian oppresion being flagged as 'hate speech' or check the comments of any updates on Gaza and it's: "blame it on hamas", "tell them to give up hamas", "the hamas asked for it". They're not even among civilians!!!!!
My heart feels full seeing the manifestations in favor of Palestine, then I see police forces breaking protests apart and remember that the people that can actually save Gaza don't care.
If there's nothing left to do but to watch the extermination of my people, then I'm going to beg for anyone reading this to please don't forget. Please.
Israel is hiding behind Judaism to commit genocide against Gaza. Netanyahu supported the Hamas militant group to prevent the establishment of the Palestine State, and now he's using them to justify his agenda of ethnic cleansing. He abandoned Israelis and left them to die because he cares more about seeing Gazans dead!
Every single person and institution supporting and financing Israel is complicit. I hope the deaths of every Palestinian haunts you for the rest of your lives and that you never find an ounce of forgiveness, for you do not deserve it.
Just as in the Iraq War, the US government is financing and cheering for the slaughter of millions of innocent Arab lives. The media is complicit by engaging in biased propaganda and other nuclear powers, such as the UK and Germany, are complicit too. You are fascists and war criminals and every drop of Palestinian blood is in your hands. I hope every single day, for the rest of your lives, you look in the mirror and see nothing but the blood you've helped spill.
This serves as yet another proof that not a single Western in a position of power, be it in the media or in government, sees Arabs as humans beings.
For decades, the US has comitted terrorism and crimes against humanity in the Middle East and has NEVER been held accountable. Over one million in Iraq; over 150,000 in Afghanistan; and now they'll turn Gaza into a graveyard. Punishing selected soldiers over the years does not erase the fact that the American military and its government validates their crimes during execution and are never punished for it.
Please never forget: Joe Biden is a genocidal terrorist, Rishi Sunak is a genocidal terrorist, the American Democrat Party and UK's Labour Party are led by genocidal terrorists, the European Union is led by genocidal terrorists, fuckass Walt Disney Company is led by genocidal terrorists; every celebrity that called for Palestinian death or stood by silently while ignoring our suffering is a genocidal terrorist.
May Allah protect the people in Palestine and grant the martyrs the highest level of Jannah. Wallah what keeps me here is knowing that the Akhirah is theirs. May Almighty Allah grant us imaan and Taqwa as high as the people of Gaza. Ameen.
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bunnyhugs77 · 3 months
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High Demand
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ꕤ- Pairing: Dealer! Jungkook x Reader
ꕤ- WC: 2.6k
ꕤ- A modern day Romeo and Juliet
Content: college student! reader, grumpy jk, brief texting! au, jk is lowkey whipped, drug use (marijuana), reader is his special customer, vaping, opposites attract, suggestive themes, minor jealousy, idiots in love (but they won't admit it), shot gunning, grinding, fwb?
Other Content: thigh riding, high sex, jk titty appreciation, unprotected sex (no.), hand job, soft dom kook, reader is a little needy, brief switch! koo, hickeys, pet names, spit, biting.
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Shaking your head with a small giggle as you looked at your phone before tossing it aside. You're totally his favourite. You know he's stubborn and he would never admit it but deep down he loves delivering to you the most.
Looking around your sad and dimly lit dorm, all the lights were off and your roommate was gone for the weekend doing god knows what with her weird ass biology major boyfriend who would collect rabbit tails in jars for 'science'.
You were looking at one right now actually, it seems they left one behind, on the coffee table. It was just fermenting in... you actually weren't sure and didn't want to know.
Your eyes felt like they were on fire the longer you looked at the stupid philosophy paper you were writing. The bright light from your laptop was beginning to drill into your head. Your head lolled to the side glancing at the time on your phone.
It was almost 11:30, and time for a break. Abandoning the device on the couch for a quick wake-up shower; by the time you'd gotten changed and returned to the living room, you could expect Jungkook any minute now.
Except, this is Jungkook we're talking about. He's always late.
That's why when you heard the familiar rattling of the rusty fire escape you were startled. It was a little past midnight. Climbing through the window in nothing but your basketball shorts and a white tee.
Pleasantly surprised to see Jungkook scaling the platform with a bag of takeout pinned in between his teeth. The sight of you looking down at him from where he climbed made his eyebrows raise but of course he couldn't say anything.
Not until he was finally close enough for you to grab the bag from his mouth and he stands up. You climb back inside first with him following behind with a pained sigh. "I'm so sick of coming here. Got me climbing walls like its fucking subway surfers." He curses while you place the food down on the table.
Completely ignoring him, practically drooling as you slowly peeled open the bag. "And I thought you said you weren't gonna bring me anything." He snatches the bag.
"I didn't."
You let yourself fall onto the couch, arms crossed and unbelieving. "Oh yeah? So you just coincidentally craved Wendy's and decided to haul it up three flights up a ladder from your mouth when you could've just eaten it in the car?"
"Yeah exactly." He shrugs, obviously lying.
"Give me the bag, Jungkook."
"Fine. But I'm charging you extra for the delivery and the labour of bringing it up here." He hands it to you and you roll your eyes knowing it was nothing more than a bluff.
"It's not my fault you're out of shape," you mumble unwrapping the burger. "Oh yeah? Is this what out of shape looks like to you?" He says it almost offended but challenged.
Choking briefly on your food as he lifts up his shirt, revealing the defined abs that you have such lewd memories of. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You try climbing 3 flights up a ladder and tell me it's easy." You shrug,
"Not my fault you're banned from the campus." He drops himself down beside you, reaching for the bag of fries and taking some for himself. "But it is, if you hadn't called me to drop off a stash for Angelica's dorm party maybe I could still take the stairs."
You drop your half-eaten burger with apologetic eyes, "How was I supposed to know they were doing random security checks in the lobby? At least you didn't get arrested." You pout and he scoffs.
"Bare minimum." He says via grumpy mutter under his breath so you offered up the rest of your food to him as a peace offering. A little sad that he actually took it but you were getting full anyway.
As he finished up the rest of your food you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "So do you still do drops with Angelica?" He nods with his mouth full of the last bite, stuffing the wrappers back in the bag.
"How often does she call you?-- for deliveries I mean." He chuckles, licking his lips, "Jealous?" You take the trash off the coffee table and bring it to the kitchen to toss it in the garbage. "You're delusional."
"I can't help it if I'm in high demand." He manspreads, his arms stretched over the back of the couch. "Just shut up. Do you have my pen?" He reaches for the pocket inside his leather jacket, pulling out the slim box.
Already knowing that you were going to use it now, he began to unbox it while you collected the cash you needed. "40 right?" You say handing him the small spread of bills, "Yeah, but for you, I guess I could make it 30." He shrugs conceitedly.
"Because I'm your favourite." You say and he shakes his head, "No. Because I ate your food." Which he paid for but you didn't dare to say that out loud, you were getting cheap weed.
"So who's your favourite then Jungkook?" He hands you the pen, "Listen. I don't climb up the fire escape when I do deliveries for Angelica, I make her come to me. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Trying to tug the pen out of his grasp but he holds it firm until you respond, "I guess I can work with that." He smiles softly, letting you take the first hit as his arm wraps around your shoulder.
The two of you passed the pen back and forth, with little giggles here and there and wide eyes on the episode of SpongeBob that was playing.
By now the dark living room is illuminated by nothing more than your roommate's lava lamp and a strip of purple LEDs' taped behind the TV. You could see the smoke as it floated past the few sources of light.
"Open." He directs, taking a particularly long hit, leaning into you and blowing the pungent smoke into your mouth, sucking it in from his lips.
The pen is now forgotten as it rolls between the cracks of the couch. Straddling Jungkook's muscular thigh as he flexed it every now and then, taking hits from his blueberry Ice vape and blowing it to the ceiling, giving you a prime view of his sharp jaw under the soft purple lighting.
The sight made you shake, gyrating your hips almost desperately as you chased the feeling of friction on his denim-clad thigh. "You like that? You feel good fucking yourself on my thigh?" The question was rhetorical, you were too dazed to answer him anyway.
Your heavy-lidded gaze slowly rolls up to his pretty face once you feel his hand move from your hips to gently wrap around your neck, not applying any pressure, just there to let you feel the weight of his hand. "Answer me," He says, and you fall forward "Yess, feels so good." You moan, and Jungkook has danced this dance with you enough to see you were close.
But of course, he couldn't let you cum so soon, not yet. His hands flew to your hips and pinned you down on his thigh, restricting your range of motion. "Please," You beg and he wishes he had a little more willpower but he couldn't say no to you, not when you looked so fucked out when he's barely touched you.
"Fuck. Take your shirt off." Leaning back and crossing your arms over the base of the shirt, you pried it off your body desperately. Leaving you in your black lacy bra and it pulled out a guttural groan from Jungkook's chest.
"You little whore." he grits through his clenched teeth, grip tightening on the arm of the couch nearly ripping the fabric.
This position was no longer giving him what he so desperately craved. Shrugging the jacket from off his shoulders and taking off the tank top underneath letting your eyes roam over his built upper body, oh how you wanted to just...
Without thinking your tongue striped up the expanse of his bulky pecs. This was new, but Jungkook was so high out of his mind anything and everything you did felt like he was on cloud 9.
Your mouth dropped down to wrap around his rosy nipples and you could've never anticipated the worked-up reaction you got from him. "Oh shit, shit shit." He gasps, hands gripping your waist tight enough that you're sure there will be bruises by the morning.
Letting your tongue lap around his nipples with pure hunger, an inexplicable flame burning in your core as you were finally the one who got to watch the other be reduced to a moaning mess.
His once soft moans turned a little breathy and high-pitched, His hips bucked causing you to jolt in his lap, he was getting close.
"Didn't think you'd like having your tits played with so much?" You tease him but he didn't find the humour in it. He holds you by the throat once more, this time applying a generous amount of pressure, pushing you off him.
Unbuckling his belt and you knew what that meant. He slides out of his pants, followed by the boxers that were the last barrier between your moistened lips and his throbbing cock. "Let's put that smart mouth of yours to good use, yeah?" He hums, watching as you sink to your knees, hand carefully wrapped around his base, starting with slow pumps.
"Spit on it." Doing as told, you let a wad of spit fall from your pretty, plush lips and coat the shaft of his dick, you worked your palm up his length. Already satisfied with the way his head was thrown back.
"Just like that," Reaching for the vape, he takes a few good hits, the head rush mixed with the pleasure had him seeing stars-- the object falling from his hands immediately the moment he felt the warm heat of your mouth wrap around his sensitive tip.
"Y/n-" He breathes out, almost scared, he was so close, too soon. He's never struggled to hold himself back this badly before. What were you doing to him?
The obscene sounds of you choking as you struggled to take all of him in your mouth, letting your nose touch the soft, trimmed hairs near his base. Focusing on breathing through your nose before you felt a heavy hand on the back of your head, pushing you lower.
You were quite literally slobbering on his dick, gagging with every buck of his hips. "That's it, princess. You're doing so well--Shit. Mouth feels like fucking heaven." His praise rushes to your core and has your left hand trailing down to rub yourself through your lace underwear.
The rough friction being more than enough to get you there, "I'm gonna cum, baby. Where-- Shit!-- Where do you want it?" He gasps, his hips snapping, pushing his length down your throat almost erratically. You don't answer, only hollowing your cheeks to take him deeper, making your desires clear.
Your own fingers quickening their pace, your own sounds travelling through his dick in vibrations and pushing him right over the edge with you, filling your mouth with his warm cum.
Swallowing as if it were second nature. "Stick out your tongue," He says softly. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to regain his composure from his overwhelming climax. Your tongue was out and cleared of any of his cum and it made him crazy.
He remembers the first time he'd brought an order to you over 6 months ago. He thought you were nothing more than a cute little philosophy major, never did he think he'd have you beneath him like he does right now.
Looking up at him, daring to give you an almost angelic gaze while the two of you ruined each other. Tainting each other with your own touches. "Kiss me?" You ask it so cutely, tempting him with the pout on your lips. You weren't being fair.
His body didn't give him a choice before his lips were on yours, his hips grinding into yours. The feeling of his solid dick rolling against your skin making the butterflies go ramped in your stomach.
The way you licked over his bottom lip with your own made Jungkook weak, stumbling on his elbows as he held himself up over you. Soft groans could be heard the deeper the kiss became.
Messy and intimate. Your hand crept up the back of his neck to tug at the dark locks of hair on his head. There was a loud pop and the two of you paused.
With Jungkook between your legs and with you under him, your heads turned slowly towards the coffee table where the jar was, dedicated to the fermenting rabbit tail. "What the fuck is that?" Jungkook slowly sits up, "My roommate's boyfriend's weird biology shit. I dunno, it freaks me out too." You sit up, now remembering what the two of you were in the middle of doing.
"That shit's not gonna blow up or anything right." You gently peck him on the lips but his brain seems preoccupied by the jar, "who knows," you say, kissing right under his ear and that seemed to get him to zone in on you.
Catching his bottom lip under his teeth as your kisses became more eager, suckling on a certain spot on his neck, his head falling back against his will. "Fuck, Y/n-- Don't you dare." You pull off his soft skin with a soft pop, admiring the burgundy bruise left behind.
"Oops." Your apology was ingenuine and bratty, and Jungkook hated brats.
Tearing you out of your final pieces of clothing before manhandling you into his lap. "Sit on it." He demands and you follow without question. Moaning out loud as his dick spread your lips apart like butter.
Sliding down with ease and a stretch of your velvety walls that were currently squeezing Jungkook for everything he's got and he's got nothing left, everything was yours.
