#definitely taking a break from them for a bit

[sparklestormandsoda]

HII I HOPE ALL IS WELL!!

ok so I’ve seen your polytrix works and I love them🫦 SO LIKE HEAR ME OUT RIGHT

so like they’re all together right but let’s say rumi and mira stepped out for a bit and Zoey and reader are still in the house still in bed but then they both get SMACKED with hornyness right and so I’m thinking double ended dil + vib= Zoey and ready going at it like crazy and then eventually mira and rumi come back and Zoey and reader are too wrapped up into each other to even notice that the both of them are back just standing by the door watching them go at it like craaaazy

and like the ending can be up to you BUT THANKS FOR TAKING THE TIME GO READ THIS

18+ as it contains smut

It starts soft.

Just Zoey curled into your side, one leg thrown over your hips, her palm lazy against your stomach. Sunlight filters in through the sheer curtains, and for a minute, it’s just warmth and quiet.

But then she stretches—her thigh pressing between yours—and lets out a breathy little “mmh” that drips with something less innocent. And you glance at her, watching her tongue swipe over her lower lip.

Then her hand drifts lower.

“You’re looking at me like that,” she mumbles, fingers brushing just under the hem of your tank top, “and expecting me to behave?”

Your breath hitches.

“I thought we were just cuddling…”

“Yeah?” Her voice drops, sultry. “You wanna cuddle while I fuck you?”

You blink.

Zoey’s already reaching between the pillows. And you don’t even question it when she pulls out the toy—the double-ended dildo—with the vibe attachment already clipped near one end. A soft hum buzzes to life in her hand.

Your body reacts before your brain does. She’s already shifting over you, eyes hooded and hungry.

“C’mere.”

The toy’s already slick by the time Zoey slides down onto her end, her thighs trembling as the thick silicone stretches her open. She exhales like it’s been building inside her all morning.

You’re not any better.

The second you lower yourself onto the other end—hips pressed to hers, your folds pressed flush—you both gasp in unison.

It’s thick. Too thick. Too good.

Zoey’s hand finds your hip, nails digging in.

“Fuck—move,” she pants. “Please, move.”

You grind first. Once. Twice. The bulb inside you shifts just right, and the vibration from the midpoint starts to sing against both your clits.

“Ah—shit—”

You both lose it. Grinding, rocking, chasing friction like animals. The wet slap of skin, the buzz of the toy, the heat between you—it’s all too much.

You’re trying to kiss her but your rhythm keeps faltering because the pressure’s too fucking perfect and you can’t stop moaning.

“Ride it,” she begs. “Fucking ride it, baby, don’t stop—”

The toy hits deep, squelching between both your bodies. The bed is soaked beneath you. The vibe is relentless. Zoey grabs your ass, pulling you down against her harder, grinding her swollen clit into yours until she’s trembling.

Her head falls back.

“Oh my—f-fuck—don’t stop, I’m—fuck—I’m gonna—”

You don’t even hear the front door open.

You don’t hear the quiet footsteps down the hallway.

You definitely don’t notice when Rumi and Mira stop in the doorway, an iced coffees in each hand—and freeze.

Because what they see is you, drenched in sweat and slick, riding Zoey like it’s life or death. Your fingers tangled in her hair, her back arched, the double-ended toy deep inside you both, your bodies grinding in an obscene rhythm.

Zoey is begging. You’re whimpering.

The toy buzzes louder.

Wet. Loud. Raw.

You don’t see Mira’s jaw drop. You don’t see Rumi slowly sip her coffee, eyes wide.

You don’t even notice they’re there.

Because Zoey grabs your hips and thrusts up—and it knocks the air out of your lungs.

You collapse forward, forehead against hers.

“Don’t stop,” she whines. “Please, baby, please, please—”

Your rhythm breaks—you're both just humping now, wild and soaked, the toy squelching and buzzing so loud it drowns out everything else. Your thighs are shaking. Her legs are trembling. Her hands clutch your back like she’ll die if you stop.

“I’m—Zoey—I’m—!”

You both come together.

Hard.

Screaming.

Bodies jerking as the vibrator milks both your clits through it, overstimulation wrecking you both.

You slump forward, tangled, kissing her lazily with broken breaths.

And that’s when you hear it.

A slow. Fucking. Clap.

“…Well damn,” Rumi says, leaning against the doorframe. “You two forgot how to lock a door?”

Zoey’s eyes go wide.

You freeze.

Mira is standing stiff, cheeks red, very clearly staring. She's not even blinking. Just—watching.

“…You guys wanna join next time?” Zoey mutters, flushed and breathless.

Rumi raises an eyebrow.

Mira finally speaks.

“…Only if I get your end next time,” she says, her voice low.

Zoey smirks. You groan into the pillow.

meow

ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3

lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications

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[2truthsand1lie]

Girlfriend Privileges

Salma stumbles upon a video of you at one of the dance workshops you occasionally fit in around your schedule. She sends it to Pina who instantly tells Patri who then texts it to Jenni...and you're met by a very intrigued striker the next day who wants to know why you don't break out those moves during team dance parties.

Wordcount: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+ for language, mentions of sex, and general horniness.

“So about this dance video,” you hear her softly drawl from behind as she circles around to sit across from you at the otherwise empty lunch table.

“Mmm?” you ask, waiting for her to elaborate as you take another bite of your lunch.

“Patri showed me. You dance? Like professional level shit.”

“I don’t know about that. But I have danced since I was una niña. And occasionally in the present when an interesting choreo has a class that lines up with our schedule, I still do,” you answer easily.

“And the outfit. A white crop top paired with your soccer sweats – this is normal attire for these classes?”

“Why are you so interested in what I do in my off-time, Hermoso?”

“Just intrigued. Never seen you dance like that before,” she mutters, running a hand through her hair. “You never dance like that during our locker room dance parties.”

You smirk. Ah, she liked it. You aren’t above playing with her. “Well,” you drop your voice a bit lower, “Those moves are saved for dance classes and girlfriend privileges.”

You see her eyes widen minutely before they settle back into an indifferent stare. But the slightly deeper intake of breath alerts you that you’ve affected her with your words.

“Is that so?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Well, are you busy tonight?” she asks nonchalantly.

You laugh at her boldness. She’s always been confident. And you’ve always been attracted to it. But knowing you are affecting her has increased your own boldness too. “I said girlfriend privileges, Jennifer. Not girl-of-the-night privileges.”

She smirks at you. “Ok, then let me take you to dinner, cari. You never did answer me the last time I asked you.”

“Well, the last time you asked you were recently out of a very long, very established relationship. And I am not a rebound girl,” you add lightly, smiling at the striker so she knows your comments aren’t meant to sting but provide clarity.

“You definitely are not,” Jenni states softly, nodding. “But it’s been months since then, and you know I’ve been focusing on myself. So, will you go to dinner with me tonight?”

“Maybe another night,” you answer as you stand, finished with lunch. “I have another dance class tonight,” you offer over your shoulder as a tease. “The song for the class is In Those Jeans. I’m sure you’ll find the dance moves for this one very intriguing.”

You turn around to face the front and catch an eyebrow raise from Alexia as she strolls into the lunch room, clearly hearing the end of your comment to Jenni. Their break-up caused a ripple of tension through the team, forced sides even if they themselves never demanded it. The team talks, gossips really, about anything. And their relationship and the end of it was no different. Girls took sides based on zero information. And while you had a little more information than most, you tried to stay neutral.

Ultimately you weren’t wholly successful. Jenni was always a strong presence on the team, but Alexia was captain. And many of your teammates crossed the centerline to stand on her side of the break up, leaving Jenni isolated on a team that used to be filled with her people too. You knew more than them, saw how the break up affected Jenni. Jenni who is always laughing, bringing light out in others. Or rather was. You didn’t see much of that side of Jenni after their split. Even now, she’s so much more serious, very intentional with her words and actions and who she interacts with. You and Leila the two who firmly planted themselves on Jenni’s side of the chasm.

Even without the details, though, you’re fairly certain you still would have defected to Jenni’s side. Because the only thing you hate more than your teammates gossiping with zero info is watching them change their behavior with Jenni when she had gone out of her way to support each of them throughout the years. Only to watch them withdraw when she could have used those friendships most. And you’ve always rooted for the underdog. And in this fight, Alexia vs. Jenni within the Barcelona circle, Jenni was most definitely the underdog.

You shrug non-committedly at Alexia. You still work well on the field. You still treat each other with respect. But it’s been a long while since you’ve hung out together outside of team functions. Jenni is who brought you into both of their lives before their split anyways. You were her friend first. Had been since your paths crossed during her Atlético Madrid playing days.

So, while you recognize neither is solely to blame for the split, you still hold some small part of sadness that Alexia did nothing to stop the team from freezing out Jenni. She was the one that held the power to mend it – being one of the two with the knowledge of the whole truth as well as the captain of the team. And she didn’t. You’re not sure you can forgive her for allowing others to treat Jenni like that, even if their intimate relationship ended. It is not what you would have allowed. And before this year, you would have confidently claimed the same about Alexia.

She proved you wrong. And you’re not sure where this new version of Alexia you don’t fully recognize merges with the woman you spent years having a close friendship with. Due to Jenni, sure. But you two had forged a bond all your own. Similar is so many ways. But it’s obvious to you now, also so, so different in how you handle your emotions and relationships with others. You quick to speak up, tackle things in the moment. Her preferring to let things blow over silently. Mend it after the fact.

You can feel eyes burning up your back as you return your dishes to the stand in the corner of the training lunch room. You’re not sure if they are Jenni’s or Alexia’s. You turn to head to your film session with the other defenders when a tattooed arm catches your wrist softly, gently pulling you back to face her.

“Tomorrow night then?” Jenni murmurs at you, eyes intense.

You can feel a shiver run down your spine at her lowered tone. Can imagine it being used in another scenario. Feel the tables being turned on you as she presses lightly into your space, causing your breath to hitch slightly before you clamp your lips closed tightly. You’ve always been drawn to her. But with her relationship with Alexia so present, so solid, friends are all you were destined to be. Until that relationship imploded. And now you’re in a limbo of your own making – remain friends with Jenni or chose to follow her into something more, ignoring the potential repercussion of affecting the team dynamics.

The edges of a smirk on her lips let you know she noticed your body’s reaction to her. So much for having the upper hand.

She’s soft touches and earnest eyes showing hope. And you realize you want to say yes.

Ingrid’s call to you from down the hall breaks the moment. “Let’s go! Film starts in 2 minutes – you’re already late!” she calls out to you with a sigh.

You roll your shoulders to loosen the tension that has settled there from your non-verbal interaction with Alexia and the sexually charged one with Jenni.

You can see (and feel) a stare leveled at you from the corner of your eye – know that this time it’s Alexia watching you. Watching you with Jenni. You know that there’s still love there. Perhaps not intimate anymore, but you don’t live and love and grow with someone for as many years as they have and not have love embedded in your soul for said person in some capacity. You know Ale’s moved on – has a new girlfriend. You hope she wants the same for Jenni too.   

You stretch up on your toes, placing your hands on Jenni’s shoulders as you go to whisper in her ear. Her hands come to rest low on your hips, steadying you. “Ok, let’s give this a shot, hmm? Pick me up at 9 tomorrow?” You'll be at the hotel for your away game, but that's never stopped anyone from sneaking a date in regardless.

She smiles, dimples on display. “You won’t regret it. Wear that green dress?”

You chuckle lowly, knowing exactly which one she’s referring to. You got a lot of looks the night you wore that to the club’s holiday party. Seems she was one of them.