"I-Shit! You feel so good, Kook!" He couldn't bother to correct you on the annoying nickname you were incessant on using. "Yeah? You like that- fuck, you feel so good." He curses, bucking his hips up into you as you raise your hips trying to match his thrusts.
He was fucking you so good, so ruthlessly, your head falls onto his shoulder and you needed more than just the couch to hold on to, your teeth sank into the muscular meat of his shoulder and his pace faltered.
"Shit shit shit! Do that again." He groans, picking up an inhumane pace that had you bouncing all over the place until he stilled you in his arms. His grunts and breathy moans came out right beside your ear only pushing you to your orgasm faster.
"J-jungkook-!" You pant, unable to speak, feeling like your insides are being rearranged, "Me too, baby. Cum with me." You finish first, and with a few more unsynchronized snaps of his hips, you were being filled to the brim with his cum.
The room is filled with nothing but the sound of muffled music playing from your neighbour's next door and laboured breaths. Jungkook gently lays you down on the couch beside him, staring into your eyes.
This felt so intimate. You felt his gaze deeper than just behind your eyes, it was as if he was looking into your soul. His eyes were tinted red as he looked at you with an adoring gaze. "You're cute." He says it casually as though he hadn't just fucked you.
Your eyes roll before they close, feeling the sleepiness begin to kick in. "Bet you say that to all your customers." Mumbling the words into his chest while he began to grin a little.
"Nope. Only to my favourite." Your eyes shoot open.
"I knew it."
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lotus-pear · 4 months
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YAAAAAYYYY ITS FINALLY HERE!!! ty guys sm again for 5k i rly appreciate it <3
rules and guidelines under the cut!
rules and due date (i've never done this before so bear w me ok!!):
-due date will be march 1st! i will accept entries a few days late dw i'm nor ur professor or smth BUT I WOULD RLY PREFER IF U GET IT DONE BY THEN (just dm me if u need more time)
-pls tag ur finished piece under #lotuspear5kdtiys and dont forget to mention my user @lotus-pear! if i neglect to reblog ur piece then pls lmk even though that probably won't happen bc i'll be checking that tag every day for new entries👹
-pls don't trace the art.. i'll be really sad if u do that :(((( if u need help at all w the posing or hands then shoot me an ask or weed ur way into my dms bc ik this is kind of a complicated piece
-anyone can participate!! u don't have to be following me or anything and it's fine if we've never interacted before
-colors and expression are completely flexible and i'd even encourage playing around w it since the final product isn't meant to mimic my style. if u can then pls try to keep the pose relatively similar although i don't mind if it's changed a little bit. whatever is most comfortable to u as the artist.
-if u guys want to see the piece without any shading or rendering then pls dm me, ik it might be easier for some ppl to just see the bare sketch or the lineart w base colors
prizes🤩 (ik this is what u guys are rly after /j):
-alr so ik everybody's all like "well what's in this for me🤨" oh my god if u would just let me explain 😐 i'll be choosing three winners and two honorable mentions amongst all the contestants
-the top three winners get a follow (yea ok kinda sucky but wtv) AND they get to commission a fully rendered piece from me of a single character of their choice for free >:) (i'll discuss the details w the winners in two months)
-the two runner ups will also get a follow from me AND they get to commission a sketch of a single character from me (again, i'll discuss what this entails in further detail when the honorable mentions are selected in two months)
————
ermmm yea i think thats it for now i'll come back and edit the post if i feel the need to add anything.. HAVE FUN GUYS I CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT U GUYS DO🫶🏼🫶🏼
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hotchscvm · 9 months
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dildo shopping
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pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
summary: aaron catches you dildo shopping.
word count: 1k
warnings: sex toys, emily being a little shit
Telling Emily about your less-than-adequate one-night stand had been a mistake. After being short with everyone for the whole day, she finally confronted you about the change in attitude and you confessed the guy you brought home the night before had gotten off without returning the favor.
She had asked when was your last orgasm and you had to think about it before telling her it had been a while. With that reply, she dragged you to the closest mall. That's how you ended up in front of a Spencer's.
You raised an eyebrow at Emily, sighing loudly as you reluctantly followed her inside. "Seriously, Em? I think I could've just bought a vibrator online or something."
"That could take days to come and you clearly need this now." Emily leads you to the back section, giving you a look. "Don't argue with me, you yelled at Rossi after he got your coffee order wrong today."
"I literally have no memory of that," you replied, trying to think if that situation had happened. "I didn't even drink coffee today."
Emily holds up an "I love Milfs" t-shirt briefly. "Because you threw it in the garbage after cussing him out in Italian. Rossi teaching you Italian really came back to bite his ass today."
"Whatever," you said, a twinge of guilt crawling into your heart. You shrugged it off knowing he'd understand and you made a mental note to get him his favorite bottle of wine to make up for it.
As you entered the back, you looked through all the dildos and vibrators lined up against the wall. Emily held up a purple dildo, reading through the description while you looked at the unimpressive dildo and vibrator wall decor, none really vibing with you.
"This one says it vibrates and is supposed to feel realistic," she mumbles, eyes narrowing as she reads through the instructions. "Six inches though, I think you can take more than that right?"
You giggled, unable to hold in a laugh. "I don't really want to think about Barney's small dick vibrating in my cunt when I want to cum, Em. Or Thanos for that matter."
She makes a face, putting the purple vibrating dildo back. "What a strange image. Thanks for ruining Barney for me."
Chuckling, you check out the lingerie a nearby mannequin is wearing. It's black and lacy, and while it holds up the titties, it's see-through and the panties are crotchless. Taking off its panties, you hold it up to your body. "Hey, this is cute isn't it?"
"Very cute, you should get it," Emily responds, looking through the hundred dildo options.
"Yes, you should."
You freeze, your ears instantly knowing who that voice belonged to. Emily looks behind you without turning her head, holding back a laugh at your clear mortification. A second passes and you turn around to see Aaron fucking Hotchner, your stoic boss and friend standing in front of you, looking at the lingerie you had pressed up against you.
You can't help but laugh awkwardly. "Hotch? What're you doing here?"
He's amused and you can tell because he's eyes are twinkling and the corner of his lips are twitching as if fighting the urge to smile. "I was picking something up for Jessica at Bath and Body Works when I saw you guys and wanted to say ... hi.”
"Wonderful." you deadpanned, placing the crotchless panties back on top of the mannequin's head.
Before either of you could say anything else, Emily joins in, a smile so smug and big it would've been hard to miss from space. "I'm going to look at that section of toys. Maybe you'll like a blue one instead so you can imagine it's Jake Sully instead."
She's too far away when you think about slapping her, already moving towards the side section of even more vibrators and dildos, a few naughty shirts display that separated you and Hotch from her. After glaring a hole into the back of her head, you turned back to Hotch, wanting nothing more than to melt on the floor and die.
"I-" you start, unable to finish; just like the night before.
He begins to look through the wall of sex toys, brows furrowing at the choices. Your cheeks redden when he picks up the infamous rose vibrator momentarily before placing it back down. It looked so tiny in his big hands and you wanted nothing more than to have his big hands in you. "What kind of toys do you like?"
It takes you a second to comprehend his question, still stuck on him seeing you shopping for things a boss should never know about his employees. "Um, whatever, really. I haven't really had one since college."
Hotch nods as if you were talking about a case and not about orgasming on a fucking sex toy. "I see."
You watch in silence as he studies the choices again, fully concentrated. He picks up a packaged dildo, regular colored, and holds it up to inspect it. You watch him eye the silicone dick before placing it back and picking up an identical one, only this one is thicker and wider.
"So ... you ever try one of these before with someone?" you asked, unable to deal with the silence but now wishing you hadn't spoken after that horrible sentence.
Thankfully, he chuckles, eyes not straying from the description on the packaging. "No, I haven't. I never really did have the time or someone who was willing to try something like this out."
"Ahh," you reply like a fucking idiot.
After another few moments of inspecting the dildo, he hands it to you with a smile. You take it instinctively, confused and gobsmacked at the gesture. His eyes are twinkling with amusement and something else you can't place. "That one should be the closest."
It’s about eight inches long, quite thick and has veins decorating the length. The head of it is big and you nearly salivate at the thought of getting off to it tonight.
"The closest to what?"
Hotch just grins in return and starts to turn away and walk out. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun.”
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moonstruckme · 2 months
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I’d love to see you write James and reader who’ve suffered the ‘never the right time’ trope, and finally, it’s the right time. It’s like so soft and just a moment of peace, like ‘finally, finally, it’s our time’. I have literally no ideas further than that, but I know you’d kill this Mae <3
hope you’re having a lovely day!
Thanks for requesting my love! Also, is that a new theme I see?? It's giving me renaissance vibes, like the clouds are going to part and there'll be an oracle and it'll be you ! I'm so here for it
cw: alcohol
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words
Sirius and Remus keep fighting over who gets to play the music. Sirius more pointedly, tracking Remus down every time he has to change the record, whereas Remus just sneaks over while his boyfriend is occupied to switch it out again. Now Fleetwood Mac’s come on, and James can only assume Lily has finally stationed herself by the record player. 
A knock sounds at the door. Someone must have ordered pizza, he thinks. Anyone who goes to these things knows that Sirius always leaves the door unlocked. Being the closest to the door, James answers it. 
He thinks he stops breathing when he finds you on the other side, clutching a dissolving paper bag in both hands and nearly wet through. 
“Oh.” You look as surprised to see James as he is to see you. Which doesn’t seem strictly fair, because the last time he checked, he spends practically all of his time here and you live far away. Have since you took that cushy job right after school ended. “Hi, James.” 
“Hi.” His voice is mystified, tinged with the joy of the smile he can’t repress. “What’re you doing here, sweetheart?” 
“Remus invited me.” 
James stares at you. You look somehow exactly the same and yet impossibly more beautiful than he remembers. It’s odd seeing you out of your old school uniform, in a very adult-like coat that comes down to your knees and ties primly at the waist. Your hair is slicked straight by the rain, stuck in damp tendrils to your shoulders, and he swears your face has changed, too, a droplet of rainwater curving over a cheekbone he doesn’t remember being as visible when you were younger. 
“Um, can I come in?” 
“Yes! Yeah.” He steps out of the doorway, and your shoes squelch slightly as you wipe them off on the rug inside the door. James looks around as if for help. He thinks he spots Remus’ head poking out of the kitchen, but then it disappears. “Here, let me take your coat.” 
“Thanks.” You undo the tie for yourself, letting James pull it off your arms. “It’s really good to see you.” 
“You too.” He’s beaming; he can’t stop. “God, I just can’t believe you’re here. Are you in town for a visit?” 
“No, I—” You pause to give him a bemused sort of smile. “Did Remus not tell you? I moved back.” 
James feels like his chest has been hollowed out. Like someone’s taken out his heart and put the sun back in its place. 
“Really?” It comes out more breath than word. He fumbles for his voice back. “You’re back for good?” You nod, biting down on a smile. “When did you get here?” 
“A couple weeks ago,” you say, looking down to step out of your shoes. 
“What?” James’ tone is doing nothing to disguise his astonishment. He’s in no state to try and conceal it. “And we’re not hearing from you until now? You’ve only spoken to Remus?” His hurt goes unvoiced: Why didn’t you come find me?
You look sheepish. “I just ran into him at the store yesterday.” 
“Why didn’t you call?” 
“I didn’t want to assume…” 
You look like you’re trying to shrink away, but James gives chase, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. The cold of your clothes and hair sinks into him, and you both shiver. He only holds you tighter for it, scrubbing a hand up and down your shoulder blade. 
“You should have called,” he says next to your ear. “You know we’ll always want you here, love. We’ve missed you.” I’ve missed you. 
“I missed you guys, too,” you reply, squeezing him back. The paper bag you’re holding digs into his spine. 
James gives himself a couple more seconds before he releases you, taking the bag and unearthing a bottle of wine. 
“Nice of you,” he acknowledges. “Sirius will appreciate it, he loves reds. We should get you warmed up, yeah? Do you want some of this, or I could make you a hot buttered rum?”
You look like you could melt in relief. “A hot drink sounds amazing.” 
“Great.” He grins at you, knowing you have to go but unwilling to let you. If you leave his sight now you might very well disappear for another several years. After a second, his better sense wins and he juts a chin towards the stairs. “Go find something to wear. It’s the last door on the left, and the closet across from the bed should have things that’ll fit you.” 
James sees your protests in your face before they start spewing from your mouth. “Oh, I shouldn’t—” 
“If you go into the kitchen all dripping wet, Remus will only bring you up there himself. Save yourself the time, love. He’d want you to help yourself, trust me.” 
You chew your lip, hesitant, but then another shiver takes you, and James gives you a good-natured shove towards the stairs. 
“Alright,” you capitulate, going. “Thanks, I’ll be right back.” 
“No hurry,” he calls up after you. Then high-tails it for the kitchen. 
“I cannot believe you’ve set me up for ambush like this,” he says as the door swings open for him. His two closest friends look up with expressions of equal guilelessness, though Sirius is putting on far more a show of surprise than his boyfriend. 
“I had no idea!” He insists while James stalks to the cabinet, helping himself to a mug and the supplies to make your drink. “Moony kept it from me, you know I’d have told you if I knew.” 
James glances up at him, then shakes his head, reaching over to flick the kettle on. “No, I don’t believe it. You’ve both been colluding against me.” 
“It’s only against you if it’s not good for you,” says Remus. “And I don’t see how y/n being here is all that bad for you.”  
“Yeah, I’d have thought you’d be fairly chuffed about it,” Sirius agrees, forgoing the innocent act as smirk curves his lips. 
“I am.” James blows out a breath. “I just wasn’t expecting to see her. I didn’t even know she’d moved back.” 
Remus shrugs, cracking open the oven to check on something inside. “Well, I think she might have been afraid to seek you out.” 
“Why would she be?” 
Amber eyes meet James’ with disbelief written all over them. “You know why,” he says softly. 
The kettle finishes boiling, and James turns to pour it over the contents of your mug. “Well, I directed her to Sirius’ closet as retribution.” 
He hears a gasp behind him. “You prick—”
The door to the kitchen swishes open, and you breeze in wearing one of Sirius’ hoodies. 
“Sirius!” 
“Hi!” He’s all smiles as he folds you into a hug, glaring sharply at James over your shoulder. “Fuck, haven’t you become stunning? It’s been awhile, gorgeous.” 
“It has,” you agree, looking slightly flustered by Sirius’ complimenting. Which, James notes, is an improvement over your school days; you were never able to weather it then. “It’s so good to see you.” 
You go to Remus next, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders fondly. “Glad you could come,” he says. 
“Thanks for having me.” Your eyes move between the three of them, seeming to note their placement throughout the kitchen. “Sorry, were you all busy talking about something?” 
“Actually,” Sirius says, “Remus and I were just canoodling when James interrupted, quite rudely I think. If you’re going to join the party, please take him with you.” 
“Alright.” James takes your drink and grabs a cider for himself, nudging you towards the door. “No need to be a dick, just come find us later.” 
Sirius winks at you both as James ushers you out, Remus sending him a long-suffering look from by the oven. 
“Nice to know some things don’t change,” you laugh, finding a space on the couch for you both. 
“Yeah,” James sets your drink down in front of you, “I doubt those two ever will.” 
“Thanks. Ooh, this is nice.” You take the clear mug between your hands, lifting it up to admire the liquid inside. “When did Remus get so posh?” 
“Well, Sirius lives here now.” 
“Oh!” Your eyes widen, surprise and maybe a little of something else. “Wow, that’s so lovely for them. Then, is this Sirius’ sweatshirt I’m wearing?” 
James chuckles. “You could tell, huh?” 
“None of those looked like Remus’ clothes. Are we punishing him for something?” 
He raises his own drink to his lips, hiding his smile. They’ve always come especially easily around you. “Perhaps.” 
You hum, take a sip from your mug, and hum again. “Shit, this is really good. Thank you.” 
The praise settles comfortably in James’ stomach, as warm and mind-fuzzing as if he’s had a gulp of your drink himself. “Anytime, sweetheart.” 
This time, he notices your eyes flicker away from his at the endearment. “So,” you say conversationally, “how’s Lily?” 
Ouch. James glances behind you to where Lily has pulled a chair over near the record player. She’s sipping from a glass of red wine that’s only a couple of shades darker than her hair, smiling at something Pandora’s saying. 
“She’s good,” he says. Then, somewhat abruptly, “We’re not together anymore.” 
Your eyes flit to his, something almost like guilt twinging across your features. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” you say. The caring in your face is nearly too much; James wants to take it between his hands and kiss it all over. “Are you okay?” 
He gives you a smile. “Yeah,” he says sincerely. Perhaps with too much feeling, because your eyebrows bunch slightly. “It happened a long time ago. Not long after you left, actually.” 
“Oh.” You nod, and James finds himself watching you more carefully than he normally might. He waits for the sense of bliss he’s feeling to find its way into your expression, but you still appear hesitant. “Can I ask if something happened? You just, you were together for so long…”
It’s true. Most people they knew, even Remus and Sirius, thought Lily and James would be married someday. In the end, it just seemed that they’d been together for so long that their relationship had become a routine instead of a choice. They were cohabitors more than partners, and when they were doing everything they could to spend time away from their shared home, Lily had been the only one brave enough to call them both out on it. 
“We just wanted different things,” James says. Namely, Lily wanted Mary and James wanted you. Had for too many years. 
You make a soft sound. “I suppose that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” 
“Yeah,” he agrees. “So, come on—you’ve had my update, let’s have yours. How did you like your job?” 
You pair your shrug with a small smile. “Not very well, honestly. I don’t think I really fit there.” James tsks sorrily, and you shrug again. “It’s just as well. I missed you all too much. I wanted to give it a try there and I did, but I’m glad to be back.” 
“Ah, well,” James says. “I suppose that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” 
It’s a terrible joke, but you laugh, the sound like water trickling over stone. He feels the smile spread on his face. 
“I really have missed you,” he says, earnestness aching in the back of his throat. 
A similar sentiment reflects back at him in your eyes. “Same here.” 
“I’m glad you’re here.” 
“I’m glad I am, too.” 
“Would you want to get coffee tomorrow?” With anyone else the invitation would seem abrupt, but your smile looks something like relief. You’ve both been waiting for this for too long. 
“That sounds nice,” you say. 
“Great.” James can hear the love in his own voice. It’s probably written all over his face, too. Just as well. “There’s a new cafe by my place that has really good almond croissants, would you want to meet there?” 
You nod, not trying to downplay your happiness. His heart swells to see it. “I love almond croissants,” you say. 
James remembers. It’s one of the things he’s glad to know about you. There was a small, censured part of him that took satisfaction in knowing those things even when he was with Lily. It’s not something he’s ever been proud of, but a spark of that satisfaction comes back now. 
“Perfect,” he replies. Behind you, Remus is letting Sirius pull him out of the kitchen. Remus folds himself into an unoccupied chair, where Sirius happily sprawls across his lap. They’re both pretending not to be watching you. “How’s one?” 
“Not soon enough,” you say without hesitation. You take another sip of your drink, miming unconcern, but your eyes are playful. “Ten?” 
James feels like his face could split in half. “Ten it is.” 
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awearywritersworld · 5 months
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the boy spurned as evil and the girl of his youth
sukuna x reader w/c: .6k tags/warnings: angst, i'm afraid. young!sukuna. depictions of blood. ur dad's an asshole. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: please check out the lovely artwork by @demonzaemon that inspired this piece!!! i'm definitely down to write a second part about a reunion, so let me know if that would interest anyone! masterlist read part two here
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thinking about sukuna at 10 years of age— he's been abandoned by his family and scorned by his village because of the strange way he looks. he has to steal stale bread during the night to survive. he has to take shelter in the ruins of an abandoned home. he has to bear the harsh elements. he has to do it all alone.
that is, until he meets a curious little girl by the riverside during the spring. he'd found an old, frayed fishing net the day prior, and while he hopes to catch something he can eat for dinner, he catches your attention instead.
and you marvel at him as if he's the most remarkable thing you've ever laid eyes on. you're poking at the harsh lines that mar his skin. you're pulling at his pink hair because you're convinced it's fake. you're counting his arms as if the extra two will eventually disappear.
he doesn't mind though. he's too caught up in the fact that someone's touching him. that he can feel the warmth of your skin against his. he can hardly believe it when you scamper off, calling over your shoulder gleefully, "i'll meet you here again tomorrow!"
after that, everything changes and he finds himself in your company more often than not. you sneak your meals out of the house each day, even though your portions are meager. you bring him a few of your blankets, even though it means you're cold at night. what he appreciates most though? the fact you look at him like he's human.
then, what is simultaneously the best and worst night of his life happens. you fall asleep beside him in the overgrown grass near the river. its early autumn by now and the stars are twinkling in the sky, so your body clings innocently to his, seeking his warmth.
he takes the opportunity to study you in the moonlight. to commit every detail of your face to memory. he considers the fact that you feel safe enough to fall asleep beside him, even when every other person in the world has deemed him evil and sinister.
eventually he's lulled to sleep by your slow and gentle breaths, but not before coming to the decision that he is yours and you are his. and while you're the only thing in the world that the young boy has to his name, he's okay with that.
then, all too soon, he's awoken by yelling and it's not a moment later that you're ripped from his arms by your father. he's screaming about how you've defiled yourself by associating with such a despicable fiend.
"no, he's my friend! he's good!" you wail, your arms stretched toward sukuna in a plea for help. "don't let him take me! please!"
and he tries. he really, really tries. he runs after your father, beating at his back in an attempt to free you, but he's just too small. his body is weak from years of malnourishment. the older man pushes him to the ground with little effort and sukuna's palms slice open upon the sharp stones protruding from the earth.
crimson spills from the wounds, but he can hardly feel it. the ache in his chest is too consuming. too agonizing. it's unfair that such a little body should house so much pain, but that seems to be the story of his relatively short life.
so as he calls out to you, his voice broken and desperate, he knows it's the last time he'll ever see you and he's forced to come to terms with the universe's cruel edict— that he deserves to spend his life alone.
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shlonguru · 3 months
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Lucifer x Fem!Reader - White Party in the Lust Ring
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Pairing : Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader (Alastor's sister)
Summary : Being Alastor's little sister can have its perks, but if you're fighting with him it can push you close to certain unexpected people.
Warning : 18+, Smut, oral, creampie, teasing, overstimulation, cunnilingus, daddy issues, daddy kink (shocker), edging, praise kink.
Word count : 5029 words (oml it keeps getting worse)
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My hyperfixation on Lucifer is far from over (help) but I have received some requests that all contributed to this smut so I'm sorry that I couldn't reply to one specific request but I would like to thank you all. I hope you all enjoy~ Once again I want to thank @wipmoop for their amazing artwork for the cover! If you wanna check out the uncensored version of the cover, it'll be up on their page soon, they're genuinely awesome, check them out with love ♥ Shlonguru out! o/
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~ At the Hazbin Hotel ~
Life was hard being Alastor’s little sister. He might have been very good at protecting you but he made sure your freedom was limited in return. In fact, you weren’t even sure if he protected you because he cared about you or because he was territorial. And he was hard to bargain with. You were living with him amongst others at the Hazbin Hotel and were more than bored during your days until you were offered a job working as Lucifer’s assistant. The only reason Alastor didn’t make a fuss about you working there, despite him absolutely hating Lucifer’s guts, was because Lucifer was powerful enough to make sure you were safe at all times.
This morning, you had just been in a fight. Some of your friends had invited you to a fun night out and Alastor had noticed you packing more than usual on your way to Lucifer’s. He had noticed as he walked by your room.
“Aren’t you packing a little heavy today?” He inquired.
You rolled your eyes already knowing what was coming.
“Yeah, my friends are going out in the Lust Ring tonight, so I packed another outfit and other stuff so I can change before I join them.” You replied.
“The Lust Ring? I don’t think so, dear. Do you want to end up like Angel Dust, with an Overlord owning your soul?” He calmly replied.
“Yeah, you’re right! Which is why I have the perfect solution for that, how about I don’t sell my soul to anyone? That should do it I think.” You stated snarkily, zipping up your bag.
“I’ve already explained to you that it isn’t that simple and that you have more value to the eyes of most people in hell than you seem to realize.” He countered, slightly losing his cool.
“Listen, I’m a fully grown adult, I know how to take care of myself.” You calmly tried to explain.
“You might be a grown adult, but you are not nearly as strong as you would need to be to take care of yourself.” He raised an eyebrow, knowing he had made a good point.
“Huh… So, what do you want me to do exactly? Rot here for the rest of eternity? No, I’m going out.” You started making your way out of the hotel when he snapped his fingers, making your bag teleport next to him.
You angrily walked back and grabbed it again.
“Stop that, will you? I said I’m going out!” You walked away only for him to snap his fingers again, repeating the same process.
You turned around red of anger. “You’re gonna make me late to work!” You shouted.
“You’re lucky I let you work for this minikin at all.” He replied defiantly.
“Fuck you!” You yelled, flipping him the finger and leaving, slamming the hotel’s door behind you and choosing to abandon your bag.
~ At Lucifer’s Tower ~
You got along with your boss really well, you both were very cheerful beings and your personalities just clicked, he had offered you the job of assistant because he was “having a hard time handling all of his important business”. You knew by now that he was actually just working on his ducks so much that he was never able to handle the rest of his business on time. He had also offered you the job when he saw how bored you were at the hotel, that and your common trait of fighting with Alastor almost every time you were in the same room. You enjoyed working for him and he was very grateful to have you.
You arrived at Lucifer’s tower a little late, but it wasn’t unusual for you. Lucifer was busy designing a new duck in his office when he heard you arrive and came to greet you.
“Hello y/n!” How are we doing in this fine morning?” He smiled, always happy to see you.
“Hello Sir, I’m ok.” You replied in an irritated tone, the difference with your usual cheerful self, alarming Lucifer.
“What’s up? You seem like, super down.” He questioned.
“Yeah, I got into a fight with Al.” You replied coldly, removing your coat and hanging it.
“Oh, that bastard, it’s like he can’t start his day if he hasn’t ruined someone else’s.” He rolled his eyes at the mention of Alastor.
“Right? That asshole...” You let out.
“What did he do this time?” He crossed his arms, resting his shoulder against the wall near you.
“My friends are going out tonight in the Lust Ring and they invited me, but he won’t let me go cause he’s afraid I’m gonna end up in danger. Fuck, I can’t do anything. Hell is literally filled with bad people, I can’t just stay locked up forever.” You whined.
“Wait, you frequent the Lust Ring?” He asked curiously. You looked at him and noticed a hint of red on his face.
“I would like to! But he won’t let me!” You moaned. “Why? Is that surprising?” You added.
“No…” He looked away, clearly embarrassed. “I guess I had never seen you under that light before.” He smiled. “But you are a bad bitch, so it’s not too surprising.” He finished.
Lucifer paused, looking away, kind of hesitant.
“What if I accompanied you? That way, he couldn’t say he’s afraid you’d end up in danger, you’d be with the strongest being of Hell~” He offered in a self-assured tone.   
“Really? You’d do that?” Your eyes sparkled at the offer.