You settle back down on your feet, placing a hand on her clothed abs. Voice low. Words meant just for her. “I would never regret you, Jen. I knew your heart wasn’t ready yet, back then, for what I think this could become.” You’ve shown more of your cards than you ever planned. But her eyes are so open, so gentle that you can’t help it. You know the two of you will be able to maintain your friendship even if all this ends up being is one date.

Outside of recent events, Jenni has maintained a friendship with every one of her ex-girlfriends. And you’re sure her and Alexia will get there too with time and space. The usual worries surrounding dating a close friend aren’t present for you with her. She’s Jenni. You know if things don’t settle into a relationship that your friendship will remain intact.

Her hands pull you in towards her body, engulfing you in a hug. Her lips find your ear. “I think it could be something too. I’ll pick you up at 9pm.”

You can’t help yourself. She’s warm and the feeling of being wrapped up in her arms, somehow so different from the embraces you’ve received from her before despite being the exact same motion, has you turning your head into her neck. You leave a soft kiss there, just under her pulse point. Hear her inhale sharply. Feel her arms squeeze you slightly and drop a kiss to the crown of your head before letting you go, pushing you towards the hallway.

Hear Alexia’s voice as you leave the room, asking what that was.  She doesn’t sound upset, more curious. You smirk as you hear Jenni’s firm response that it’s none of her business. Not said in anger. You can almost see Alexia’s frustrated eye roll in your mind, though. Would bet money on it. Chica hates not being in the know.

You’re definitely late for film review now. Are sure you’ll get the stink eye from the defensive coach. You hate being seen as unprofessional. But really don’t care in this moment, body still thrumming with energy. You’re glad you have that dance class today – you really need an outlet.

As expected, you’re 5 minutes late to the film session. Not that they’ve actually started reviewing film on your opponents for the upcoming match. But you do still receive an exasperated look from the coach leading the session. You smile sheepishly and offer a quick apology as you slink into a seat next to Ingrid.

It’s rare that you’re late. Ingrid raises an eyebrow at you. Her girlfriend, Mapi, leans across her to speak to you during the brief lull in the instruction from the front as the film reels are pulled up. Ingrid sighs audibly as Mapi leans across her entire lap to get closer to your face. You can’t help but chuckle. Poor Ingrid.

“You’re never late,” Mapi states.

“True,” you agree.

“But you were late today.”

“Astute observation, Mapi,” you drawl. Turning to Ingrid you offer, “Does she always state the obvious?” Smirk at the huff of indignation Mapi lets out at you talking about her over her head.

Ingrid smirks back. “Frequently,” she deadpans.

Mapi narrows her eyes at her girlfriend. “You’re meant to always take my side in any banter,” she demands. “It’s a girlfriend requirement.”

“Hmm, must have missed that in the contract, kjære,” Ingrid replies, leaning back in her seat as Mapi remains draped over her lap. 

“Why were you late?” Mapi asks, turning her attention back on you. 

You shrug. “Lunch.” 

She narrows her eyes. “You didn’t have enough on your plate when we left to hold you up an extra 10 minutes. You were basically done.” 

You sigh happily as the coach shushes the group, turning off the light as the film starts. “Shh,” you reiterate to Mapi. “Film is starting.” 

She lets out a grunt of dissatisfaction at the dismissal. Mapi might just be one of the biggest gossips on the team, second only to Patri. But where Patri’s gossiping comes from a lack of filter, the girl cannot keep a secret to save her life, Mapi’s comes from a desire to know everything happening with everyone. And you’d prefer she doesn’t dig too far into why you were late. You’re sure she might learn a bit of your interaction with Jenni later, if Alexia shares it with her (which is likely), but no need to give her fuel yourself now.    

---------------------------

You’re one of the first out of the room after the film session concludes, brain still rattling with bullet points to keep in mind about Real Madrid’s offense for the upcoming match. Mapi tries to catch up to you, but you hear the defensive coach call her name for a chat and smirk victoriously as you head for the locker room. Not today, Maps. 

Your other teammates had a physio session while all the defenders went over film, so the locker room is already packed with players in various stages of undress as they shower and change before heading home for the day. The team leaves for Madrid tomorrow mid-day, and most are eager to enjoy the few extra hours off today before plunging head first into an intense stretch of travel, match, travel, recovery only to repeat it again all within a 10-day stretch. 

The brass nameplate displayed for locker #9 calls you home. Jenni is already there, sitting at the bench within your locker instead of her actual one that sits right next to yours in the #10 spot. Seeing Alexia obviously loitering at her own space on the other side of Jenni’s, you decide not to say anything and slot right into Jenni’s locker instead, sitting down and spreading your legs as your lean down to untie your shoes. 

Jenni’s knee knocks lightly against yours, and you turn your head to shoot her a smile. She sends you a small one in return, gratitude showing in her eyes at your easy acceptance of the new seating arrangements you walked into. You shrug and stick your tongue out at her which causes a laugh to bubble out of her.

You track the way her eyes crinkle up in the corner, a sure mark of her authentic happiness. It brings a smirk to your lips, which remains in place as you stand and reach into your own locker to grab your shower items. 

A quick shower later and you’re back sitting at Jenni’s locker, pulling on the clean clothes of yours that had been hanging in your locker before Jenni stole it and relocated your clothes to hers instead.

“How kind of you,” you murmur to the striker sitting at your locker, phone out scrolling social media, clearly waiting for you.

“Hmm?” she asks, watching a droplet of water fall from your hair and track down your neck until it disappears down the valley between your breasts, towel hiding the rest of its descent from view.

“See something you like?” you tease softly, chuckling.

You can see Alexia watching your interaction, wheels turning. You don’t want this to become yet another roadblock for the team or your personal relationship with Alexia, whatever might happen between you and Jenni.

“Ready for Real Madrid, Ale?” you question lightly as you towel off your hair and turn towards the locker, changing into a bra and underwear. Having a conversation while changing has long removed any awkwardness any of you have with nudity. The world within the locker room exists only within the confines of those four walls. It’s a fact everyone respects.

Alexia looks startled for a second, not expecting you to address her. It’s been a while since either of you have initiated conversation off the pitch unless necessary for training. The conversation is still football-centric which points to the strain that still exists there, but your olive branch is accepted.

“The team is looking good,” she answers. “I think we’re ready.”

You nod in agreement. “Good. We’ve got the defense locked down. Just need you and Jenni to net us some goals,” you demand as you pull on your jeans.

She scoffs. “You say that like it’s the easiest thing to do.”

You chuckle. “Isn’t it? Scoring a goal takes less effort than defending against them.”

Jenni joins in the conversation. “Cari, I cannot believe you just said that! Scoring is not effortless! It takes years of training to be as good as Ale and I are. Doesn’t it, Ale?” she adds, eyes turning to Alexia. You’re not sure you’ve seen her voluntarily speak to Alexia in a while. And the midfielder must feel the same based on the surprise showing on her face.

She snaps out of her trance quickly, though. “Exactly. We’ve honed these skills. Besides, you have an entire person behind you in case you mess up!”

“Pfft, Mapi. Do you hear this nonsense? Ale and Jenni think being a goal scorer is harder than being a defender,” you call out to the center back as she enters the locker room.

“Definitely not!” she yells out. “Anybody can score a goal. Only specific players are built to be defenders.”

That causes both Jenni and Alexia to scoff in unison, sharing a small grin between themselves.

“Ok, María, we expect a goal in the game against Real Madrid from one of you defenders then,” Jenni states.

“Yeah, shouldn’t be hard if it’s so easy,” Alexia adds, hands on her hips.

Mapi isn’t one to back down from a challenge. “Deal,” she states confidently, holding out her hand to Ale to shake.

The blonde defender then turns to you as you finish getting dressed, pulling your white t-shirt over your head. “Better get us a goal,” she says to you.

“What! Why me?”

“Because you started this whole conversation and dragged me into it,” she adds with a laugh as she heads to the showers, leaving you to mutter and shake your head at her retreating back.

“Ingrid,” you yell out to the tall Norwegian as she enters the locker room and immediately grabs her shower stuff from her locker nearby. “Mapi said you need to score a goal against Real Madrid. Said she’ll reward you for it,” you tease, raising your eyebrows suggestively. “Sounds like you’ll be in for a wild night, chica!”

A deep blush covers Ingrid’s cheeks. She quickly heads for the showers, muttering under her breath. Interesting. You’ll dig into that later with Mapi. You aren’t above digging for a bit of gossip yourself. 

Jenni laughs, causing you to join. “You’re dirty,” she adds. 

“Nah, I just showered,” you joke back. 

Alexia snorts and rolls her eyes at your dad joke before grabbing her bag and heading out of the locker room, mumbling about cocky defenders.

The room is cleared at this point with the exception of Mapi and Ingrid who just headed off for their showers. When you turn back to Jenni, she’s much closer, her face near yours.

“She’s not wrong, you know,” she rasps lowly. “You are cocky.” 

You smirk. “As if you aren’t turned on by that.” 

“Oh, I absolutely am,” she confesses quickly, eyes darkening. 

“Maybe you should do something about it, then,” you challenge breathlessly as she steps further into your space, hands placed on either side of your head, bracketing in your body. 

“I plan to,” she mutters into your ear. “But that’ll have to wait for after our date.” 

“Why wait?” you ask, voice betraying your desire. Your hands land on her hips, trying to pull her closer. 

Her body resists, maintaining the small distance between your lower bodies. She tuts at you. “Cari, cari, look at you trying to get into my pants before our first date. It’s almost like you can’t get enough of me.” 

“Ok, huge ego,” you snort, pointing at her chest with your pointer finger. “But for the record, I can’t. I want you too much,” you add softly. 

You hear Jenni’s inhale. Feel her body sway in towards yours for a second before she controls herself. “Fuck, cari,” she answers, dropping her head into the crook of your neck. 

A gasp is pulled from your mouth when her lips start kissing at the junction between your neck and shoulder. The soft moan that follows finally is what snaps her resolve, her hips pressing into yours, pushing your ass back into the wall behind you, a wanton moan escaping you. 

Your hands grip for something to hold onto, her arms, her shoulders. Anything. Her mouth is quick and hot and everywhere. Your pulse point, the column of your neck, the skin showing from where your t-shirt with the too big collar slopes off your shoulder. 

One of your hands rakes through her hair, before eventually settling to grip the back of her neck. She groans as you squeeze lightly. You’re not sure any sound has ramped up your arousal quite like this one. 

Your grip on her neck pulls her lips off your neck, directing them to yours instead. And your head spins as she finally kisses you properly.

Your head is thrumming with that flushed, heady feeling that hits when alcohol finally kicks in, leaving you a boneless puddle of relaxation. You hum into her mouth as her tongue swipes for entrance. The girl can kiss.  

Right as you go to deepen it further, you hear the water turn off. Oh right, Mapi and Ingrid. 

The two of you separate, chests heaving slightly. Jenni’s lips are the plump pink that only comes from lips that have been put to use. The striker runs a thumb over yours, clearly in the same headspace. Fucking aroused.  

You want to do something about it, want Jenni. You grab your bag in one hand and her wrist in the other, headed for the door before Mapi and Ingrid make it back in the room. She follows obediently, no words needed. 

You slide your hand from her wrist down to hold her hand in yours. She lets you. Smiles when you look to check it’s okay. 

“My place?” you ask breathlessly as you reach your car in the parking lot. 

Jenni grins. “Ah, gotta wait for our date, cari.” 

“Why?” you whine. You want her now, so what if the date is tomorrow. Tomorrow you’ll be in a hotel in Madrid sharing a room with a teammate. You won’t have the option to take Jenni to bed after your date. But you have the option right now… 

Jenni pulls you in for a quick peck and then slides her lips past yours to whisper into your ear. “I’m after those girlfriend privileges.” And with that she spins away from you, headed to her vehicle. 

You stand dumbfounded, mouth open at the brazenness of the madrileña. You’re so turned on. And she’s walking away like she’s unaffected. 

“I have a restaurant in Madrid in mind for our date, cari. Hope you still like seafood,” she teases, eyes shades darker than normal, giving away that she too is affected by this attraction between you two. 

“I do,” you confirm. Your head is spinning, trying to talk your way out of your previous assertion about girlfriend privileges and not letting Jenni into your pants before a date.

“I have a few hours before my dance class,” you venture, leaning against your vehicle.  

Jenni raises a singular eyebrow. “Ok?” 

“Let’s do lunch,” you offer. Jenni smiles.

“What if I’m busy?” 

“Are you?” you ask, eyebrow raising. 

“No,” she chuckles. “But, sure, let’s do lunch.” 

“Good,” you answer, indicating she should get in your vehicle instead of hers.

Jenni slides into the passenger seat.

“Let’s do lunch,” you parrot. “Because after, I plan on doing you,” you state as you peal out of the lot. 

Her unrestrained laughter is her only answer. “So, I’ve been granted girlfriend privileges?”

“Yes, Jennifer,” you reply, rolling your eyes.

“This must be a record, cari. I got me a girlfriend before the first date!” she teases, hand landing high on your thigh, fingers splaying possessively as they curl over the inseam of your jeans. “The game I must have,” she states cockily.

You pull up at a red light and take the opportunity to place a hand of your own on her thigh, dangerously close to her center as you lean over the console to place a kiss right under her ear, teeth scraping her skin slightly. The resulting gasp drives you to drop a filthy kiss to her lips before the light changes to green and you drive off as if nothing happened.

“Wha?” she stutters.

“We both know I’m the one with the better game here,” you murmur, eyes flicking to hers, watching how dilated her pupils look. “All it took to get you all hot and bothered was a dance video,” you tease gently.

“You looked so fucking hot,” Jenni confesses. “I think that video short-circuited my brain,” she adds, sliding down a little further in her seat, squeezing her thighs together. “Might have saved it to my phone,” she confesses.

“Well, if I haven’t worn you out with lunch, maybe I’ll bring you along to my class tonight. You can watch live – and then maybe after I’ll give you a private performance,” you state, smirking.

Jenni groans, head thrown back as the sun filters through the car window. “I love girlfriend privileges!”

[pompompurinwife]

like me back!

18. kiss it better ☆

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a suna x reader smau

written portion!

yn pov

taptaptap.

i make my way over to the window and slide it over. rin’s brought me a present this time.

i try to hide the satisfaction in my voice, but i think rin sees right through me, “flowers again? do you have a garden or something?”

with an outstretched arm, rin tells me to, “just take them.” then, he brushes off any excess debris off of himself, before perching himself on my bed like he’s done this a thousand times. i, on the other hand, keep my distance and lean against my desk across the room.

“so,” rin’s playful tone breaks the deafening silence, “are we just gonna keep staring at each other or what?”

i’m slightly annoyed at his attempt to make a joke given the circumstances. he cocks a brow at me, clearly trying to read my mind. i know i should be mad. i know i should be furious. i mean, come on. you get mixed signals for a few months, then you watch him kiss one of your closest friends? any girl with half a brain would dump him and move on. what kind of a fool would give him yet another chance?

i guess this makes me a fool.

i straighten up and cross my arms, trying to mask my emotions before replying, “you wanted to talk, so talk. i’m listening.”

i listen to rintaro as he tells me everything—exactly what happened, what his intentions were, and what his intentions weren’t. i can tell just from the sound of his voice how honest he is and how he truly never had bad intentions in the first place. he goes on and spares me no detail, but finally, and most importantly, he tells me how sorry he is about the entirety of the situation. he sounds so vulnerable, i almost think he’s about to cry.

how could anyone do this to such a sweet boy?

“are you still mad at me?”

“rintaro, i was never mad at you,” i pause and take a moment to stand up and make my way towards him, “i just never knew i meant so much to you. but i’m glad you told me.”

i move to stand directly in front of rintaro and cup my hands around his jaw to tilt his head up at me. i pretend not to notice the pink hue around his ears that definitely wasn’t there before. and i can almost feel the heat creeping up his neck and spreading across his face. we’re quiet like this for a bit.

rintaro gestures for me to step back so he can stand up. he advances towards me, while still keeping my hands around his neck, until the back of my legs hit the desk.

“it’s getting late, i should probably head home soon. but, yn, i need to know something… i need to know if i still have a chance with you.”

this makes me smile. i know i could say of course rin, you’ve always had me. i know i can tell him about how long i’ve waited to hear those words. but i don’t. because i can’t let him have me that easily. not after everything we’ve been through.

so instead, i pull his face towards mine and let him close the gap between our lips.

when i feel rintaro pull away i smile against his lips, “it’s a good thing you’re better at kissing than you are at communicating.” i pull back to look up at him and whisper, “keep it up and i might just make you mine.”

notes:

if you are confused ab the timeline it is around the end of november in the story!

i am LOVING how the story is gonna turn out!!!

muahahahhaa you guys probably thought it was gonna be super angsty

also i despise writing.... but i knew i had to write this chapter so i am sorry if it sucks LMAOO

also if you think yn forgave him too soon please look at this 🙏

no kana…..for now…..

taglist: closed

@ykmsnml @mizxuqii @soynomnom @dilaya @ashylovesfrogs @namesarehard123 @minstarrs @yueriasblog @meiups @ayumiheartsriki @hanarinlol @kozumiie @total-insanity @iwmkmp @andysdrafts @smellysluna @ilove-suna-and-oikawa @truthfullyfantasticassassin @riritaro @defnotra @malikazz243 @viietta @ist4rr @peteunderoos @aditionallyy @stars4pais @whitelpttia @sunaringo @mattsukitty @vivamints @sequesteredstrawberry @superawesomegirl33 @lexyqh @itsinesok @ventiij @ramyrunn @florasheart @strwbrrywnrgsm @yare-yare0 @bambi-lia @shookykookie30 @literallymocha @zciene @lovelytaes-blog @ttargaryenparad @urfavgeminisblog @hyukazwifey @sagitsukiss @beepbopeepbo @n3pt0nee @eternalangellic @cmrskywlkr @raveywrites @emotional-zebra @satan-223 @sugacor3 @accidentpronedork @k0z3me @tsukishimamanman @riripetal @sal3mfr0gz @tsuyukix @fishvstheworld @riiceandsoup @jnfectedz @sophiahearttss @lildidi @nivabiva @big-ballsack @cherrythebest @knkzshx @xsbraa @ilovecloudstrife

[creatingblackcharacters]

Although I was kinda already in the middle of making my own discord server for members of my community (Australian Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders) when I saw the multiple wacky asks you got from whitefella who were like “b-but I wanna be in Black spaces too 🥺 why can't I join”...when I saw those asks it kinda just really solidified for me that we all need our own spaces away from whitefella really fucking badly, and it got me working harder in spite to get the server up and running more quickly lmao. Ever since I learned how much of a white echo chamber tumblr was it really clicked in my head why so many of the experiences I had on tumblr were...well....LIKE THAT, if you know what I mean lol. From ppl misunderstanding core concepts of Landback to seeing ppl having such a rough time even enjoying any type of music made by Black ppl at all...I feel like I've been fighting wolves this whole time, and It's really just disheartened me how incredibly outnumbered we all are on this website...I think in almost any other circumstance I might've left this place... but if I did that, then tumblr would end up an even *more* white echo chamber than before, and I just cannot allow that to happen. I kinda exist on tumblr in spite lol. But at the same time...Black only (or in my case, Aboriginal only) spaces away from whitefella prying eyes (esp on tumblr) feel necessary at this point. Idk I feel like all I've been seeing on tumblr every time I open this damn app up as the wackiest and most insane of racist bullshit and I'm trulllyyyy tired of it all. Maybe I need a break lol.

But despite all that shit I'm SO glad your blog exists and I salute you and all the work you do, especially doing it for free. I love reading your posts and your lessons and seeing the artwork that gets posted here. I feel inspired to keep going and to not like, stop existing here on tumblr when there are other cool ppl here on tumblr fighting the good fight, you know? 🖤💛❤️

I love that y'all say "whitefella". Like we say "white folk", but y'all made like a whole new combined word. Whitefella.

I will say, I do think that the asks I've gotten have been in good faith, but- as we say often here- intent is not outcome. So regardless of them intending to just ask "why", even the need to ask is privileged, and quite chafing- precisely driving home why we need those spaces!

I feel you on the spite bit- it's part of why I still create. No one is allowed to treat me like I just Can't Participate unless I'm white or acceptably (submissively) Of Color incenses me. You hate that I make this character Black and that he's "wrong" for liking the music I listen to? Now I'm going to write it even more- because what are you gonna do about it, other than die racist, mad, and still in the wrong? 😐 We deserve to be here and take up just as much space as you!

That's ironically another thing about the conversation- I'm not sure if white folk realize just how many spaces are only accommodating for them. Schools, neighborhoods, jobs- so many things designed to automatically accommodate The Default. That's hard to deal with on a regular basis, which is why you would want a break to be with something that is built for You, too.

You might definitely need a break, though. Tumblr can drain away your desire and it doesn't sound like you're having a great time. Take some time and come back when you're ready. I take breaks too 🙏🏾 The war is long; pick your battles.

[makingfanfictionstosleep]

the cure to his burdens

xavier x non mc || angst & hurt || happy ending || mc is kinda pick me || written after zayne's the cure to his nightmare fic || could be triggering for others so read at your own risk || this is smut - mdni || story masterlist : love and deepspace

previous next

THREE

Xavier couldn't understand how things had begun to spiral, how their shared space had become so charged with an unbearable tension. Not the kind that thrilled him, no.

This was the kind that made him tremble with an unknown anxiety, a subtle tremor deep within his core.

He knew, the moment he succumbed to raw impulse, the instant he leaned in to meet your lips with his, giving in to the unexpected comfort you offered that night—he knew then that he had taken advantage of you.

And he knew he had been taking advantage of this entire, fragile setup ever since.

But then again, he wasn't one for emotions. Or rather, not for verbally announcing them to the world.

He knew the moment MC had chosen to break his heart, he would spiral.

And he had.

Yet, that moment—with Sylus and his second-in-command, the stark realization of how that man had chosen to break the curse, his fated and doomed bond with MC… Xavier had yearned for the same.

He had yearned for that kind of freedom, that brutal severing of destiny.

But could he really?

After all, he wasn't just a hunter. He was the Prince of Philos, the future king of his land, and in that timeline, MC would have been his queen.

Could he, the future king, simply abandon that possibility?

All his life, he had been bound to her. He was here in this timeline precisely to search for a way to be with her without sacrificing his life or hers… simply because he wanted to build a life with her.

In that timeline.

But Xavier failed to consider, a crucial miscalculation in his strategic plans, a glaring flaw in his otherwise meticulously curated map—was you.

Because while he felt deeply, irrevocably devoted to MC, yes, even after she had shattered his damn heart, he failed to consider the unpredictable, faulty nature of the human heart and its tempestuous emotions.

Did he feel guilty? Definitely.

Did he feel confused? Absolutely.

Was he conflicted? More than ever before.

After all, apart from his fated ties with MC in that timeline, he still had a duty to uphold to his people.