“Sure! it’s been a while since I came by and said hi to Ozzie anyways.” He chuckled.
You paused for a second and remembered you had left without your bag.
“I left all of my clothes and stuff at the hotel though.” You sighed.
“I’ll get someone to go get your stuff for you, how does that sound?” He smiled.
“You’re the best!” You cheered excitedly hugging him. He smiled and hugged you back.
“Is there a theme to this party?” He asked.
“It’s a white party.” You smiled.
“Not very surprising of the Lust Ring if you ask me.” He stated.
You nodded and proceeded with your day, your mood back its usual merry self.
By the end of the day, you had gotten your bag back and had gotten ready at Lucifer’s place.
He was waiting in his living room for you to finish getting ready in the guest room. The blonde demon was wearing an all-white suit made perfectly for him.
He saw you come out of the room and looked like he had stopped breathing.
You were wearing a white dress that was perfectly balanced between cute and sexy, the contrast with your crimson mane was sumptuous. You had done your make-up for the party, a black smokey, making your usually ethereal ruby eyes look fierce.
“You like it?” You smiled, showing off your outfit.
“Oh damn…” He wiped his forehead, looking warm as he ventilated himself with his hand as he stood up. “You’re hot!” He blurted, catching himself and putting his hand over his mouth. “I mean, not that you usually aren’t, trust me I love your work outfits, you look very preppy it’s great, but you look, I mean, sexy!” He looked embarrassed at how surprised he was.
“Thank you?” You questioned. “Indeed, I wouldn’t wear that to work.” You chuckled. “It wouldn’t be very convenient don’t you think?” You teased, walking up to him. You were close in height, but you still won by a few inches.
“Right! Oh lord land me strength…” He muttered to himself.
“What was that?” You asked.
“Nothing! Let’s go!” He handed you his arm and you left together for the party.
~ At the White Party ~
You arrived at the party, it was huge, everything was screaming lust, and the whole venue was gorgeous. As you walked in, Lucifer spotted Asmodeus, with whom he had fun reconnecting with Asmodeus and even introduced the two of you.
“And this is y/n!” He introduced you after chatting for a while.
“Oh, is this your girl?” Ozzie asked boldly.
You unintentionally blushed and smiled to hide it.
“No…” He replied much more flushed than you. “She’s my assistant.” He added.
“You mean your assistant in bed, right? Cause you two got that chemistry if you know what I mean, it’s like, hard not to notice.” Ozzie continued, noticing how awkward you had both become, making him smirk.
“Stop it Ozzie! I told you it’s not like that.” Added Lucifer seriously before turning to you awkwardly. “Sorry about that y/n.”
“Yeah okay, Luci, then welcome to the Lust Ring to you and your totally-just-platonic-friend then.” He smiled mischievously before leading you to your VIP zone with your group of friends.
You and your friends enjoyed the party, and so did Lucifer. You danced with him, drank with him, in fact, you were all feeling tipsy and at this point acted much more casual with him than you thought possible, though he still made sure you didn’t go overboard. In fact, he had had way more than you but looked completely unaffected, however. You had noticed you two were getting closer and closer as the night went on. You enjoyed grinding against him and he enjoyed it just as much, as well as showing off his own dance moves. And after a few hours, you both sat down at your booth.
“Wow Luci! Thank you so much for tonight you sure know how to party!” You thanked him.
“Thanks! It’s been a while, but it seems like you don’t forget good habits.” He smiled.
“I can’t believe my dickhead of a brother would keep me from experiencing all of this.”
“I mean he sure is a dickhead, don’t get me wrong, but I think it’s fair that he doesn’t want anything bad happening to you.” He replied calmly.
“Well, I guess it depends on what you consider a bad thing?” You smiled teasingly at him.
“What do you mean?” He asked tilting his head slightly.
“Let’s just say I’m sure there are things he wouldn’t want happening to me that I wouldn’t consider bad in the slightest.” You looked at Lucifer intently getting a little closer.
“Oh yeah?” He said a smile forming in the corner of his mouth. “Such as what?” He leaned towards you slightly raising an eyebrow.
You took your opportunity and leaned in, pressing your lips against his, surprising him slightly but he immediately reciprocated, running his fingers through your hair. He pulled you slightly closer to him and you rested your hands against his chest. After a moment he started kissing you deeper, getting greedier by the seconds. He placed a hand on your cheek, and you felt his tongue slide in your mouth and your whole body became warm from the inside. You shared this deep kiss for what felt like hours but had probably been minutes before you slowly pulled away, your half-lidded eyes looking at Lucifer with nothing but lust.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, or I won’t be able to restrain myself.” He said looking back at you, gently holding your chin up, looking as lustful as you did.
You laid your hand on his thigh, squeezing it softly and earning a groan from him.
“Are you sure that’s what you want y/n?” He asked one last time. “Our relationship might never be the same.”
You looked him dead in the eyes. “Fuck our old relationship.” You smiled.
He smiled back. “Alright, then.”
And with that he deployed his six wings and took off, surprising you and holding you princess style. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and looked at him, you could tell from the serious and determined look on his face that he meant business.
You started kissing and sucking on his neck, making him shudder lightly.
“Hold on y/n, I’m going as fast as I can, but if you distract me, it’s only going to take longer.” He pleaded.
“I’m just trying to keep myself busy…” You whispered, licking his earlobe, making his flight pattern weaker.
“Okay, enjoy yourself, I’ll make sure to not restrain myself later…” He added, still looking ahead.
“I would hate it if you did.” You countered, reaching down, and placing your hand on his crotch. His pants were as tight as they could get and what was underneath was throbbing. He immediately stopped mid-flight, making you yelp in surprise.
“Now you’ve done it y/n.” He changed positions, wrapping your legs around him, pressing his crotch against yours and moving his hands to your ass. He proceeded to kiss you deeply, moaning softly as he felt your soft lips against his. You melted into the kiss, feeling how wet your own crotch had gotten already. He pulled out after a moment and looked deep into your eyes, you could see the desire burning in his eyes, though he managed to keep himself more composed than you.
“As much as I’d love to display such an amazing show to all of Hell, it is not really my style.” He smiled. “So, you’re going to be a good girl and behave so I can get us where we need to be.” He looked at you seriously.
You nodded.
“Good.” He smiled, before going ahead and moving you back to princess style as he continued forward.
~ Back at Lucifer's Tower ~
It was hard, but you had managed to keep your hands to yourself for the remaining 2 minutes of the flight.
Lucifer landed through his huge panoramic windows that were left open into his bedroom at the top of his tower.
You had never been into his personal bedroom, mostly just his office, but it was beautiful. The red theme was very elegant, and his Caesar size bed looked incredibly comfortable. You walked inside amazed at how luxurious everything looked.
“Y/n?” You heard from behind you.
You turned around only to be faced with Lucifer’s glowing figure, lit from behind by the moonlight. He had a plotting look on his face, a devilish smile perfectly formed on his confident face. He was calmly walking towards you, rolling up his sleeves.
“I hope you had fun with your little mid-flight teasing…” He fake-chuckled then sighed. “…because it’s time to take responsibility.” The smile was still there but his expression was much more serious.
You didn’t move, you just waited for him to walk up to you. When he reached you, he grabbed your face with both hands, kissing you softly at first. You kissed him back, but the kiss quickly turned into a much more heated one. You kept kissing as you stepped towards his bed, you removed his jacket from him, and he unzipped your dress as he approached the bed.
Your dress fell to the ground, exposing your white laced lingerie. As soon as your dress hit the ground you had found yourself with your legs wrapped around his hips once more, his hands holding you up effortlessly as you made out. You reached the bed, and he laid you on it. He took a good look at your figure, your expression, your curves, your hair.
“Stunning.” He whispered.
“You’re not bad yourself.” You smiled.
“Thanks!” He exclaimed, removing his shirt and exposing his fit figure. You stared just long enough for him to start smirking at you. “Are you okay?”
“Nope.” You answered truthfully.
He giggled.
“You’re funny, now get ready.”
You hadn’t had time to realize what he meant when you felt your thighs get lifted and spread with enough force to surprise you. You didn’t have time to vocally question what was happening that you felt your panties being pushed to the side and Lucifer give a slow lick to all of your womanhood, making you moan louder than you were comfortable with. You rapidly pressed your hands on your mouth. As soon as you had done so you heard him.
“Nuh huh~” He hummed.
“What?” You questioned looking down at Lucifer buried between your thighs, though not doing anything to you anymore.
“Remove those hands and let me hear it.” He looked playful and serious.
You slowly removed your hands, and he immediately went back to his business, licking you thoroughly, you could tell not only did he know what he was doing but he was also greatly enjoying himself while doing so. It was like he could feel your pleasure, giving him the ability to always adjust perfectly. You felt his tongue enter you and go deeper than you thought possible. Your moans were getting louder, he knew what spots were the most sensitive, and he teased them, building your pleasure. He loved the control he had over how you were feeling, he ate you out as tenderly and as roughly as you needed to turn you into a moaning mess, grabbing at the sheets. Every time he felt you get closer, he started teasing another spot, building your frustration alongside your pleasure. It drove you insane and soon enough you found yourself pleading with him to let you come.
“Luci please!” You implored.
“Yes, what is it love?” He asked innocently, playing coy.
“Come on please, stop teasing me.” You pleaded.
“I wanna hear you say it.” He smiled, enjoying the situation to the fullest. “What do you want me to do?” He added.
“Luci please let me come!” You begged; any ounce of pride you had having left your body at this point.
Lucifer got visibly aroused at those words, his eyes turning red for an instant as he went back at it, passionately eating you out and making you come the next moment, unleashing all your pent-up pleasure as your back arched into the leg-shaking orgasm. You moaned his name loudly as you melted into the mattress. You could feel him smile as he finished enjoying you.
You were catching your breath and recovering as Lucifer started kissing up your body, your stomach, chest then neck. That’s when you heard him speak softly.
“That’s for teasing me.” He looked into your eyes before landing a soft kiss on your lips.
You were too astounded to talk back.
At this point his crotch was pressing against yours and he looked more excited than ever.
“Good start now let’s get a little more serious.” He grinned before flipping the both of you making you straddle him as he laid back. You realized at this moment just how much he had planned for you tonight.
“Hmm…we won’t need that.” He snapped his finger making any remnants of clothes either of you wore vanish, exposing your breasts to him for the first time. His eyes devoured you as you felt a false sense of control back. You rested your hands on his chest, pressing your breasts together.
“Is everything okay?” You asked with a teasing tone.
“Nope.” He replied, realizing what you were doing. You grabbed his hand and pressed it against your breast.
“Want some of that, Daddy?” You sneered.
He squeezed your breast in a way that sent jolt in all your body, letting a moan escape your mouth, you face immediately flushing.
“Oh, what was that?” He smirked then proceeded to fondle your breasts again, making you feel weak as you moaned.
“I don’t understand how you do this!” You whined.
“Do what?” He said as he did it again, sending jolts up your body.
“You’re not using dirty tricks on me, are you?” You asked skeptically.
He looked at you and laughed audibly, before composing himself and propping himself up with one hand, placing his mouth next to your ear.
“No y/n, I’m just that good.” He declared confidently. Your face went crimson as you felt embarrassed and tried to hold your moans in as he continued teasing your now rock-hard nipple.
“I mean, besides the fact that I’m pretty confident in my own skill, that must surely mean that we are particularly compatible, don’t you think?” He asked nonchalantly.
You nodded, trying your best not to get lost in the pleasure this tease was inflicting upon you.
Your eyes widened lightly as you realized that your clothes having now been removed from the equation, your private parts were now directly in contact, you used that to your advantage and softly grinded against his shaft, earning a loud moan from him, surprising the both of you.
“I guess you’re right.” You smiled from the corner of your mouth.
He grinned lightly blushing before grabbing your waist and flipping you around as if you were a feather. You were still on top of him but you had now found yourself in a 69, your crotch inches from his face and his throbbing member right in front of you. You didn’t need to look at him to know he was proud of it.
You didn’t want to give him time to take control, so you grabbed the base of his shaft and took his tip in your mouth. You heard him groan as you swirled your tongue around it before giving his cock a hungry lick from the bottom up.
“Easy there, we have all night.” He cheerfully declared, panting softly.
You ignored him and kept enjoying yourself, savoring him like a lollipop.
“I see how it’s- gonna be.” He exclaimed; you could feel him struggling to fake his composure.
In one movement he pulled you even closer to his face and spread your pussy before passionately starting to eat you out again. You quickly felt weak, you pulled his cock out of your mouth, letting a long moan escape as a trail of saliva still linked your mouth to his head.
“Take it easy, I wouldn’t want you to choke~” He taunted.
“Don’t worry about me, this is nothing.” You replied with conviction.
You proceeded to lower your mouth on his cock all the way to the base, his whole member tickling more than the entrance of your throat.
“Oh god-“You had taken him by surprise, forcing an intense moan out of him, as he gripped the sheets tightly, pausing his own activity.
“Oh dear, you might wanna slow down a little.” He gasped.
You had him and you knew it, you moved in swift motions, your tongue wrapped around his shaft, hitting all the way down each time as you felt his body contract and his dick pulsate more and more.
“Holy shit y/n wait, I’m gonna- “He moaned as you felt his cum explode your mouth. This surprised you as you had been so focused on getting back at him, but you swallowed everything. Enjoying every bit of it, sucking him dry, or so you thought.
You finished swallowing and peeked at him, his head laying on the mattress as he caught his breath. He noticed you and grinned through his panting. “Nice play Y/n, impressive even, I hope you had fun.”
“I very much did, thank you.” You replied cheekily.
“Cause now it’s my turn.” He announced. You immediately felt two fingers enter your hole. He voluntarily pressed hard against your G-spot, the sensation so intense you screamed in pleasure. He grabbed your thigh tightly with one hand and fingered you relentlessly with the other. The pleasure overwhelming as you helplessly melted into it.
“Luci…please-“ You attempted but were cut.
“I don’t wanna hear it.” He continued. You grabbed his thigh tightly as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge.
“Come on go ahead, come for me.” He groaned, his calm and sarcastic demeanor replaced progressively by a heated passion. You tried your best to resist but it was pointless. You turned around, catching a glimpse of him, and were caught off guard, witnessing his horns out and his eyes red while he looked like he was intensely enjoying himself. He pulled out his fingers and proceeded to eat you with all his might, his tongue hitting your spot just right to make you climax against his mouth as he savored all of it.
He finished enjoying himself while you recuperated from it all. When you peeked at him again, he had gone back to his usual self.
“Do you often get all red and…horny, I guess?” You asked.
He flipped you around, pressing you against his chest, face to face.
“What was that? Oh, you mean my horns and stuff? Only when I get heated. Do you not like it? Cause I can try to tone it down.” He asked, a worried look on his face.
“No, I like that I get you heated…” You looked away, a light blush appearing on your cheeks.
He smiled softly. He cupped your face then kissed you tenderly.
“You do have that effect on me.”
You felt his member back to its throbbing state. You kissed him deeply yet delicately before looking at him seductively.
“Luci, time for the main course don’t you think?” You rubbed your soaked entrance against his hard member. “I’m at my limit.” You begged.
Having witnessed his previous reactions, you weren’t surprised when you felt his member grow even bigger after you had pronounced those words.
“Good because I’m also reaching my limit.” He answered.
You felt his tip press against your entrance and slide all the way in as you both melted into each other, a deep sigh of relief escaping your mouths.
“Holy-…you feel so good.” He groaned. He sat up, setting you both in a lotus position before resting his hands on your hips and starting to thrust. The pleasure felt so visceral you both moved cautiously as if trying to not come too fast, but without noticing, you both picked up the pace, panting and moaning filling the air. Your hands were gripping his shoulders tightly as you rocked your hips. One of his hands had migrated to your ass, squeezing your cheek tightly and the other was fondling your breast. You cupped his face and kissed him deeply, playing with his tongue as you felt his member twitch inside of you. You ran your fingers through his hair while kissing him and noticed him moan more as you did so.
Soon, the position wasn’t allowing him to move as freely as he desired and he was now standing on his knees, holding both of your ass cheeks tightly as he pounded into you. You were panting heavily as you felt it coming once again.
“Coming already?” He teased, his own panting giving away how he also felt.
You nodded no, not very convincingly. He took that as a challenge and precisely hit your G-spot repeatedly until you came, whimpering and your grip weakening.
“Good thing you’re not coming dear.” He kissed your neck, slightly sucking on it leaving a hickey.
This position had become too much for you, so he laid you flat on your stomach.
“You’re hanging there Y/n?” He asked eagerly.
“Of course!” You replied enthusiastically, it felt like your stamina was bottomless for all this pleasure.
“Good.” He replied. You felt him enter you again hungrily from behind, his body hovering over yours as he held both of your wrists, pinning them down onto the bed. Each thrust forcing a louder moan out of you. It was like the more he fucked you, the easier it became for him to make you come. His moans had also become deeper as he kept thrusting, your own increasing tightness making it harder for him. He moved his hands to your hips and dug his nails into you, allowing him a better control as he thrusted even deeper than before. You held the sheets tightly as you tried your best to match his movements, both feeding off each other’s building pleasure.
“Y/n.” You heard from behind.
You tried turning around to tell him you felt yourself getting closer when you felt his lips roughly take yours. He could’ve sent you over the edge with that kiss alone, but he also thrusted deeper than he ever had at the same time, you could only lean into the kiss as you felt the two of you come simultaneously.
As soon as the wave had finished washing over you, you collapsed on the bed, and he collapsed on top of you. He quickly caught himself though, rolling next to you and pulling you into his arms. You both relaxed for a moment, holding each other.
“Oh, my lord, that was amazing!” You heard him speak first. You turned to him, and he was smiling at you.
“It really was.” You calmly replied.
“I told you I was confident in my skill.” He smiled turning from tender to confident as he traced his finger over your body.
“I guess it was alright.” You declared.
The silence following made you look up, only to be met with a devastated look on his face.
“I’m joking!” You added, feeling bad about your joke.
“Ah! I knew that!” He fake-laughed awkwardly trying to look confident. You laughed at how cute he looked.
You pecked his lips.
You cuddled for a while before you heard a buzzing sound.
“My phone! It must still be in my dress.” You reached your dress, covering yourself with the sheet of the bed, grabbing your phone then heading back to the bed.
You checked your phone and noticed 20 missed calls.
“Huh, fuck him.” You both exclaimed at the same time before staring at each other in surprise and bursting out laughing.
You heard another buzz and was expecting it from your phone, but no new notifications had appeared.
Lucifer grabbed his phone and started laughing nervously.
“What is it?” You inquired.
“That’s, hmm…” He showed you a message that read:
From 'Ozzie 🍆💦' : I saw you took off early with your totally-just-platonic-friend. How’s the banging? 😏🍑
You stared at it for a second then you both exchanged a look and blinked, before bursting out laughing this time even harder.
~ The End ~
643 notes · View notes
fawnindawn · 13 days
Text
the line between thieves and healers (Luke Castellan x apollo fem! reader)
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Summary: Luke Castellan returns from his quest as a ghost of his old self with a bleeding scar to prove it. With his golden boy exterior all but shattered, no one in camp has tried to approach him since his return. This changes when you stumble upon the son of Hermes when he decides to go back to his old roots, stealing from your infirmary at midnight.
pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader
Content: forced proximity, tending to wounds, luke develops a little crush, set after Luke's failed quest in the Garden of Hesperides, mentions of injuries and scars, Luke tries and fails at being mean, hurt-comfort, fluff
masterlist for this series (everything in between) every part in this series can be read as a stand alone!
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"Come on." One of the campers prodded despite your obvious discomfort. "I'm sure you've squeezed something out of Castellan by now. He's been silent about what happened during his quest for days."
"I told you, I don't know anything, and even if I did, patient confidentiality exists." You repeated for the ninth time in a week. Ever since people found out Luke had come personally to you to tend to his wounds, they had lost all decency over the hope of digging for some good gossip. If you were asked one more time, you were sure you would tell them to stick their noses right back up their asses and leave.
Even after his return, Luke Castellan remained a constant in word of mouth around camp over his sudden change in persona. His usual grin and charm was replaced with a dark gloom unfitting for the son of Hermes, who used to light up any room he entered. The scar that permanently rests on his face didn't make it easier for him to avoid watching eyes either. After refusing to play in Capture the Flag for the first time in history, whatever patience the camp was trying to uphold dissipated into chaos.
Sure, you could see why it was a big deal. If you're a person with a sane enough mind (of course, not guaranteed in the premises of Camp Half-Blood), you’d understand why the fellow camp counsellor of the Hermes Cabin was popular. With his constant presence around camp as the cool, attractive camp counsellor helping other campers with that small quirk up his lips, or through word of mouth of how talented and kind he was, it wasn't a huge surprise that he attracted as much attention as he did.
Once the ninth camper in a row finally gave up and left with a huff, your eyes lingered over the bed where you first tended to Luke.
_
It was the dead of night when you were woken by the sound of creaking wooden floorboards and the cold chill of the wind that had somehow been brought into the infirmary. Somehow, you had overslept again on your shift and no one had bothered to wake you up or even check for your missing presence in your cabin.
Groaning at the awkward shift of your bones from your horrible sleeping posture on the desk, you were halfway through your stretch to crack your stiff neck when you heard the sound of footsteps. Freezing in place, you paused to listen in once more only to heard the soft thud once again. Peering to the left side of the infirmary, your heart stopped.
"Hey, listen." You spoke with that awkward crack in your voice whenever you go too long without speaking, causing the large shadow to flinch, pausing in its pursuit through your medicine cabinet. "I may not seem like it, but I am the best in combat in my cabin so whoever you are, step away from the cabinet and put your hands up."
Gee, that's convincing, you sound like an unnamed extra from the first few minutes of a horror movie before they ended up six feet under. Cursing yourself internally, you watched the shadow raise to full height from it's bent position. Gulping at the height that seemed to be at least six feet, you wonder if you should have just left this cabinet thief be and go to sleep for the night.
Why would anyone even want to ransack an infirmary at midnight?
You quickly grabbed for your oil lamp situated beside you, still flickering with the smallest of flames and you stood from your chair, causing it to creak back and scratch at the wooden floors as you made your way around the table to approach the thief.
The light was dim, but you spotted the familiar outline of a broad back and curls before he even fully turned.
"Castellan?" You gasped in half-asleep shock, disbelief obvious in your tone as you moved the oil lamp nearer to prove your eyesight wasn't playing tricks on you.
He didn't respond verbally to the call of his name, but when he turned around, his eyes narrowed on you as if you were the intruder. You barely had the chance to form words, questions- before you spotted the dripping crimson liquid near his eye.
"Oh gods." You muttered, grabbing at his arm and tugging him towards the nearest bed. "Why didn't you wake me up? It's not like you could wrap this up yourself."
With some struggle, he finally gave in, plopping down the edge of the bed and watched you scour through the medicine cabinet for bandages and other supplies, muted and stiff.
"I seriously don't understand why you didn't wake me up. Would you rather bleed to death or get an infection?" You scolded, your inner concern bleeding through your usual sense of politeness for injured visitors.
"Maybe." You thought you heard him mumble, but when you turned to look at him, he was facing the window right beside the bed and staring out into the shadows of the forest, the glow of the moonlight illuminating his features like a haunted painting, blood dripping down his cheekbones like fallen tears. You waited longer for an elaboration but there was none. You assumed you heard wrong, or at least you hoped you did.
You got off your knees, splaying out the supplies on the surface of the bed beside him, and pulled up a stool for you to sit at. He was still facing away from you, and your irritation combined with your lack of sleep made you more reckless than you'd usually be with an injured patient.
You gripped at his chin, forcing him to look at you, watching with satisfaction as his eyes widened at the sudden force. He looked more alive when he was caught off guard, his face devoid of the usual disinterest and distance it had ever since he arrived back from his quest.
"How do you expect me to treat you if you keep looking away from me, Castellan?" You challenged, gazing back into his eyes with fire you hoped was fierce enough to break down the coldness in his gaze.
After seconds of nothing but two stubbornheads trying to win a useless battle of eye contact, he sighed. "..Fine."
You were more gentle after that, letting go of his chin and reaching for the cloth. Your hands remained delicate on his skin that seemed to have pulled at the edge of the scar, where it was now bleeding again through its previous stitches. You mumbled a warning before dapping a wet handkerchief on top of the wound to soak in the blood, and he unintentionally grabbed at your thigh as he tried not to hiss out in pain.
You froze at the sudden tight grip, moving the cloth away from his skin and he was quick to retract his hand, positioning it awkwardly on top of the bedsheets instead.
"It's okay if you grab me." You reassured. "It'd be easier for me to gauge if you need me to stop when it gets too painful. You could give me a squeeze if you need a breather?"
You waited, watching his thoughts flicker through his narrowed eyes before slowly, his hand went to rest around your thigh again.
Ignoring the warmth of his palm on your skin, you cleared your throat. "Ready?"
He nodded stiffly, and you went back to work. After the cut had stopped bleeding, you were quick to grab the gauze and bandages. Tenderly, you placed the gauze above his wound, then wrapped the bandages around his face, from the top of his head to below his chin. This was the closest you had ever been to him, and you could feel and hear both his and your breathing in the quiet silence of the infirmary, with no living signs of life aside from the two of you on the infirmary bed and the dim orange hue of the oil lamp.
You could feel his intense gaze on you from his one good eye, while you concentrated on tying a secure knot so it wouldn't fall loose. The moment felt oddly intimate, knowing how sensitive his temper had been ever since he arrived back at camp, scarred in ways not even ambrosia could heal fully.
His hand resting around your thigh felt hot, and you tried to ignore how it your mind subconsciously kept track of every time his thumb would brush over the material of your pants.
"Next time.." You hinted, hopefully not crossing his boundaries. "If this happens again, you come straight here, got it? I don't care if I'm sleeping or attending someone else. You are not allowed to take care of a wound like this yourself, especially since I remember how reckless you can be."
Luke Castellan may be an excellent swordsman, but his cockiness was one weakness that he failed to keep controlled, and on days where it won over, he would always end up at the infirmary with a bashful smile as he tried to explain to you on how he ended up with a dislocated shoulder. That felt like eons ago, when that cheeky smile would always be present on his face, his signature move in getting away with any chaos he caused.
Staring at him now, you caught sight of that smile for such a split second you could've sworn you mistook it.
You couldn't stop the teasing smile that slipped past your stern attitude. "Was that a smile I saw, Castellan?"
He cleared his throat, his face falling back into practiced nonchalance, wearing a frown too forced to be real. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I may be sleep-deprived because a certain someone decided midnight was the best time to ransack an infirmary, but I'm not blind. For making me work overtime, I at least deserve to know what you found so amusing."
He made a face, and you were sure if his face wasn't tightly bandaged, he would roll his eyes in exasperation. "I wasn't amused. Just don't remember you being this.. unhospitable with someone that's injured. And I am not reckless."
You scoffed, causing him to look over at you. "I'd say trying to steal from an infirmary is pretty reckless. I thought Hermes kids were supposed to be good in stealing?"