The ones who had followed him—the backtrackers—along with his longtime friend and comrade, Jeremiah.

Was it heavy? Yes. Impossibly heavy.

The weight of a whole planet rested on his damn fucking shoulders. Literally.

But you, the miscalculated variable, had become his very safe space.

For some reason, he knew how sex changed everything. And he knew, with a sickening certainty, that he might be stringing you along.

It was wrong. On so many levels.

One, it wasn’t very prince-ly of him to treat a beautiful and precious girl like you as his personal fuck-toy.

Two, it wasn't very prince-ly of him to possibly drag you into his inter-dimensional mess.

Three, it wasn’t very prince-ly of him to make you fall in love with him.

He knew his mother would smack his head for acting like this, like an uncontrolled monster whenever you were around. He couldn't help but want you, become greedy and possessive, desire you even when every fiber of his being was supposed to be devoted to MC—the future queen of his planet in his own timeline.

But could he really stop himself?

Could he truly control himself from taking what you were offering, every single, vulnerable bit of yourself, until he had utterly, irrevocably ruined you?

He knew he should.

But something deep inside him, something that the raw, brutal incident with Sylus had awakened, was making him not want to stop.

Something deep within him was leaning towards you, away from MC.

Something primal within him was craving to fully claim you, to ruin you for anyone else, to make you his and nobody else's.

The question gnawed at him: Could he bear the consequences?

Could he really leave everything behind?

Was he allowed to think for himself, to desire for himself, to take what he truly wanted?

But at that moment, Xavier couldn't think.

Not when he had to sort through a mountain of cosmic shit, the fate of worlds hanging in the balance.

And he was too terrified—or maybe this was just him being a coward—that if he made any decisive move, any declaration, it might drive you away from him entirely.

Even before he could truly call you his. Not as a fuck-buddy. But as someone more important and precious than that.

What Xavier didn't know, however, was just how much it already hurt you. Or maybe he did, deep down, but he was too profoundly, selfishly greedy to truly acknowledge the depths of your silent anguish.

Why?

Because no one had ever truly seen him the way you did.

No one had ever made him feel so utterly comfortable, so unguarded and vulnerable, yet paradoxically, so incredibly safe at the same time.

With you, he could just be. Just Xavier. Not the prince, not the future king, not the formidable hunter.

Simply Xavier.

He cherished every quiet gesture you made for him: the way you ensured he was well-nourished with hearty, delicious home-cooked meals, a stark contrast to his usual desolate takeout.

How you would sit with him on nights when sleep evaded his weary mind, when all he could see behind his closed eyelids was the catastrophic destruction of his own planet.

How you would ramble about whatever mundane, comforting shit for hours, your voice a soft, hypnotic lullaby that soothed his ravaged soul.

He appreciated how you would seek out the fluffiest, most comfortable hoodies for him to wear, the softest blankets for him to curl into, most especially when you allowed him the quiet intimacy of using your thighs, your chest, or your stomach as his personal pillow.

And Xavier, in his quiet, emotionally stunted way, truly thought his actions would be enough.

He believed it was enough to show you how he was choosing you every day by simply coming home to you, by finding his way to your shared bed.

He thought making you feel wanted, making you feel satisfied in the throes of their intimacy, giving you his precious off-mission time, was proof enough of his regard, his affection.

He thought words were not needed.

But that, tragically, was where Xavier truly, profoundly miscalculated.

Maybe he was too complacent. Too comfortable in the easy rhythm you’d built, in the effortless way you slotted into his life.

Maybe he was too arrogant to even consider that you would leave him, that you would shatter this fragile, undefined thing you had.

He was too fucking naive to see that MC had been manipulating him, spinning him around her finger, using that "fated" bond as her ultimate, devastating trump card.

And sometimes, far too often, Xavier would fall right back into her traps.

And every single time he did, Xavier failed to see how it had broken you. He failed to see it because you never allowed yourself to show it.

Because there were supposed to be no strings attached.

It was supposed to be only sex.

No entanglements. No drama. No commitments. No obligations. No emotional burdens. No love.

But the rules had shattered around you, leaving you exposed and bleeding.

Each day that passed, the weight of the bed beside him became heavier, his presence a confusing, suffocating element. This love you felt for him was slowly, agonizingly smothering you. Slicing your heart, cutting through it deeply.

Each day Captain Jenna would assign them to a mission—together—it broke your heart into fresh pieces.

You even wished, with a desperate, futile yearning, that you had chosen the hunter career rather than being a researcher, just so that, maybe, just maybe, you could have been Xavier’s partner. Not MC.

But you couldn't demand it from him. You wanted to. With every fiber of your being, you wanted to demand for him to just be yours.

To choose you.

And every time they would disappear through the entrance door, side by side, closely huddled as they discussed strategies—probably more than just strategies—it shattered your heart into tiny, jagged fragments.

Every time they would return, victorious smiles gracing their faces, their energy and chemistry palpable for everyone to see—as if they were truly meant to be together, a perfectly aligned pair—it shattered you.

Because even if you wanted to demand something from Xavier, you couldn't.

You wouldn't.

Because he had every damn right to choose who he wanted to love.

And his touches, his affections, his attention to you, once a source of illicit comfort, had become something that was breaking you even more.

Because you were starting to question: Why were you even here?

If she was already there for him.

[theorphicangel]

Shy s/o again,,,,, but with Satoru for Satoru friday!!! Unlike Sukuna, Satoru has the energy for the both of them, and frankly less of a menace and tease TT

But I’d like to imagine that he and his s/o don’t get it right at first either,,,, so a little angst maybe? 👀 Love your work by the way!!

hello!!!! i love love love shy s/o!!! thank you so much for sending in asks!! thank you so much for reading my works!! <333 this was meant to be a drabble but i kept on yapping...sorry

if we're talking about the younger version of gojo then i agree that it would start off a little rough. you are both the complete opposites of each other. he's the definition of yapping whilst you sit behind him and suguru without saying a word.

"sometimes it's like you're not even there" is a comment he throws over his shoulder, peering at you from his glasses.

it stings especially coming from someone like him. you knew very well who he was and the status of his clan which made you even more nervous to be around him.

you don't reply, not knowing what to say as your fingetips graze over the wooden desk, scratching away.

"why are you so quiet? we don't bite y'know?"

suguru lets out a huff. "are you sure about that?" he himself knows how...satoru can overstep with people and it's worse when it's strangers meeting him for the first time. it takes a while to unpack his personality.

it's not a bite but moreso...a bark. constantly.

i would find it really interesting if the reader was actually older than satoru. you're technically his senior yet he doesn't really acknowledge you as one, you're not sure if he's trying to be friendly or deeming your shyness as pathetic, refusing to address you seriously.

I think it takes a few conversations with suguru on your behalf for him to finally understand that some people are just really quiet.

and now you're intriguing him.

but he's still not sure how to approach you. it's awkward between the two of you, whenever you bump into him in the hallway you avoid his eye contact or if he enters a room you leave before he can even make conversation.

taking a note (or few) from suguru he learns not to overstep people's boundaries and space, he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. ever. but if you're hiding away every time you see him then how is he supposed to approach you? i think he would be so dedicated in trying to get to know you because you seem so mysterious despite your shyness and he's heard that you perform well in missions.

he tries to hang around you more, bump into you after your sessions in the training room and tries to convince yaga to put you together for missions.

but he hits the jackpot when he notices you showing off a new digimon card to haibara. now he finally has a reason to talk to you. before you can even run away he interrupts reading the card in your hand, immediately he spews about the characteristics relaying the strengths and weakness from the top of his head.

and all you can do is stare at him.

fast forward a few years and i think the two of you would have adapted to each other's dynamics. ever since that day he came up to you spewing digimon lore something has grown between the two of you.

of course things have changed. a few people have left your circle and the two of you are one of the only people who have stuck together. he's still as social and energetic as ever and you're still a bit shy but there are aspects of being with satoru that helps you break out of your shell. you still wouldn't be the loudest person in the room yet being with satoru helps you to find the confidence to share your thoughts and most importantly, stand up for yourself.

there are moments where the two of you share a quiet space and there are moments where he's the only one making noise but you wouldn't change it for the world.

[hanonfilm]

loveee ur writing can u pls do a carmy fic in the exes to lovers trope? maybe along with some jealousy and angst too? tia <3

a/n: hi tia!! thank you so so much for sending in an ask, im so excited! and thank you so much for reading, it means a ton! i hope this is at least sort of what you had in mind, if there's anything i can add or tweak definitely feel free to let me know! always happy to add stuff on, etc. hope you like it! :)

contains: angst, a break up, mention of mikey, happy ending, guest starring luca.

chicago, now

The kitchen is chaos.

The heat presses in like it’s a second skin, leaving everyone warm and sweaty, tense. 

Carmen runs a hand through his hair. 

“Let's fucking go chefs, move it, we’re behind!”

He says it loud enough for it to bounce off the walls of the kitchen, loud enough to potentially shoot out into the dining room. 

Someone yells, “Heard!”, someone else drops a pan.

You wipe your forehead with the back of your arm and slide a plate onto the pass.

“Two minutes out on the salmon!” you call out.

Carmen doesn’t even look at you.

“More char on that. It’s under.”

You pause, blink at him. “It’s not under.”

“It is.”

You reach for the plate, but he’s already re-firing, his hands are a blur, and you feel yours involuntarily curl into fists.

“I had it under control,” you say, low, tense, your teeth clenched.

He doesn’t respond to you, doesn’t have to. 

Behind you, the printer shoots out about three more tickets.

You spin back toward the station, plating faster now.

“Behind,” you mutter, slipping past him.

“Say it louder next time,” he snaps. 

You slam the spatula onto the counter.

“Maybe you need to pay more attention, chef.”

He looks up at you, sharp, cold. 

“Excuse me?”

You take a deep breath, but it’s already too late. You’re vibrating with rage, exhaustion, and heat. 

“You treat me like I’m one of your fucking interns,” you spit. “I’m not your fucking student, we staged at the same places together, chef.”

He turns fully around, looking you dead in the eye. 

“Then fucking act like it, chef.”

copenhagen, before

The kitchen in Copenhagen had been quieter. Still intense, still cutthroat, but it was silent and cold in a way that was different from the other places you’d staged at. You remember the snow, the way your fingers burned when you left work too late, too tired to feel them thaw.

You remember burning your hand one day- careless, in a rush, reaching for a hot pan, not really thinking about it. You bit down the pain and forced yourself to finish the shift, cradling it behind your back when no one was looking. You didn’t want to step away. You couldn’t afford to seem weak, like you couldn’t handle it, the kitchen. 

Carmy had seen it anyway.

He didn’t say anything until you were both outside after work, coats on, breath and smoke clouding in the air.

Without a word, he reached for your wrist. You flinched at first, but didn’t pull away. He turned your hand over gently with his eyes skimming the angry red surface of your palm.

Then, still silent, he crouched down beside a drift of fresh snow and slowly, deliberately, guided your hand into it.

The cold bit sharp, made you hiss.

“You’ve gotta stop hiding shit like that,” he murmured, close to your ear, not looking at you. His hand stayed wrapped loosely around your wrist. “This place doesn’t reward it, no one comes out to give you a fucking medal for pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

You didn’t respond, just stood there, the snow numbing your burn, his hand steady on yours.

That was the first time you’d touched.

Later, in the shared hostel kitchen, you ate instant noodles out of the same bowl, and didn’t exchange many words. You watched his hands, how careful they were even with a fork, and thought, I could really like you. I could be with you.