You realised all too late that you may have touched on a sensitive topic, with the mention of his father, but he didn't seem to notice over the frank insult of being called a bad thief.
"I am excellent in stealing." He bit back so quickly, you choked on a snort. Hermes kids and their egos. "I was just going easy on you because you were knocked out at your desk. Oh, and you snore, you know that?"
"I do not."
"Do too."
"You're a liar and a thief. Don't get why your reputation is as marvelled upon as it is, Castellan. You don't live up to the hype at all."
"Oh, and what about you, Miss Sunshine?" He retorted. "Aren't you suppose to be the famous sweetheart who sings all injuries away with a smile on your face?"
"Don't call me that ever again." You must have looked extremely repulsed because he let out a laugh so genuine, it wiped any disgust off your face at the sound of pure heaven flooding into your ears. God, you forgot he could laugh like that.
"Yeah, I suppose it doesn't suit you, does it?" He murmured. "Maybe Apollo kids are only nice when others are around to see it."
"You've only come back meaner, Castellan." You scoffed. "I almost regret helping you. Would much rather see you stumble over trying to deal with this yourself if I knew you'd be so ungrateful."
"Sounds righteous of you." He nodded with a sarcastic hum. "Leaving me to bleed out to death while you watch. I understand why the camp has such high stakes when it comes to survival now. Never knew there was a sadist hiding in you, sunshine."
"I told you not to call me that." You reminded. "And I'm doing the best I can to keep everyone here alive so don't come to my infirmary talking about stakes when I've just saved your ass from blood loss."
Your response triggered something in him and he grew silent, his gaze locked on you as if analyzing you. That was when you're really reminded of how awful you must've looked. With your bed hair, sunken-in dark circles and sunken shoulders from the lack of sleep, you did not exactly feel the most confident. You didn't know what happened to make the casual atmosphere disappear as fast as it did, but you were anxious that somehow, you had shut him up again and you'd never get the chance to see him that way again, with his playful banter and light-heartedness of a teenage boy that he should have.
"You shouldn't have to." He muttered, almost to himself rather than to you. A seriousness unlike the previous few quips he'd thrown at you took ahold of him, and you had a feeling this was a slither of who he had really become through his rapid transformation, hidden under the jokes and sarcasm.
"What?"
"You shouldn't have to." He repeated a little louder, trying to get you to see his point. A point he'd been trying to tell Chiron, his friends even- ever since he came back here, only to be meet with pitying looks like he was a madman who spoke nonsense to try and make sense of his failure. "Lives should not be your responsibility. You're younger than me, and yet, you're dealing with kids that are near death's door every time they make it past that barrier. I barely made it back here. Some don't even.."
Luke tried to breathe, remembering how he got to camp in the first place. The unnecessary sacrifice that had to be made, the tree that now rests at the barrier of camp, the sound of thunder and pouring rain beating at his face.
"Now, I'm stuck with this disgusting scar of my face for the rest of my life, a stupid reminder every single time I look at myself, that I failed my only chance at proving I was something more than just wasted potential. Now I've gone and screwed it up for everyone because I couldn't do some easy quest someone else already accomplished-" He winced suddenly, grabbing onto the bandaged part of his face that seemed to grow more irritated and inflamed as he spoke.
You were quick to reach for his hand, knowing his aggression may harm the wound more. "It is not disgusting." You answered for him, and slowly, your hand rested over his, removing it from his face so he wouldn't accidentally cause the wound to start bleeding again. "You are not a failure, Luke."
"Don't take pity on me by saying words you don't mean." He muttered. "Everyone expected me to succeed, I could feel it in their gaze when they looked at me. I was supposed to be the best, and just because everyone told me that, I believed it. Now, I'm nothing but a disappointment to everyone."
He didn't know why he was saying all this to you. Maybe because you were the only person to treat him normally in the past two weeks, to really listen instead of trying to get him to move on, and maybe because his heart felt like it was growing too heavy to carry on his own. The insecurity and vulnerability made him feel sick, and he found himself trying to tear his hands away from you out of the need to run, which only made him feel more disgusted with himself. Like a coward, his mind taunted.
You remained stubborn, holding onto his cold palms because you know he has had no warmth, no real genuine words spoken to him since he returned. No one to see him when it was clear he was suffering, that he needed all the time in the world and more to heal, and that he deserved more than self-loathing and an absent father who sentenced him to this fate.
"I am not pitying you." You insisted, and you leaned closer so he couldn't look away from you. "Your scar does not make you ugly or less valuable to anyone. It is not pity, it is a fact. You are a person who has survived a fate so close to death, and any feat to survive death is strength. You are strong, and you made it back here alive with a scar to prove it. It is not a sign of weakness."
"Anyone who tells you different has no right or say in your situation because they did not go through what you did." You said with a stern voice, your anger not towards him, but for him. "Not your father, not anyone."
Luke finally looked at you, like looked. His eyes were scanning all over your face as if not quite believing you were real, but the fire in your eyes was so magnetic, he couldn't look away. The pinch between your brows, the addictive warmth of your hands in his, and the close distance between the two of you, and yet, it didn't make his skin itch with the need to pull away. To hide in his corner and wallow over the heavy weight of knowing his world had ended in the Garden of the Hesperides. Or had it?
Your eyes looked right through him, and for once, he felt like there was someone there for him.
"I suppose I can see where your reputation comes from now, sunshine." He responded weakly, and his heart gave a thump when you smiled back at him.
"Healing's what I understand best." You shrugged casually, as if you didn't just silence his thoughts for a moment of peace, or that you have somehow dulled the internal blades that bled with self-hatred and world-consuming anger pointed at himself, and at the injustice of the gods who could not give a damn about their children. “If I can help you even a little, why shouldn’t I?”
He could feel time ticking again in the back of his mind, the night slowly passing into a new one, and he thinks as he holds your gaze, that maybe this world wouldn't be so painful to live in if he had someone to look at him the way you did.
"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal. Or if I'll ever be normal again." He admitted, softer in his voice now that his mind didn't deem you as a threat.
"Normal can be lots of things." You said with a comforting smile. "It's normal to have a breakdown when you've nearly faced death. Multiple even. It's normal to feel fine one moment then not in the next. Healing isn't linear, and when you come to terms that you have a right to feel upset and a right to exist without being held to any expectations of others or what you think others want from you, it'll feel easier to just allow yourself to exist throughout the day. Not the perfect camp counsellor or a hero with no faults. Just as yourself."
He let your words sink in, his thumbs subconsciously rubbing over your knuckles, feeling the healed scars of your own from what he assumed must be from previous combat training. "I'm not that great as myself. You might find me disappointing."
You quirked your lips at that, and shook your head. "I don't believe in that one bit. You're already great just as you are now."
He raised a brow. "Even after trying to steal from your infirmary and having a mental breakdown past curfew?"
"Well, just be glad I was around because I'm much more understanding than Will would be with four hours of sleep."
"I am glad." He insisted. "That it's you."
"I'm glad it was me too." You reassured. "It is midnight though and there's Capture the Flag tomorrow, meaning someone's going to end up whining and moping in here in about eight hours so why don't you let me close shop and come by tomorrow, Castellan?"
"Luke." He corrected, giving you a smile you're sure must be the one the other campers rave about all the time. The charming one that made your heart stutter, even with half his face bandaged and eyebags resting below his caramel eyes.
"Luke." You tested it on your tongue tentatively, and it only seemed to spark an electricity between the two of you that you were sure he must've felt too. In the dark corner of the infirmary, with nothing but crickets and your hushed voice, you spoke again with a heavy heart when you needed to tell him to leave. "I have to close this place up or someone else might try and steal from the medicine cabinet, not that I thought it was possible before but.."
"Fine." He complied, getting off the bed and rising to his full height, towering over you and blocking the moonlight from your view. "I'll wait outside and walk you back to your cabin. It's the least I could do."
You tried not to seem too elated over the idea that you could spend a little more time with Luke, though you're sure your glowing smile must've shown. "Sure you're not just trying to improve your image around me, thief?"
He smirked, following you out to the front door while you wrestled for the keys in your pocket to lock up for the night. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
_
"What are you smiling about?"
You looked up from your daze to see Luke leaning over the door frame, watching you with a smirk over his face.
"Can't a girl smile just for the sake of it?" You bit back, cheeks flushing at the idea that he could've possibly seen your focus lingering a little too long on the bed he had sat on. "Why'd you drop out of Capture the Flag? You know your cabin's going to lose their streak to Ares at this point."
"Wanted to see someone." He replied with a shrug, pushing off the door frame to walk towards where you sat, leaning over your desk and watching you compile the latest stock of ambrosia into a box. "Plus, Athena and Hermes are joining for today so Annabeth's got it handled."
He shuffled his fingers along the edge of the table, outlining the curve before clearing his throat. "I heard you covering up for me just now, and I wanted to say thank you."
You looked up at him then, and his eyes seemed to convey that he was thanking you for more than just that. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to.
"Eavesdropping on me now?” You teased. “Careful or you might end up becoming obsessed with a poor, overworked healer."
He scoffed exaggeratedly. "You wish. Just take the thank you. Should've known not to show my gratitude to an Apollo kid."
You stuck your tongue out at him before going on about how mind-blowing it can be that some kids really did not have emotional intelligence when it came to basic decency. Listening to you ramble on as you went on to arrange your first aid kits, Luke realised for all the disappointment he has experienced in his life, maybe there was one good thing his father led him to.
a/n: Couldn't resist writing how this duo met because I live and die for banter. inspired by 'my reputation's never been worse so you must like me for me' trope which is what i live and breathe for. His reputation as the perfect golden boy is in shambles, and sunshine couldn't care less.
taglist: @stars4birdie @elysiandumbash @kehlanislefttoe @mqg125 @madzlovez @0revna0 @auroraofthesun1 @idli-dosa @buubsii @kaylasficrecs @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @itsdragonius @moonlightfoxs-cantina
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libraford · 8 months
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The company I work for went through an entire song and dance about how we're not allowed to used gendered nicknames for any of the kids we photograph because it might upset them. My boss laid out the instructions for how to handle a name change for the yearbook because "well now a kid might say their name is 'Jimmy' when it used to be-"
"James," I interrupted, sensing that she was going to be flippant about the next name.
"Jenny," she says, correcting me and giving me a stare as if I'm not taking this seriously enough.
But I am. See... cis people should be able to go through the process of altering their yearbook names as well. James goes by Jimmy now. Its no different from Jenny going by Jimmy. Name changes benefit people across the board, if they want one.
And when she said 'Jenny,' I could tell it was with this sense of obligation and that she didnt take it seriously. But I have had a lot of kids ask me to change their name in the files because that's what their friends call them. And they should be called what their friends call them. Because that's their name. It doesn't matter if their gender has changed. Its a matter of general agency that we should allow to people of any age.
I'm required to fill out a form for a background check. They want information which includes my driving record because there are days that I'm driving 200 miles to get to an action point.
It asks for my gender 'as stated on birth certificate.' Not as stated on driver's license, but on my birth certificate. It isn't any different between the two documents, but it seems so odd to decide that the birth certificate should matter more than the drivers license when the history in question is my driving history.
Last year, my boss told me that she 'didn't understand all this transgender stuff.' Out of the blue, I think maybe there was an ad on the TV in our hotel room on an away job. I told her that she didn't have to understand it, just accept that this is part of the world- the way that you might not understand Diwali or wooden shoes or chicken foot soup, but they are part of the world that she lives in.
She shook her head. This wasn't the right time to tell her and it was none of her business anyway.
But now we have all these rules about how to navigate one of those pesky transgenders if we encounter them and it feels so empty. It doesn't seem like safety. It seems like fear and it feels like a crowbar.
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carriesthewind · 1 year
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The IA's "Open Library" is Not a Library, Yesterday's Lower Court Decision does Not "Hurt Authors," and the Planned Appeal Is (Almost Certainly) NOT a Good Way to Try to Change Bad Law (In Fact, It's More Likely to Make Bad Law Worse)
Ok, so a day later, I'm still mad about this. If anything, I'm even madder. I'm going to write this as a response to the Internet Archive's "The Fight Continues" blogpost, but before we begin, let's get some facts straight:
Copyright law in the United States, especially the law around digital lending, currently sucks. It's really really bad, and anyone with a stake in the game - except the big publishers and e-book services that profit from it - hate it.
That said, copyright law exists as a thing. As I said in a previous post, you *can* try to change it through court cases, but there are certain things you cannot change. And there are certain things you can try to change, but it will be an uphill battle to change them in a positive direction. And notably, as bad as digital lending law is in the U.S., it still could always get worse! And one general rule of impact litigation: if you are trying to change the law, you want to make sure you have the best possible facts. Because the worse your facts are, the worse your case is likely to go.
Yesterday's district court ruling DID NOT CHANGE ANY SUBSTANTIVE COPYRIGHT LAW IN THE U.S. I cannot emphasize that enough. Regardless of whatever you think of the ruling, it was applying already existing law to the facts.
This is because the Internet Archive's "Open Library" absolutely violates existing copyright law. It just does! They broke the law, they had plenty of notice they were breaking the law and harming authors (more on that below) and just think the law shouldn't apply because they don't like it.
The Internet Archive's "Open Library" is not a library. Some big ways it differs:
While it pretends to have a one-to-one owned-to-loaned ratio, as the opinion granting the publisher's motion for summary judgement notes, IA concedes that it allows "partner libraries" to add books to its collection and then doesn't check (and has no way of checking) if the book is out of circulation at the "partner library" at the same time it's being "checked out" of the Open Library. In other words, it's like if you took a book, scanned the pages, and then gave the scans to your friend who then loaned the scans out to other people but totally promised they were only lending the scans to one person at a time so it's basically like there is still just one copy! And meanwhile you still own, are reading, and lending out the physical copy of the book. Except instead of one book, they were doing this on a massive scale. NO, THAT'S JUST THEFT.*
Speaking of which, the "Open Library" didn't keep that promise! Their "Emergency Library" just let everyone borrow as many copies at a time as they could! Again, THAT'S JUST THEFT.
Like I'm sorry if you don't like the idea of copyright at all: right now, we live in a capitalist system where authors need to be paid for their work in order to, like, not die. If you take their work, scan it into your computer, and give it away for free to anyone and everyone, THAT'S JUST THEFT.
Also, most authors love libraries! Libraries allow more people to access their books while not substantially impacting their revenue and not impacting their rights! AUTHORS - not just publishers, authors - DO NOT LIKE AI'S "OPEN LIBRARY." Why haven't authors sued to stop this before, why is this the publishers suing? From the above letter: "Even simple copyright lawsuits must be brought in federal court, and often cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. A challenge to the Internet Archive could easily cost millions." Publishers have deep pockets that authors and authors' groups don't. Also, authors who object to AI stealing their work are frequently subject to harassment.
If IA won this case, the new law that would be made is this: it would be legal to steal an author's works.
*I'm using "theft" and "steal" instead of "piracy" throughout this write-up to make it clear what this is. "Pirating books" is just stealing them.
So to sum up the facts above: copyright law in the U.S. sucks, but it exists. Attempting to change it for the better through the court system would be very difficult. Even then, changing the law for the better would likely require a case with good facts. Unfortunately, the law could also change for the worse. Yesterday's ruling did not change any law. The facts in this case are very bad, because the IA absolutely violated copyright law. That is in part because the IA's "Open Library" is not a library; they just steal books. Many (if not most) authors and author's groups don't like that IA is stealing from them. If IA won this case, that victory would mean that anyone was allowed to steal an author's works.
*deep breath*
Ok, let's turn to the IA's statement, "The Fight Continues":
"Today’s lower court decision in Hachette v. Internet Archive is a blow to all libraries and the communities we serve."
The Internet Archive is not a library.
No it's not. It is a blow to the Internet Archive, specifically, because you broke the law and it ruled you broke the law. As stated above, it does not change anything with regard to copyright, including digital copyright, law in the U.S., and therefore does not impact libraries or the communities they serve. If you appeal this ruling, as you have stated you intend to, and the law does change for the worse (which is always a risk of appeal, and a risk that gets worse when you have bad facts), THEN libraries might be affected.
"This decision impacts libraries across the US who rely on controlled digital lending to connect their patrons with books online."
I mean yes, in the sense that "controlled digital lending" isn't normal e-book lending. It's the thing you made up where you steal books and illegally redistribute them.
This genuinely sucks for libraries and communities that don't have other ways of accessing digital books because the current copyright scheme sucks so bad! Real libraries are doing things to try to help, and not just steal from authors! More on that below!
"It hurts authors by saying that unfair licensing models are the only way their books can be read online."
OH GO FUCK YOURSELVES
Ok this line, this line right here? That is honestly why I wrote this whole thing.
How DARE you cloak your theft in the real struggles authors face with unfair licensing models. How DARE you pretend you are on the side of authors when you are stealing their works, and they have made it quite clear that they would like you to stop, please. And how DARE you frame it in this "for exposure" bullcrap that ignores the real struggles that authors have to eat, to get healthcare, to get any sort of fair pay and wages for their work, and instead pretend that all authors should care about is whether or not their books can be read online.
And bluntly? If you - not IA, YOU, tumblr user reading this - if you shared this bullcrap statement and told people to donate money to the IA because of this? If you told people they should steal more books in response (because it's the publishers fault, ignore the real authors who are actually harmed)? How DARE you. How DARE you pretend to be on the side of authors and writers.
"And it holds back access to information in the digital age, harming all readers, everywhere."
Except for those readers who are also authors, and need to eat.
And readers who want to read books that will never get written if authors can't write (because they need to eat).
And also, no it doesn't, because it doesn't change the law. It just applies the law that already exists to you. Because you are not above the law.
"But it’s not over—we will keep fighting for the traditional right of libraries to own, lend, and preserve books."
You are not a library.
You were not (and are not) fighting for "the traditional right of libraries." Plenty of other organizations are fighting against bad copyright law in the U.S. This court case, however, was literally just about you stealing books.
Like I cannot emphasize enough that you were just stealing and you got caught.
"We will be appealing the judgment and encourage everyone to come together as a community to support libraries against this attack by corporate publishers."
You aren't a library.
Fuck you for borrowing the (justified) hatred of corporate publishers to paper over your bad actions.
Does "coming together as a community to support libraries against this attack" mean giving you money, as suggested by the calls to action at the bottom of this page? Because you aren't a library.
"We will continue our work as a library."
You aren't a library.
"This case does not challenge many of the services we provide with digitized books including interlibrary loan, citation linking, access for the print-disabled, text and data mining, purchasing ebooks, and ongoing donation and preservation of books."
First, and most important: these are all uncritically good and important things that the IA does! Despite the rest of this post, I am really really glad the IA exists, that it is doing these things, and I hope that it will continue to do this things!
You are correct that this case does not challenge those services! Because those services aren't just stealing books from authors, which is what you were doing, which is what this case is actually about!
I'm skipping the statement from Brewster Kahle because it's just more of the same. The statement then invites you to Take Action! by donating to IA and positing themselves as standing up for libraries! (They are not a library.)
But real libraries and librarians are actually fighting the good fight over lack of access to materials, especially digital materials and bad laws, and you can support them!
If you actually do want to "come together as a community to support libraries," and support digital access, may I suggest instead donating to The Brooklyn Public Library's Books Unbanned program?:
https://www.bklynlibrary.org/books-unbanned
While they aren't directly challenging bad copyright law, they are directly fighting back against laws that are much more actively and materially impact people's access to books, including providing free e-book and database access to everyone in the U.S. age 13-21. It's a great and important program, and your donations can really help!
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sukunasweetheart · 2 months
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Watching angsty romance films with sukuna while youre sick... biggest mistake he ever made bc hes sitting there like: 😐
while youre dramatically sobbing: 🥹😭🥺EEUEEEE 😢🥹WEEHHHHH 😭😭😭😭
Youre more emotionally vulnerable when youre sick so you start crying at every little thing, becoming a sniffling mess, especially at tearjerker films
Actually, he prefers when you cry like this, rather than your silent crying. He doesn't like you hiding things from him. Also, its funnier when youre upset in a silly way. It strikes a nerve in his chest when you're actually upset.
Imagine you plead him to feed the soup or porridge he makes for you (please? 🥺) and he does it reluctantly, even blowing on the spoon to cool it down before giving it to you. You giggle after every spoonful and he tells you to be quiet, else he's going to make you eat it yourself.
And youre awfully clingy with him, more than usual, asking to hold hands and asking him where he's going every time he stands up. "i'm just going to take a piss, jesus. Stay put."
And after he comes back, he finds you napping, having fallen into a deep sleep. Probably from the drowsy medications. Then he will freely check your temperature and change the cloth on your forehead while you're not watching him.
once you wake up again, its back to sad films. sukuna doesn't understand why you're doing this to yourself but he's not gonna put in effort to stop you if that's what you really want... the film you watch with him ends with the male lead dying, leaving his girlfriend behind...
"babe 🥹"
"what?"
"i'll never date someone else even if you die first..."
"you don't need to worry about that. i ain't dying."
"babeeee 🥹 dont die, okay?"
"i'm not dying! 💢"
you're the sick one here!! and then he demands that you go to sleep now, since youll just dehydrate yourself by exhausting your tear ducts but you say you can't yet bc youre not sleepy...
the rest of the day ends with you just doing your own thing, playing games or whatever, and him scrolling on his phone beside you until you feel tired enough
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transformers synergize
A covert Autobot mission to transport the Allspark off Cybertron goes array after a Decepticon ambush destroys the Ark, splitting it in half and sending it and its crew plummeting to the planet below. Waking up an unknown amount of time later, the remaining Autobots find themselves stranded on a strange alien planet called "Earth." Prowl, being the highest-ranking bot still on the Ark, takes the lead. Now all the Autobots have to do is find the missing crew members, the other half of the Ark, and the Allspark while also finding a way to get back in contact with Cybertron. Of course, all while needing to ration their energon and fend off both a small group of Decepticons and a mysterious group of techno-organics they’ve come to call the Insecticons, with all three groups of bots seeming to be looking for similar things, and none of them are looking to compromise.
cybertronian lore
• cybertronian sounds https://www.tumblr.com/transformers-synergize/741930288135946240/do-they-purr?source=share
• optic color lore https://www.tumblr.com/transformers-synergize/736700669097050112/do-you-have-any-red-optic-autobots-or-blue-optic?source=share
•em feild lore https://www.tumblr.com/transformers-synergize/736064010597941248/this-was-made-for-a-fan-community-i-am-working-on?source=share
• cybertronians and colnisaition https://www.tumblr.com/transformers-synergize/739155118667251712/robots-in-disguise?source=share
comics
• hopefully, one day lol
artist and main writer @krayzayy
helper @hazydaisyislazy
more info stuff below
why I haven't answered your ask
• the answer would be a spoiler
• I have nothing interesting to say
• I forgot I got the ask
• I'm still working on a response (Possibility with art)
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nexusnyx · 1 year
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keep close | joel miller
Summary: It takes you six months to break. You thought you'd last longer. Tried convincing yourself that everything in your head was because he saved you, not because of real attraction. One night, Joel proves that to be wrong. a/n: I'm nothing if a byproduct of my environment. And my environment right now is a mind palace made only of Pedro's role... so here we go. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. [WC: 3.7k] Warnings: Mostly fluff. A hint of indecent thoughts, so maybe reader discretion is advised? Protective!Joel, strangers to friends, unresolved sexual tension.
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What lived under your skin the most was Joel's duality.
Registering the range of what he was proved to be a difficult task from the very beginning.
Here he was, the man who saved you. The man who somehow, despite the gritty and cruel ways of existence, managed to keep a kind bone in his body. Kind enough to step in when you were in danger, even if he didn't need to. Life-threatening danger—most people would look away these days. But not him. Not Joel.
Here he was, the man who was kind enough to look you in the eye when he saw you crunched down in a corner, sweating profusely due to the wounds and most likely looking like a rabid or wild animal, and still tried putting some calmness to his voice before asking: "Can you walk? I heard you. 'm gonna help, ok?"
That man. The same one who beat the bastards who were keeping you to a pulp. That man, currently, slept only a couple of feet away from you, with his face half-tucked inside his scarf and jacket, and for the first time in your life, you saw Joel... smiling.
It was the first time you witnessed it.
The book on his lap told you he fell asleep mid-chapter. While the sprain and cuts were minor compared to what they could be, Joel fussed as if they were broken bones. The most worrisome part was your ribs, but those, he cut out fabric from an old t-shirt of his ("they're all old now though, aren't they?") and wrapped your body as firmly as he could.
It made you smile, even if only at your own reflection in the bathroom mirror.
How could this be the same man?
Sometimes, you closed your eyes and saw him like that.
Mid-fight, rage and sadness oozing out of him as if they were radiation, his fists flying so fast it seems impossible to catch up to the act.
When violence is needed, Joel breaks the calm surface and introduces outsiders to the storm within.
It goes calm, storm, drizzle.
He'd never change that.
Now that it was too late, Joel would always be this sea of turbulent waters, often hidden by its vastness.
Joel "I will punch you in the throat" Miller asked you very few questions at first.
Dinner on the day he rescued had been awkward, to say the least.
Not that it mattered in the long run.
What was awkwardness in the face of not looking over your shoulder, and what was feeling left out and intrusive in comparison to the jittery stress of always checking if the gun is loaded?
Nothing.
Having two people close by who seemed alright in the head — a rarity, if there ever was one —trumped it all.
Joel and Ellie were headed West. So were you.
It was logical, only. Or it was, at first.
"I could definitely use an extra pair of hands with this one," Joel admitted. It was the first night walking together after one week stationed at the same place to wait for yours and Ellie's healing—a night of dubious whiskey and traded information.
"She doesn't seem that difficult," you answered, eyeing Ellie's sleeping frame on the other side of camp.
He scoffs. "She isn't." His lips pursed in a thin line. "I just—" his shoulders shrugged. "Think she might get bored with just me."
For someone who had barely said a word for a whole week, it was more than you first perceived him to be. "The world's quite a boring place now," you whispered. Then, shrugged your shoulders just the same. I don't care. "I like it."
"Do you?"
"I do." You remembered how noisy things were. So many nowadays lacked the age for that, but not you. "'s nice hearing nature. And that one," you tilted your chin towards Ellie, "should be happy to be alive."
The truth of that hung in the air.
That first conversation sealed it for you—Joel making an effort to ask things and answer your inquiries surprised you.
"Think we can keep her alive 'till we get to the Fireflies base?" Joel asked you.
You thought it over for a second, and came to a conclusion. "We can definitely try." A purpose other than escaping — all you've ever known — and surviving sounded good to you. "And if that's your mission, probabilities of success rise with another member on the team."
That night, all you got out of him was one eyebrow raised. "Is that so?" It sounded teasing, but he looked so serious saying it. "Well. 'm gonna hope you're as good with that rifle as you are with your probabilities."
To his delight, he quickly discovered you were.
Faster, even.
Joel might have risen an eyebrow at first, but your sentence proved to be true in the next couple of months. There's a team there. The two of you do your best at trying, even through hardships.
When there are no Fireflies, you make Ellie look away from the bloodshed. With no clear plan or direction in sight, you're a helpful extra set of eyes when Joel decides it's best to look for Tommy.