You didn’t sleep in your own bed that night. Or the one after that.

new york, almost

New York City was louder than either of you could’ve ever anticipated. Even in the tiny apartment that you shared, sixth floor walk-up, radiator that hissed like it was alive and had something to say, there was still noise. Construction. Sirens. The constant hum of ambition and rush bleeding in from the street.

You both worked doubles, constantly. Staged wherever you could. Slept when you remembered to. Sometimes you would come home just to find Carmy already passed out on the floor in his chef’s jacket, shoes still on, head tipped back against the wall. You’d nudge his foot and he’d grunt something half-asleep, crack one eye open and whisper, “You okay?”

And you’d smile at him and say something like, ‘“Didn’t quite make it to the bed?” 

One of your favorite things about Carmy was how he could make you laugh.

Really laugh, head ripped back, snort, breathless kind of laughing, usually over little things, stupid things. A Yelp review, a guy on the L train screaming about boiled eggs. The way the two of you would show up to dinner service together with matching burns on opposite hands from pots and pans.

You lived off takeout dumplings and your shared hatred of your landlords. You split a single egg for breakfast once because it was all you could really afford at the time. There were nights you came home with fingers bleeding from prep and he’d bandage them with the mini first-aid kit you kept in an old Altoids tin. Sometimes, you kissed, talked for hours on end. Other times, you just stared at the ceiling together, side by side, talking shit, fingers brushing, head on his chest. 

But then the silences started creeping in.

Not the good kind, not the ones from Copenhagen where you were warm in a shared kitchen, quiet in understanding. These were sharp, loaded. He’d be in the middle of rewriting a menu, eyes flicking fast back and forth over some scribbled note in a margin, and you’d ask what he wanted to eat and he just wouldn’t answer. 

Not because he hadn’t heard you, but because he couldn’t be pulled back.

And you, you started keeping things to yourself. Not on purpose, exactly, not at first. It just got harder and harder to explain what you were feeling when every day left your body aching and your heart stretched far too thin. You didn’t want to burden him.

That’s what you told yourself.

The first time you fought, like really fought, it was over a salad.

You said it didn’t need the microgreens, he said it did. You said he wasn’t listening to you, he said maybe you should listen to him more.

You left the apartment that night and walked for three hours. When you came back, you find him asleep, curled up on his side with his hand on your pillow.

You crawled in next to him like nothing had happened.

But something had.

The next morning, the apartment felt colder somehow, despite the thermostat reading the same temperature as usual. Like the warmth had all just slipped out of the back door sometimes after you crawled into bed with him, curled up beside him.

Carmy was already awake when you left the bedroom, coffee cup in his hand, eyes heavy but sharper than usual. He didn’t say good morning. 

You leaned up against the counter, tracing on the chipped sides of the marble.

“I’m tired,” you said.

He nodded, not looking up at you.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” you said, just above a whisper.

He finally met your eyes, tired, frustrated, and something like regret.

“I’m not doing it alone,” he responded, jaw tensing and untensing.

“But it feels like it.”

You took a breath, swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat.

“But I’m not,” he repeated.

“But I am,” you said, quietly.

There was a silence. One of those terrible ones. This great and terrible silence that usually only meant one thing.

The end.

Carmy set his mug down a little too hard on the counter, making you flinch.

“Then maybe you should just go,” he said, not meeting your eyes again.

The words landed on you, hard, mean, cruel. 

His voice was calm, but it felt more like a slap in the face.

You blinked at him.

“I should go?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed a hand over his face, leaned forward line there was a weight on his back pushing him. “I just, fuck, I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what you want me to say. You say I’m not here, I say I am, we’re both tired as shit, and just trying to-” He stopped short, hands gesturing helplessly.

You stared at him.

“Trying to what? Build a life? Build a restaurant? Burn out before thirty?”

He looked up at you then, and there was something in his expression, something worn-down, something stubborn, something…scared.

“I thought this was what we wanted.” 

You laughed, but it wasn’t a real laugh. It was cracked, empty in the middle.

“It was, Carmy, it really was. Maybe it still is. But not like this.”

He swallowed, jaw tight.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means I don’t know how to do this with you if you won’t let me in, Carm,” you said, your voice starting to break. “It means I miss you even when you’re standing right in front of me, and you don’t talk to me, and you make me feel…You make me feel like I’m just another task on your list of things to do, and- and I…I love you, I thought we were building a life together.” 

Carmy exhaled, slow and sharp, like he was trying not to explode. Like he wanted to say a hundred things but knew every one of them would just make it worse, like he wanted to yell like he did at work, scream, throw something. 

When he opened his mouth, he spoke calmly. 

Measured and quiet.

“I never asked you to stay,” he said finally.

You stared at him.

Your mouth opened, then closed again. You didn’t have words for the way that your chest cracked open just then.

“I know,” you said after a moment. “You didn’t have to.”

The silence between you stretched, you felt it wash over you. 

Carmy rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes darting toward the floor.

Then he looked up at you. 

“You want honesty?” he said, voice tight. “Fine.”

You didn’t move. Just waited.

“You talk like I’m the one who shut you out,” he said. “But you- you wanted some, some fantasy. This, like, I don’t know, this fake, made up thing, the boyfriend, this guy who like, wakes up and makes coffee and doesn’t spend every second thinking about everything he hasn’t done yet. You wanted someone who would just make space for you and be with you, but I can’t even make space for myself. But you’re fucking wrong- you don’t fucking know me, okay? Stop acting like you do. You don’t.”

You were quiet for a moment, blinking hard, willing yourself not to cry.

“Okay,” you said, voice steady. “Message received.”

Carmen didn’t stop you when you went into the bedroom.

Didn’t stop you when you started packing a bag.

Didn’t stop you when you took your keys and left.

Didn’t say anything when you came back in the following weeks to take all of your things.

Didn’t say a word.

‘Message received,’ you thought to yourself, taking your last box out of the place that you shared with Carmen, and closing the door for good. 

chicago, now

You look Carmen dead in the eye, dropping what you’re doing entirely.

“Carmen, I came here to help with your restaurant,” you said, words pointed.

“Well, I didn’t fucking ask.”

You don’t blink. “Richie did. And I’m here as a favor- to him. Not to you.”

His jaw tightens, but you don’t stop.

“So I’m going to do what I came here to do. I’m going to do a damn good job at it. And you-” you step in just slightly, eyes lock on his, “you are going to leave me the fuck alone. Because I might be at your restaurant, but I’m not here for you.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Just stares at you like he’s trying to find something familiar in your face…and failing.

The kitchen is silent. Even the sizzle of oil on the stove seems to have fallen quiet, like the walls themselves are holding their breath, waiting to see what might be said next. 

Sydney pauses mid-chop. Tina looks over from the other station, brows lifted, mouthing Damn, to Marcus who has since turned the mixer off. Richie’s eyes bounce from you to Carmen like he’s watching a bomb that’s about to go off.

But Carmen says nothing. Just stares at you, like he’s trying to figure out when you started being someone who looked at him like that. Like he doesn’t even recognize your voice anymore. And he knows it’s his fault.

Then, quietly, he turns and walks away.

You don’t watch him go, you go back to your station. The clang of your knife hitting the board is sharp, steady, controlled. 

You don’t say another word for the rest of the shift.

You’re leaning against the alley wall, jacket barely zipped, the night air biting at your skin. Just trying to breathe. Just trying to come down from it all.

Your hands are trembling, but it’s not from the cold.

The door swings open behind you with a familiar metallic creak. Luca steps out, calm and collected, two cigarettes pinched between his fingers and a lighter in the other.

He offers one without saying anything at first. Just a quiet look.

You accept it, light up, the inhale steadying something in your chest.

“Nice of us to come help out, right?” he says, dryly, a soft laugh under his breath.

You let out a sound somewhere between a scoff and an exhale. “Yeah. Real warm welcome.”

He leans next to you against the wall, close enough to share the silence, but not enough to crowd it.

“I saw what happened,” he adds, voice low. “You alright?”

You hesitate for a moment before replying. “I’m fine.”

He hums, clearly unconvinced, but not pushing.

“Carmen’s…he’s- he’s under a lot of pressure right now.”

You turn your head to look at him, eyes tired. “Yeah, well, so is everyone else. Doesn’t give him the right to treat people like that.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

The silence stretches again.

You glance down at the end of your cigarette, then up at the stars, or maybe it’s just the faint glow of the city haze.��

“I just…I didn’t come here for a fight,” you say, softer now. “I came to help. And he looked at me like I was the enemy.”

Luca tilts his head, looking at you. “You’re not.”

You meet his eyes for a moment, and something about the way he says it, quiet and certain, makes your chest clench.

The door bangs open again.

Carmen.

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees the two of you, just a beat too long to play it off. His eyes flick to the cigarette in your hand, then to Luca. Then back to you.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks.

You raised your eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“This. Out here. You two.”

You blink, stunned, then let out a short, bitter laugh. “Are you serious?”

“I’m just-” his voice tightens. “I didn’t know we were doing this now.”

“There is no this,” you say sharply. “And even if there was, it doesn’t concern you, like, at all. You made that pretty clear.”

Luca clears his throat, stepping slightly away like he’s trying to give space that doesn’t exist. 

“I was just offering a smoke. Chill, mate.”

Carmen’s jaw is clenched so tight you can practically hear his molars grinding.

You don’t wait for him to say anything else.

“You don’t get to care, Carmy,” you say. “You don’t get to act like this.”

He doesn’t respond, he can’t.

You toss the end of your cigarette to the ground, crush it beneath your shoe, and head inside.

Neither of them follows.

You don’t make it far.

Halfway down the hall, the sound of footsteps follows fast behind you.

You don’t turn around.

“Hey,” Carmen calls. “Wait- fuck, just…wait. Please.”

You stop, slowly turning to look at him.

He looks wrecked. Not in the usual work-tired way, but like, something is just unraveling behind his eyes.

“What do you want?” you ask, flatly.

He doesn’t answer right away. Runs a hand through his hair, paces two steps, then stops again. His breathing’s shallow.

“You never used to smoke,” he says finally, voice rough.

You blink. “What?”

“You never used to fucking smoke,” he repeats, louder now, like it matters far more than it should.

“And you used to call me Carmy. Now it’s Carmen?”

Something sharp tugs at your chest. “Yeah, well, you’re not the same either.”

He looks at you, eyes glassy, mouth opening and closing like he’s not sure which truth to say first. And then he says all of them, in a rush.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing anymore, okay? I’ve been angry, so- so fucking angry, ever since,” he pauses for a moment, voice cracking, “since Mikey…I’ve just been so fucking angry. Like every day, just…I’m so fucking mad at him, and I’m so…I’m just so fucking sad. Sad all the time. Like something’s just gnawing through my fucking chest, and it’s- it’s just so fucked up, because, he’s the one who’s not here, I should- I should feel bad, right? Like I shouldn’t be angry, what’s there to even be angry at, it’s not like he’s here, it’s not like he knows, I can’t fucking tell him off.”

His voice breaks, he fists his hands into his apron, and his voice is strained when he continues.

“And when you left, fuck, when you left it just felt like…I don’t know, but I just realized. I realized that I can’t keep fucking losing people. And I…I missed you. I miss you. Every fucking day of my life, and I was so angry back then too, and I just- I don’t want to keep losing people, I don’t want to keep losing you. I- I still love you.”

You stare at him.

At the way his hands are shaking. At the way he won’t look at you now that the words are out, like he’s afraid that you’ll take them and gut him with them at any second.

You should be angry.

Fuck, you were angry, for such a long fucking time.

But right now, all you can feel is this ache beneath it, beneath everything.

The weight of it all. Everything unsaid.

You sigh. It comes out shaky. Like the breath has been sitting in your lungs for months. No, years.

“I was angry too, you know,” you say. “Still am, sometimes.”

He looks at you, eyes rimmed red. 

“I waited,” you say. “I waited for you to say something. Anything. And when you didn’t, I thought- okay. I guess that’s it.”

“I didn’t know how-” he mutters, stopping, and then starting again, “I didn’t know what to say.”

“Yeah, well,” you blink hard, throat tight, “I didn’t know how to leave either, but I still had to.”

For a while you both just stand there, staring at each other, until Carmen breaks the silence.

“I waited for you,” he says. 

You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because it’s just too much.

Too cruel. 

Too full-circle.

“You, what?” You ask, incredulous. 

“I waited,” he repeats, “All these years, okay, I’ve waited. I mean…I hoped, and I…I just didn’t- I couldn’t imagine being with anyone but you.”

His voice breaks at the end, and you swear he looks how he did when you first met him in this moment. Younger. Hopeful. The man who used to hold your hand under tables, who used to cook for you when he didn’t know what else to say. The one who took your hand and placed it in the snow that day. The one who noticed in the first place.

Your breath stutters in your chest.

“Carmy, I-” you start, cutting yourself off, tired and sad. “You didn’t call. Not once.”

He winces. 

“I didn’t know if I had the right,” he says. “After everything…I just- I thought you would be better off. Without me.”

You shake your head, tears starting to leak out.

“You didn’t get to decide that for me, Carmen.”

He flinches at his name. 

“I know,” he says. Voice small. “I know that now.”

You wipe your face with the back of your hand, angry at the tears, at yourself, at him.

Mostly just at how much it all still hurts.

“I would’ve chosen you,” you whisper. “You just had to let me. You just had to choose me too.”

Carmen lets out a shaky breath, stepping forward like he wants to close the space but isn’t sure if he’s allowed.

“I was scared,” he admits. “Of ruining you. Of dragging you into- into my shit. I thought I was protecting you, but really…I was just running. Like always.”

He finally looks at you, really looks at you, and says, even quieter, “But I wanted you. I still want you.”

Something inside you shifts.

You don’t move, not yet.

But your voice is softer when you ask, “So, what is it that you really want?"

He sighs, reaches forward, takes your hand, just like that first night in Copenhagen all those years ago.

“I want you. I want you to stay, here, with me. I want us, again. I want to make you coffee in the mornings, I want to wake up with you, I want to lay awake at night with you, I want to be the one to smoke with you- I mean, I want you to quit, but I want-”

You can’t stop yourself from laughing.

It bubbles out of you, shaky from leftover tears, but a real laugh. Carmen stares at you, shocked.

“Jesus,” you say breathless. 

“What?”

He runs a hand through his hair, sheepish.

“You-,” you say, shaking your head. “You always make me laugh.”

Carmen’s brow furrows, like he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or if he should apologize for it. You can see the panic flicker in his eyes, like he’s waiting for the punchline to hurt.

“I mean it,” you say quickly, softer. “Even when I didn’t- don’t want to. Even when I was so fucking pissed at you, you’d say something dumb or just…look at me like that,” you gesture vaguely at him, “and it’d ruin the whole mood.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry?”

You shake your head again. “I mean- how am I supposed to be brooding and mad when you look at me like that.” 

He blinks, caught off guard, then laughs quietly, soft, almost embarrassed.

“That’s unfair,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

“Unfair?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. You know, being disarmed by me is just part of my charm.”

You grin, the tension easing between you.

“Well, it’s working.”

He steps closer, eyes searching yours.

“Can we do this?” he asks, “Please?”

You hold his gaze, heart hammering in your chest.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “We can try.”

He closes the distance, and when his lips brush yours, everything, the anger, the pain, the silence, seems to melt away, leaving only the certainty that this is where it starts.

[uhh-meg]

everyone loves a good sick fic so here's a hc/drabble if celine got sick (pre canon, part 1)

celine's not the type to get sick often, she has a stronger immune system than most and has relatively healthy habits, but ever since taking in rumi and running around solo, its safe to say her body is overworked.

it starts one morning, her phone's alarm blaring and vibrating on her bedside table, she usually wakes at its first noise, but today she's slept fifteen minutes more. celine thinks nothing of it and starts her morning routine. the first thing she does is check on rumi, who is thankfully still sleeping, then she fixes herself a cup of tea, does her morning stretches and starts making breakfast for the both of them- blueberry pancakes for rumi, because its saturday and she promised rumi she would make them if she aced her tests, and fried eggs for herself. she's unusually slow in her movements and experiences some dizziness, but she chalks it up to exhaustion.

rumi wakes at eight every day, the girl likes routines and can't seem to break out of them even if its the weekend. it's only when celine goes to greet rumi good morning, does her voice give out. rumi asks her if she's ok, and of course celine would say yes, she's not the type to even believe she can get sick, and besides, she wouldn't want to worry rumi.

luckily for celine, it's a rest day, she has no engagements or events to attend to, and rumi has no training to complete. unfortunately, celine doesn't know the definition of rest and continues to busy herself. she plans out lessons for rumi while eating, writes work emails, tends to her garden, and goes grocery shopping all before lunch. her throat is definitely getting worse, and her eyesight blurs, but it's not like she's willing to sit still for more than a minute.

rumi's been at celine's side all morning, watching her guardian with careful eyes. she knows celine too well and senses something off with her. she tried getting celine to slow down, tugging on her hand, saying they should head home, but celine already promised rumi that they'd go to the teddy bear museum (she was not going to break that promise, especially since rumi seemed so excited when she mentioned it yesterday.) even though rumi is thrilled at the thought, she's still concerned, she feels the heat of celine's hand in hers, but celine is so insistent that they end up going anyway.

celine can barely hold herself up at this point but she braves through the rest of the day, smiling every time rumi looks at her. rumi isn't convinced one bit, she sees the way her eyebrows knit and the tight line of her mouth that shifts off the smile when celine thinks rumi isn't watching. rumi makes up the best excuse a ten year old can- "celine my feet hurt can we go home"// "are you sure we just got here"

rumi hits her with her puppy eyes and how can celine say no to that

its on the drive home that she gets hit with a wave of nausea, and then she's willing herself to not throw up, after all she's the one driving, its not like she could just pull over and expel her guts for anyone to see (she has a reputation to uphold damn it!) somehow she makes it through the ride and by the time their home she practically collapses. rumi is now distraught, and celine is still insisting she's okay, "its nothing rumi I'm fine-" // "you're on the floor how are you fine"

now it's rumi's turn to take care of celine, so she mimics what celine does for her, by fetching her water and medication (she doesn't know what's the best kind yet, so she brings all she can find). even in with the pressure in her eyes and the dizziness she's fighting, celine thinks it's cute. she finds the fever reducer from the pile and takes it. celine stays on the floor for a little while longer, its not that she's can't get up, its just that the tile is cold and rumi is laying at her side and how could stop the impromptu cuddling, at least thats what she says to convince herself. the fever stays for three more days, but for once, she lets herself recharge and indulge in all the rumi cuddles.

[nightsmarish]

Summary: you get quite tearful after surgery

A/N: a nearly identical retelling of me after my surgery last November, except I had my mother, not a pretty wizard. Dittany is the cat from this fic

Remus Lupin x gn!reader | 991 words | modern au and maybe muggle au bc of the movie

tw: leg surgery, iv, hospital, hotel Transylvania,

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡

Do you know how to breathe?

Breathing feels like something everyone knows how to do. And you think you’re breathing, but you aren’t confident in anything you think at the moment. 

Your eyes barely open, bright lights, constant beeping, and non stop chatter surrounding you. You just look off, noticing a few other patients in their own semi-private rooms.

You notice the unbelievably heavy weight on your left leg, you want to move it. You should be able to move it, right? Most of the population can move their legs. 

Apparently you aren’t a part of that majority because a nurse quickly rushes over to stop you from moving. 

“Hi, honey,” she smiles, she's very pretty, “let's pause the moving for now, okay?”

You don’t speak, can you speak? Your throat feels weird. So do your sinuses. So you just trail her with your eyes. Carefully she looks you over, checking under the blanket that covers you to see that you didn’t disturb your leg at all. 

“How are you feeling? Any pain?” She grabs a chart next to your bed and leaves through the information. 

“Uh…” Do you feel pain? You definitely don’t feel great, achy definitely, “Maybe?” 

“Okay, I’ll give you half a dose of medication now, okay?” she smiles again, placing down your chart and grabbing a vial of something to put into you iv drip, “Do you need anything else? I believe you have a visitor if you want me to get them.”

Oh.

Oh. 

Yes. Yes, you’re boyfriend. Remus. 

He drove you, didn’t he? Oh god, has he been waiting the whole time? What time is it even? He's so lovely, so caring. Of course he’s been here, he wouldn’t leave while you have surgery. 

Wait, that's why your throat feels weird, you’re gonna cry. 

“Uh- yes. Please.” You slur your words a bit, both from the strange feeling that washes over your body from all the meds you’ve been given in the past few hours and because you don’t want to cry in front of a poor nurse. 

With a reassuring nod, she quickly finishes adding the pain medication to your iv and walks off to the waiting room.

Your head begins to pound, sinuses throbbing as tears brim your eyes. Why are you crying? No clue. 

After an unknown amount of time, a messy head of sandy colored hair appears in your vision. 

“Hello, love.” His smile is so bright it warms your heart. He's so pretty, tired and in pajamas since he's been here since four in the morning. Before you know if you're crying. 

Big, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as your bottom lip juts out. 

Remus’ eyes widen almost comically as he places a gentle hand on your shoulder, sitting in the seat next to your bed, “Oh, honey…” he worries, “Are you okay, are you in pain?” 

“You’re so lovely.” you sob out, hand not connected to an iv reaching for his face, cupping his cheek clumsily, "I love you so much.” 

“Oh.” a small blush seems to break out over his cheeks, smile sheepish and unbelievably adorable, “thats very sweet of you-”

“You’re so amazing!” you cut him off, hanging your head like this is some sort of declaration before you die even though you will be home in under an hour, “I can’t believe you’re mine.” 

“Caraid- please.” he laughs a little, looking around the room where plenty of people, nurses and patients alike can undoubtedly hear you, “You are lovely as well, but how about we take a deep breath, okay?” 

You nod, hand still cradling his cheek as you take a slow, deep breath. Repeating a few more times with the help of Remus, you are able to calm down. No longer making declarations of love through broken sobs. 

“Good job,” he moves your hand from his face and carefully holds it in his warm hand, thumb stroking over the back of your hand, “now, what would you like to do when we get home? Would you like a nap? Perhaps watch a movie? You must be tired, lovely.”

You think for a moment, watching his hands hold yours. Then, your lip juts out, and you are crying all over again.

“Can we watch Hotel Transylvania? All of them?” you look into his eyes, pleading.

“Of course we can.” he looks horribly amused, “why are we crying again?” “Because Dracula lost his wife!” you sob louder than you should in such an environment. 

“Yes-” he rushes to console you, “but he finds love! It's okay, he's happy.”

“But his wife.” you sob quietly now, almost to yourself. 

“What are we crying about over here?” the doctor you met before your surgery parts your privacy curtains, treatment plan folder in hands. 

“We are just-”

“His wife died!” you cut Remus off again, sobbing over this fictional vampire like he's a real person. 

“Who’s…” The doctor looks confused, glancing to Remus for input.

“The vampire from Hotel Transulvania.” He shrugs apologetically. 