In all of the three months where you, Joel, and Ellie head towards Wyoming, a routine is established, and the days looking after each other make it hard to pretend there's any distance between your little group.
Ellie is fond of your Encyclopedia of Unbelievable Facts.
She's a quick learner, an agile fighter with a wicked sense of humor, and enough cursing to rival you in the games of "unladylike shit and sounding like pirates, honestly," as stated by Joel.
He hid a lot of his amusement in scoffs and sighs, you thought.
Joel is fond of doing perimeter checks, sleeping on his side, and 'peace and quiet'.
It takes you a bit to understand that it's easier to pull conversation from him when Ellie is safe and sound. Tucked in her sleeping bag, showering in the river streams (and swearing incessantly under her breath), eating her food.
Without Ellie around, Joel opens up, bit by bit.
He talks about Tess.
About how close he and Tommy always were.
"I bailed him out of jail, y'know? That night of..." he doesn't say it.
Most of us never do. "Did you?"
He chuckles drily. "I did." He shakes his head, sips his water. "Stupid fucker."
"More like lucky fucker." When Joel turns his head to you with furrowed eyebrows, you elaborate. "If you hadn't gone, no more Tommy."
Joel takes a second before nodding. "Yeah."
"Were you always bailing him out of trouble?"
His face softened for a second. Before him, you embraced the darkness as you did the silence, but now, you wished for better lighting. "Often. Once, he and I were at our dad's house on a winter hunting trip. He hated those at first, but before..."
You started living for the stories.
Joel's presence became warm when he shared.
Vivid, and so fucking tempting.
It was all soft whispers back and forth, until the day he dropped her name.
"Sarah."
You knew the second you heard it—an open wound starts smelling the longer it stays open, and this one carried literal weight to it.
A whiff in the wind, and mourning was all over the air.
Joel left, and in the morning, nothing more is said.
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Colorado changes everything.
It gives you the smile.
It comes at a cost, like everything else.
Since there's been no Tommy, you advise and convince Joel to check the Fireflies base here, only to find out they're relocated to Salt Lake City. When you three are coming out of the building with the fresh news hot on your laps, a group tries to ambush and kidnap you three.
As it does in this world without order, hell breaks lose.
Other than hell, a lot more breaks—protocol, jaws, ideas, trust.
Theirs thankfully.
You, Joel, and Ellie make it out alive, but not good.
You find a safehouse in a mountain cabin.
"Friend of Tommy's used to live here. Thank fuck it's still here," said Joel.
"Thank fuck indeed 'cause I don't know how much longer I can—oh fuck, fuck, fuck, Joel."
"Hey, hey, take it easy, slow down." Joel is just if not more fucked up than you from the fight, but he's still the one holding you up. He whistles—a call for Ellie. "Help with her other side, we can finish lighting up the place afterward. She needs to lie down."
Ellie hooks her frame underneath your left side, and you thank her with your weak and sweaty smile. "And your sure just lying down and resting will heal her rib?"
"It just cracked. Bones heal, El."
"I'm just checking." Ellie always checks. "You might need some penicillin, too. That knife looked ugly."
"I'll get it once we're all cleaned up. I'll go on a run," says Joel.
You're hurt too, you bastard.
"I'm the only one not limping here, can't I go?" asks Ellie.
"No," you and Joel say in unison. "I'll go tomorrow. I'm bruised, but nothing's infected. I think I saw a warehouse down there."
Ellie sighs next to your ear. Then, she mumbles to you right before you're lied down on the bed. "Bet this will be Pittsburg two."
Pittsburg.
The fight. Joel deciding to save you despite your brother almost ruining Ellie's life.
Joel's frame sleeping next to your cot.
"You shouldn't have run off like that."
Not a single request for your apologies, or a comment on the shitshow that happened before you just 'ran off'.
Joel, the same man who saved you from a group of lunatics by bashing one of their member's head against the nearest tree, huffed and puffed before saying, "you saved Ellie's life by shooting your brother. and... i'm sorry about what came after that."
An apology from him.
How was that fair?
"You don't need—to thank me."
"I do."
"...You just saved my life, Joel."
"Well, you saved Ellie's, so consider us even."
That was then.
That was before deciding you were a team. Before heading West, before finding out about Salt Lake, before the attack.
Joel probably needed to rest himself.
Except—
There he is.
The first thing you think upon waking up in the candle-lit room.
Joel slept next to you, almost as if keeping guard.
It stirs the strings in your chest.
It's one thing to be observed by him after he saved you from those three men because you're bruised and traumatized by the whole thing.
It's whole other to know Joel is just as bruised.
Six months have passed since then.
A lot has happened. More than you could compute, sometimes, but less than your heart desired.
All the struggles, the Infected, the long days of walking, and the hard nights of worrying have molded this new thing into its own ecosystem.
This Joel sleeping on an old mattress right next to you lets Ellie take watch because he trusts her abilities and her notion of danger. He knows if you two prefer your 'apocalypse grub' — an Ellie trademark term — all mixed together or separated, if you can be trusted with the bourbon bottle (no), and that your taste in music is "atrocious but expected" (his words, clearly).
This Joel knew you kept your distance for a reason.
He'd seen it in you, months ago.
And yet, there he was.
With the book — your book — in his lap, sitting with his back to the wall and his legs already tucked inside the raggedy blankets you found in one of the cabinets.
Joel's extensive list of injuries had you waking up in a cold sweat, but the same as you, he seemed to recover fast.
In two days, he's wincing less to get up, and comments on his wishes to go look for pharmaceuticals.
That's the night you wake up to him sleeping—both of you could do it, but he insisted on taking turns.
When your eyes open, first, you see the book.
Then, you notice he moved the mattress closer to yours.
They're touching.
The raggedy blankets make them look like a single bed, and the thought feels foreign.
Next, you notice...
Joel is right there.
Sure, he's a few inches away, but... you could touch his legs if you extended your arm. All it would take is a little bit of wiggling to make a pillow out of his thighs, and you know how much more comfortable than what you have underneath you.
His smile is the last thing you see.
Not because you skipped his face—on the contrary, Joel's face is the first thing you see in the morning and the last you see at night.
Maybe that's why.
He never had this.
A gentle, real smile.
You hardly blame him. There are no reasons to smile nowadays, not for long. Not without sadness poisoning the eyes, or without the grin turning into a grimace.
Joel is smiling.
His dream must be good, because his features all softened somehow.
Good gods, he's handsome.
That's why you look so little at his face. The real reason.
Staring at Joel too much can cause you to think of nothing else, and in month one you learned the lesson of eyes wide open or head blown open wide.
Mistakes meant death.
Joel's eyes crinkled as he lifted one of his mouth's corners in the closest thing that could come off as a 'smile', and that meant distraction, which meant an eventual mistake, and so on.
When your gaze searches for the lines left by his crinkles, Joel's eyes are on you.
As serene as the quietude outside, Joel stares down, and in a contrast to the weather howling cold winds outsides, your body says it is morning, and it rises.
The longer he stares, the more it rises.
Your blood pumps harder under his gaze.
Joel knows that. He has to.
Silence with fixed gazes turns the air into a thick, palpable fog.
Why is he staring? It's probably the busted eyebrow. Busted lip. Joel never stares at you, never looks too long, too hard, never looks enough—
"I can almost hear you thinkin'," Joel's voice is a whisper, but it startles you nonetheless. Not in fear.
Once, somewhere, you read something you never forgot. The body, it always betrays itself. It blushes. It trembles.
It was true.
The shiver is involuntary.
Your mother used to say the sound of sirens meant trouble and ever since, you always heard sirens in your head as you panicked. "Was observin' your hair," laugh, look away, know your place. "It's gettin' whiter."
It gets a chuckle. A tight-lipped smile. "I'm gettin' older."
"So you say." Constantly.
The first reminder of why he kept his distance, probably. Of why he had no interest in you. Too young.
"Doesn't it look like it?"
You shrug, hugging the makeshift pillow tighter under your head. "'m not so sure how old people are supposed to look." Definitely not this good, right? This broad. Soft. Strong "Haven't been around many."
Joel points at himself. "Right here."
"You're not old."
His lip twitches. "No?"
"No."
"I'm over my forties."
"That's not old." You don't know why you're arguing. You never argue.
Joel closes the book, then hums. "I remember the world before it turned to ruins and vines."
Maybe it's because he's so damn close. Your fingers itched to touch him countless times before, but usually, there are more counterarguments in your head as to why you shouldn't. "So do I."
The smile returns to his face, but it's the awake and lucid kind—a little sadistic. Sad. "Let me rectify it—I lived in it."
"So did I." Albeit, not much. "Less than you, though." A decade or so more. Almost two.
"Right." Joel takes a deep breath, and the movement quiets you down.
Sometimes, you wished you had just a few years more. Five, or six would suffice. Would he look at you, then?
As the silence goes on, your mind starts with at least three different scenarios where Joel met you under different circumstances.
"Can't sleep anymore?"
There's no shiver this time, but you look up at him again, desperate to see some more of his sleepy eyes and that damned smile.
"Don't know," you whisper.
If he smiles again, you'll count the night as a win. Tuck his happiness somewhere out in the front of your mind to see if it occupies space. If it makes you think less of what he used to be like as a lover.
The tainted thoughts always make you avert your eyes, but this time, you have the benefit of only candle lights, so you let the embarrassment burn you as you keep staring.
Joel is looking at your face the same way. Heavy eyelids, gaze searching.
"Does it hurt anywhere?"
The question makes your brain swim in the lingering pain, but for other reasons.
Every scenario still opened in your mind leads to the same corridor—he placed his big hands on your neck right now to feel your temperature and caressed somewhere in your body to put you to sleep.
Somewhere he could touch the skin.
Through foggy vision you see Joel starting to frown, so you're quick to answer before he worries.
"'m just uncomfortable." True enough. "Anxious."
He nods. "Makes sense." He exhales slowly, placing the book on the floor next to the mattresses. "It'll take a while to calm down from it. It... they came out of nowhere." You nod. He clasps his hands together on his lap. "It could've been a lot worse."
Your group had a rule. "No what ifs about the past."
Joel made your heart jumpstart all over again by almost doing it—he almost smiled. "Right. Sorry."
"We're both in one piece."
"We are." He looked down at you and then, in a gesture that your entire body freezing on the spot, one of Joel's hands leaves his lap, and makes its way to you. It places on top of your head. In administrated, slow moves, it starts petting your hair. Then, Joel speaks. As if you can listen. "None of us needs penicillin..."
His words seem to trail off.
You need a second longer to relax under his touch. When you do, the tension melts so visibly you might as well be snow under the sun.
This time, the silence is thick.
Liquid.
When his hand moves lower, it ends up on your back, rubbing between the shoulder blades, and clearing the line of sight for his eyes again.
That's when he must see it.
The second he started to touch you, your blood become fuel. You could feel it burning hot inside your veins, moving faster than it ever did with you two alone in a room. The only times it's beaten like this before you were either in life-threatening danger, or muffling your sounds behind your hand as your other did quick work between your legs.
Joel sees it.
Even if the illumination comes only from the candles, he has to see it.
The way your lips parted for him.
There's no way your eyes aren't saying as much as the temperature your body is exuding.
Joel keeps on rubbing circles for a few more seconds, but eventually, he whispers. "What?"
It makes you want to cry.
If you answer, he'll probably do the thing. He'll turn you down gently, politely.
You shake your head, swallowing a lump in your throat. "Nothing." Your eyes sting. I want you so badly it makes me a bit crazy sometimes. Instead of that, you settle for whispering. "How d'you feel?"
It takes him a minute to answer. His eyes keep shifting between where his hand is rubbing and your face. "Good. Hurts less. Unfortunately, that means thinking more."
"Dangerous."
"You have no idea," he chuckles.
This time, the silence lasts. You keep on staring, while Joel is happy to continue making your back and hair feel a tingling warmth they never saw before.
"Is this ok?" he asks eventually.
Without noticing, your eyes had closed.
Always a man of few words. "Of course."
He nods to you. "'kay."
Stay here. Don't go anywhere.
Watch out for her.
Keep close.
Those and okay. The words you most heard over these past months.
When your eyes open again, Joel's hand is traveling back to your hair and this time, the silence between you two becomes a cord.
Tension.
His fingers do careful work once they find your strands—goosebumps rise all over your skin and for the first time, you're thankful for wearing long sleeves even to bed.
You know there are words hanging in the air, begging to be said, but...
Insecurity pulls you back.
Even if your eyes keep locked on his for a small amount of forever, you swallow down your wants and needs in fear of being blinded by your own attraction and ending up projecting yours on him.
All Joel does is stare back.
Maybe if you weren't inexperienced. Maybe if you had any previous knowledge of what intimacy and relationships had been like, but this world was not the same as before and things were... harder.
So you burned in silence.
Eventually, you burned for him in the dark of your sub-conscience.
With the ghost of Joel's hand still on your nape, caressing on top of your hair, you dive into a deep slumber, and it's in dreams that everything cracks.
You're not even present in mind to witness his world shift.
Joel, in silence, watched you going under. Watched those eyes staring up at him with so much said, so much written in between your lines. He watched with his heart pounding in his chest loud enough for him to hear.
When you sleep, he observes with reverence.
Trying to push down the feelings curling up inside him.
That's when he hears it.
Spoken through your glued lips at first, then louder, more confidently. Joel's heard your sleeping mumbles before, but this one is the one that breaks him.
"Joel..." soft. Breathless. Dangerously low. And then, "Joel."
That's when Joel realizes it—late at night, alone in the silence.
It changes something in him.
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📝 PART TWO →
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