“I’m sorry,” The doctor laughs, trying to remain professional, “Anyways, we have your treatment plan here. The pain killers have been sent to your pharmacy, administered every 8 hours, your first dose however will be in four hours. No walking and complete bed rest. If pain worsens, go to the nearest A&E, okay?” 

Remus nods, still rubbing up and down your arm as you lean onto his shoulder, still crying, “thank you, that sounds wonderful.” 

“No problem,” the doctor hands over a read folder, “All the information you will need will be in there, if you have questions you can call the number. For now, how about we get a wheel chair and get you two home?” 

With some effort, a lot of crying, declarations of love, and giggles, you eventually make it home and into bed, Dittany curled next to you on your pillow, and Remus playing Hotel Transylvania one. 

You cried during it.

[motherofpirates]

“I’m sure I can see something following us.” Robin said in an emotionless tone, as she glared at the big man, before she and El turned to look once again over the water.

“That would be inconceivable, we have a huge head start, no one could possibly catch us.” Hopper rolled his eyes in derision.  

“Despite what you think, you will be caught.” Steve said drawing the big man’s attention his way. “And when you are, the prince will see that you are hung.” He narrowed his eyes at the ship’s captain. He didn’t think the other two deserved the same sentence, from what he had learned about them they were simply doing what they were doing to survive. This ship was infinitely better than the situations they had previously found themselves in, no wonder they were doing Hopper’s bidding if they felt like it was the only option they had.

“Of all the necks on this boat, highness, the one you should worry about is your own.” Hopper said threateningly. Robin and El once again looked over the bow of the ship that Robin was steering, making Hopper focus his attention on them.

“Stop doing that, Buckley, it’s almost over, we’re nearly at the Cliffs of Insanity. No one in Guilder knows what we’ve done and no one in Florin could have gotten here so fast.” Hopper huffed and wiggled down getting himself more comfortable on the pile of ropes he sat on, he placed his hands behind his head. “Why do you keep looking over there?” His curiosity had finally got the better of him.

“I-I looked over and that ship is definitely gaining on us.” Robin stood nervously wringing her hands as Hopper joined the other two at the bow of the ship.

“Don’t be ridiculous! It’s probably some fisherman getting an early start before his competitors.” Hopper squinted into the distance.

With them all distractedly looking at the closing vessel Steve thought it would be his best option for his escape, he was a good swimmer having spent his youth with the other village kids swimming at a lake near the village. He would simply swim to the other ship, and they would rescue him. He shook off the ropes and took a running leap overboard. The water was colder than expected but wasn’t anything he couldn’t cope with, he forged his way through the waves to the ship in the distance, his rich clothes heavier now than when they were dry.

He could hear a commotion erupt behind him as the three of them realised what had happened. That wasn’t what bothered him. An eerie cacophony had erupted around him that was growing louder with each passing moment. His heart began to race as he panicked, something beneath the surface brushed against his leg making him jump.

“Do you know what that sound is, highness?” Hopper’s voice travelled over the water to him with barely concealed glee. Steve turned to see him, treading water, his heart in his throat. “Those are the Shrieking Eels, they only grow louder when they’re about to feed on human flesh! If you come back now, I promise you no harm will come to you.” Steve thought this was highly unlikely, something brushed his shoulder as the sound grew to deafening proportions. Out of the corner of Steve’s eye a large creature reared out of the water moving towards him at speed, there was no way he could escape-

“You know, Dustin, Steve doesn’t get eaten by the eels at this point.” Wayne said kindly. breaking Dustin out of his imagination. He found that he was gripping his comforter for dear life, his eyes were dry from not blinking, as he had been staring at Wayne.

“Son of a bitch!” Dustin said incredulously. “It was just getting good!”

“I was just reassuring you, because you’re looking nervous.” Wayne patted his shoulder. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of my nephew always used to get het up at this bit too.”

“I’m not nervous, this is the best bit yet,” Dustin whined. “Maybe I was a little bit concerned about Steve’s welfare but that’s not the same thing.”

“We can take a break now if you want.” Wayne offered.

“Are you insane, you can’t stop there! I need to know what happens to Steve!” Dustin exclaimed, making Wayne chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“Fine, fine, where were we?” He scanned the page.

“…Out of the corner of Steve’s eye a large creature reared out of the water moving towards him at speed, there was no way he could escape. Suddenly he was lifted from the water by an unseen force, his limbs flailing to get purchase on thin air, and plonked unceremoniously on the deck soaking wet where El placed a blanket over him to keep him warm whilst Hopper retied his bonds.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you enjoyed this snippet of As You Wish, Chapter One: The Groom you can find it here on A03. Shout out to my amazing beta @sheldarp and to @wheneverfeasible and @beingmissbatty because they were interested in this fic

[anyacad0]

ok trailer Analysis time. This isn't the 3.5 trailer, but seemingly the trailer for the entirety of the second half Amphoreus, so a lot of the things in here are likely to not show up in 3.5.

the trailer description seems to be a conversation between the Trailblazer and Cyrene. There isn't any super important meaning as far as I can tell, it's just saying that it's theoretically impossible to save Amphoreus but that they're going to try anyway.

to begin with, we get a recap of sorts of the first half, though out of order/

this hand, with armour similar to Mydei's, appears to attempt to break the chains of Castrum Kremnos. This probably symbolises him ending the dynasty.

next, Castorice and Pollux in Styxia, with the former's eyes covered.

Hyacine appearing to take flight, probably symbolising her return to the skies. Her eyes are covered too. The buildings in the corner look weirdly like the daytime version of Styxia shown in the special program.

the camera pans up through the clouds and we get March 7th, in her new form, eating Amphoreus. Given her jellyfish motif, this maybe symbolises Amphoreus being consumed by the Enigmata, which could also be related to the "forgotten years" ie. the chunks of simulation data that straight up went missing.

her sleeve zipper almost looks like a mouth, which could mean a lot of things but might be related to this idea of "consuming".

Also, in case the very edgy design didn't give it away: she'll evil now. But she probably won't be for long.

the logo appears, and then we go back to the recap: Aglaea with her garmentmakers holding her at swordpoint, referencing her suicide in order to turn Okhema against the Elders.

Tribbie "reuniting" with Trianne and Trinnon. There's also these coloured threads which seem to be the same ones that form Amphoreus' infinity symbol.

Next, Anaxa holding some kind of fire, with the same coloured threads around him. I think this is a reference to Plato's Cave, with him being the one to discover the source of what Amphoreus considered to be reality.

Cipher, laid to rest with Zagreus. There's one coin that keeps spinning, not decided between heads or tails, which could hint that her lies outlived her, but I'm pretty unsure.

And finally, Phainon fusing with the Flame Reaver before burning himself away.

There's a flashback to the Trailblazer returning the Deliverance Coreflame, since they are the Deliverer now, and then we see Lygus' boss form from the special program.

This shot is definitely from 3.5: The Trailblazer and Hysilens fighting Lygus in the Vortex Of Genesis.

Cerydra and Hysilens fighting together, establishing their relationship as girlfriends commander and knight.

and last but not least, Dan Heng, presumably with the Earth Coreflame. This is a bit of a weird shot but I wanted to get the whole of cloudpiercer 2.0 in because I think it's pretty important.

red March 7th again. Both her and Dan Heng's new forms are very similar to their bas appearances, looking more like evolutions then something completely new. We can also now be sure that the jellyfish are in fact jellyfish and not just flowers (though they might actually be both).

also, Herta and Screwllum. The special program suggested that they'll become much more involved in Amphoreus' second half.

All the Amphoreus-native Chrysos Heirs, minus cyrene, returning the coreflames- all twelve of them, even though three Heirs are missing. The monument in the background is new.

Cyrene in a new place that resembles parts of Elysium Everlasting. This could perhaps be where she waited each cycle while upholding her part of the plan.

Cerydra pointing a sword at her throat. It's made very clear that she'd gladly give her life for victory, so this alone isn't surprising. However, it goes against the admin entry claiming Hysilens killed her. This could be the work of the Enigmata?

March disintegrating into shards of ice while the ice around her turns red and begins to reflect the flower jellyfish. Cyrene did say that she could lose herself if she entered Amphoreus so that's probably what this shot depicts.

Dan Heng waiting somewhere for a very long time, long enough that this plant grows around Cloudpiercer. This makes sense if he ends up trapped underground with Terravox like the As I've Written entry implies.

Cyrene who is literally just Elysia now, joining hands with the Trailblazer, seemingly in the same location as her earlier appearance.

Cyrene then turns into this puzzle piece which the Trailblazer catches. Weirdly enough, puzzle pieces are associated with the Harmony, while Cyrene is connected to the Remembrance. We also had March becoming seemingly connected to the Enigmata. It could be that the simulation is starting to confuse Paths as Chrysos Heirs prove themselves too complex and human to be defined by a singular Primum Mobile.

Next there's a sequence of the Express Crew and Cyrene walking through many places. I'm not going to screenshot everything but I'll list everything.

Location 1: Aedes Elysiae.

-March 7th (not evil) doesn't walk forward, but takes a photo of everyone

-Welt pulls his cane out

Location 2: the abyss where the Express Car crashed

-Sunday appears and walks with the Express Crew

-Black Swan appears up ahead

-Dan Heng waves to March, and then she disappears

-the Stellaron Hunters appear in the background

-Aglaea appears to the side

-Tribbie appears behind Aglaea and runs forward

Location 3: Okhema

-Welt disappers

-Castorice appears in front, and Mydei behind near where Welt was and begins following

-Anaxa appears and walks forward, while Himeko, Dan Heng and Sunday disappear

-Cipher appears, runs forward and disappears

-Hyacine appears and starts walking forward

Location 3: Styxia (Or some other evernight ruin) - Tribbie and Aglaea disappear

-Dan Heng (new form) reappears

-Mydei, Anaxa and Hyacine disappear

Location 4: not sure where this is

-Phainon appears and greets the Trailblazer and Cyrene

-March 7th (new form) appears

-Hysilens, Cerydra, Herta and Screwllum appear

Location 5: Cyrene's realm from her earlier appearances (I think)

-Phainon disappears

Location 6: Phainon's ultimate territory

Cyrene says something to the Trailblazer and all the remaining characters run forward to attack.

This, combined with the fact that she walked alongside the Trailblazer, is why I think the new March will eventually regain herself in this form rather than it only being the "corrupted" version of her. The way she smiles is much more normal than the creepy smile earlier in the trailer.

They all rush forward to attack some kind of black hole, combining their powers for the Trailblazer to do a cool anime attack

We see a flash of Khaslana's halo before this creature appears. Most likely it's irontomb fused with Phainon, with gold armour and black hole attack really resembling Khaslana.

Also, March fights with the umbrella. Just thought that was neat.

I've run out of images. Part 2 in reblogs in like 20 minutes :(

[karisana]

guess who it is AYY 🪬

i love your work sm its actually so yummy 👅👅

could we do like, headcanons of the whole band? i think itd be cutesy and open up cool prompts to more than one group of ppl ( if that makes sense)

band x hypersensitive reader? its super up to you whatever you do with this

youre super duper cool and i love ur writing smm!! take breaks and eat and drink nd all that good stuff

ur so cool twin

-🪬

it’s all too much

a/n: SURPRISE!!! it came today instead of tomorrow!! okay so if it wasnt obvious from my follow up post to this ask, i dont know a lot about hypersensitivity 😭 but since you specified that it was emotional that helped a lot! tried my best to do as much research as i could on this, i hope i got it accurate :) also ive never written headcanons before so this was kinda awkward for me and i dont think they turned out very well.. but hopefully there will be improvement 😓 these were really fun to write though!! i think headcanons are my favorite form of writing, i love to read headcanons so this was nice to do! also i tried doing the small font thing for the hcs, idk how i feel about them... i might go back and change it later 💀

paul :

• i think paul would be the most reassuring and comforting in this scenario

• it might be a bit awkward for him if the emotions you're feeling are negative assuming he's never met someone who deals with these struggles, but he makes it a point to learn what helps you to make you feel better or calm down as soon as possible

•  though, at first he might make comments like "there's nothing to worry about, love." only because he doesn't realize that doesn't help you at all and he'll see no issue with it until you have to tell him.

•  he comes to appreciate it after a while, the positive emotions at least. especially since you're more responsive to what other's need and empathetic, that could definitely be a big help to him, especially around the time the band was falling apart.  

john :

• john would (unfortunately 💔) likely be a bit of a dick about this at first.

• again, assuming they've never had to deal with anyone like this, let alone a partner, he would just brush it off and tell you you're being dramatic over nothing.

• another one that you would have to explain your feelings to and why those feelings are so heightened. 

• after though, he'd become more aware of your condition and keep his eyes on you if you're ever in a place where you could start feeling overstimulated or in any stressful situations you're going through.

• not at all afraid to tell someone off if they ever say anything negative about you or your sensitivity.

george :

• i think george would be the most responsive towards your feelings, not loudly in the way the others might be, though.

• his support shows up more as him silently grabbing your hand and pulling you out of a crowd when he notices you're starting to get overwhelmed.

• he's a bit of a difficult one though, he has his moments where he talks a lot and you get more of that when you officially get together but most of the time he does just prefer to be quiet.

• you sometimes mistake his silence for something that it's not and get frustrated because you can't understand exactly why he's being so quiet. especially because you're more sensitive to people's feelings, not being able to read his makes you feel like theres a lack of connection between you two.

• you have to eventually sit down and talk about it since its led you to have many emotional outbursts before. you get the clarity you need, even if you still worry ocassionally, he's always there to reassure you.

ringo :

• ringo, naturally, makes a bit of a joke out of your sensitivity. it might sound mean at first but he really doesn't mean to say anything with ill intent, he just likes to tease.

• he'll often use jokes and funny distractions when you're feeling a lot, almost trying to escape or avoid the seriousness of your situation.

• yet another one you have to talk to about this. he'll tone down the teasing after you guys talk but it does still slip out every now and then.

• he does start to reassure you a lot, i think that's something he would like from a partner given how he's often undermined next to the other guys.

• of course its different reassurance, but reassurance nonetheless. he wants to return the sentiment, especially if it'll make you feel better about your sensitivity.

• overall, he's pretty good about, mostly just trying his best even if it doesn't seem like it.

[kazusys]

modern au! drabbles. ft. sumeru boys.

short modern au! drabbles about the sumeru boys! / fluff / no cw / other: anemo boys vers. (❕) a/n: part 2 part 2 part 2! this has been sitting in my drafts for a bit, but thankfully the need to write for tighnari got me to finish it! tagging -> @aritsukemo

characters included: alhaitham, cyno, kaveh, and tighnari.

wc: 850+ words

coffee order? memorized. favorite films and books? watched and read and ready to discuss. favorite snacks? always stocked up in case you ever decide to drop by and for study sessions.

speaking of study sessions…

they’re usually either one of two things: one, being quiet with the both of you focused on your own separate things, or two, studying together with him softly speaking in a manner you find rather out of character for the guy, but comforting nonetheless.

gives his headphones to you to listen to music if you need background noise to focus, while he probably owns a pair of noise cancellers to block out the noise of background chatter if you two are in a public setting.

MOVIE NIGHTS. but intellectual movie nights. movies in a different language, movies with diverse plots, movies that are on the quiet side, movies that make you think, and classics— whenever he’s choosing.

when it runs further into the night, you sometimes end up drifting off (either from the day you had or because alhaitham’s pick of movies are a bit sleep-inducing…). but alhaitham can’t really find himself complaining, especially when your head rests so nicely on his shoulder. and waking up with your arms wrapped around him and his around you isn’t a bad outcome, either.

(kaveh definitely took pictures and shared them to the world.)

his jokes are still… not the best. but the joke books and media searches he’s done helps… not that much either. they might be even worse.

always wins against you at genius invokation tcg, or any other board or card game you bring up to him (unless it’s based on luck. then anyone can win) because every time he plays you, he has a goal. before every match, he promises himself that if he wins he has to do something, which usually translates to asking you to lunch or watching a movie or something. it’s a way to boost his confidence to ask you from the rush of winning and whatnot (you figured out the pattern ages ago, so when you finally managed a win you asked him out somewhere instead).

funny-bad movie binge watching…

seeks out your hand whenever in public, just to keep you close and safe; leading many to believe that you two are dating, even when you aren’t (yet).

searches online for tips on “how to speak and act around your crush,” but hardly remembers them when he’s around you, because all he feels is the comfort to be himself.

is invited constantly to your home, and despite him feeling guilty, relishes in being there. his mind can jog peacefully with no annoying roommate to disturb or vex him and you as his muse, translating his emotions into works of art. it’s so domestic, and every time you tell him to take a break or bring him something to eat when he’s working, he falls in love again and again and prays that he’ll never lose this peace.

likes simply sitting and chatting with you, the television in the background on a low volume as you both munch on something.

sometimes takes your hands in his and draws patterns on them when talking. it started from you holding his hands whenever he seemed to get antsy about upcoming projects and tests and all that to him doing it naturally.

likes building lego sets and those wood building kits, feels really guilty whenever you spend your money on them for him because those builds can sometimes be pretty expensive…

imagines his future with you. the domestic life… waking up to your face every morning… the house that you both designed for a “project” of his… and immediately the urge to work comes to surface, kaveh ready to overexert himself so that that future can one day be a reality.

did campouts with you outside in the backyard when you two were little. also taught you how to climb a tree safely (and patched you up whenever you fell).

HAD A TREEHOUSE THAT HE SHARED WITH YOU.

literally barges into your room once he catches wind that you’re sick. bedridden? not on his watch! will spend days with you watching whatever you want to watch or reading out loud whatever book you want to read, sticking by you and nursing you until you’re better.

likes watching documentaries with you, specifically about plant and animal life. it can get boring sometimes, but the way his face lights up just the slightest bit when you agree to watch them with him makes the experience a lot better than you thought.

calls you randomly. it could just be to say hi or to simply hear your voice, most calls occurring during his breaks in between studying.

alhaitham, cyno, and kaveh definitely tease him whenever he perks up hearing your name or the specialized ringtones he has for you. he could be so locked in studying and whatnot but then be completely distracted once you’re brought in. it’s sort of comical, actually.

decorated his notebooks with stickers he made himself of pictures of you across all the pages in the margins… it “helps him retain the info” as he put it.

[four-toast]

hiii

I am going crazy about your girldad rosekiller au it’s literally consuming me

I read one of your posts that said that Nessa witnessed a few of Barty’s episodes. How do you think Evan would deal with this in the later years?

Also, I just love the idea of this little girl in a princess dress running up to someone and the dads are just. Rosekiller with all their tattoos and piercings and whatnot. The type of people that would make some homophobic old shrew at the supermarket die

-🦝

ANOTHER NEW ANON???? Welcome to the madness, I hope you enjoy your stay lol

Firstly, THANK YOU so much. It's consuming me too, so I'm glad I have people to share it with.

So fun fact, the one shot I'm currently working on actually deals with your question lol. I won't give too much away, but basically Nessa sneaks out, Barty's off his meds, and when she comes home, he loses it. They get into a pretty nasty screaming match, Evan steps in and tells them they need to go to bed, and then he's kind of left to just pick of the pieces (I need to write something happy because I feel like I've put Evan through enough and this whole family just needs a break).

In general, Evan's got conflicted feelings about Barty's episodes. On the one hand, he knows they're not his fault and he knows that Barty's really struggling. At the same time, he hates that Nessa has to see her dad like that, so he's also a wee bit angry at Barty. I think Evan's always put a lot of pressure on himself to be sort of the glue that holds their family together and after a while, that starts to take it's toll. He tries really hard to act like he's fine for Nessa, but I can guarantee you that the minute he's alone, he breaks down. Dude has cried in the shower more times than he'd like to admit. Also, he feels an odd mix of relief and sadness every time they send Nessa off to Hogwarts. He doesn't have to pretend Barty's "situation" doesn't have a huge impact on him but he also misses Nessa immensely, so he falls into a depressive funk for a while.

I don't think Barty realises how much Evan struggles until Nessa goes to school. Like, her first year was ROUGH. Let's just say that Evan decided it was HIS turn to spiral... He stopped wanting to go into work, leaving Barty to run the shop pretty much alone (they had help by this time though), and started drinking. Most days, by the time Barty got home, Evan was either absolutely hammered or passed out. But, as usual, Nessa's the one who snaps him out of it. He doesn't want her to see him like that, especially because he's supposed to be her rock. He's supposed to be the stable one, the reliable one, the one who's there when no one else is.

Nessa is the most important person in their lives, and she knows this. She knows she's loved, but she also knows her dads have a lot of issues and aren't perfect. She's what really made them "grow up" and want to change. They wanted to do something good for a change. (And I personally think they did a very good job, despite their flaws)

And yes, people are ALWAYS shocked when they meet Nessa and then meet her dads. Sort of like "how did this little princess come from those two?" 😂 As for homophobic old shrews, they've definitely put quite a few of them in their place lol. I'd say there's only one interaction with a homophobe that doesn't end well, and it may or may not have something to do with Nessa's bio mom...

Thanks for the ask!! This was a great question!

[h0pelesslydevoted]

Cowboy!Dallas x rodeo owner’s daughter!reader

summery: your father have forbidden the two of you to see each other. but what if it’s an accident?.

warnings: Fluff

𝄞☆ ✦ ★ ‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🏵️

Your father runs and owns the Rodeo that operates from the start of spring till the end of summer.

He sees all types of “cowboys” come and go, but one that never left was Dallas winston. The infamous troublemaker and heartbreaker.

he always told you stay stir clear from this boy, but in your defence, you had never seen him before.

Until today.

You were under the shade of the food tent where you sat on a fold out chair reading a magazine. Your father had made you come to work with him today, but you weren’t complaining too much since you liked the atmosphere of the rodeo. Excited fans, the food, the actual horse riding and the break from your day to day life.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a voice you didn’t recognize.

“hey you larry’s daughter?.” You look up at the boy, tall with dark features, and handsome, very handsome.

“sure am’ how did you know?.” you said leaning back in the chair. He smirked and then grabbed some carrots and shoved them into his pockets.

“he’s mentioned you a couple times, and you look like him a lil bit.” You tilted your head and lowered your magazine, now he’s got your attention. your father has mentioned you? now why would he do that?.

He grabbed a handful of nuts from the table and threw a couple into his mouth. “definitely prettier though.” he continued.

“i’ve known you for 2 minutes and you’re already flirting?.” You teased, but flattered with his compliment.

“ay, a guy can’t call a girl pretty without flirting?. But you don’t seem to hate it do ya?.” he snorts before tossing another few nuts into his mouth. he leans back against the food table watching your every move.

you couldn’t respond to that, you just huffed and decided to change the subject.

“what’s my dad mentioned me for anyway.”

“euh, just telling me stupid shit like ‘you stay away from my daughter or you’re not getting this job.’ or like ‘if i catch you with my daughter you’re fired’.”

he mocked your father tone and it made you laugh. but why would your father care so much about this boy?.

“you’re walking on quite thin ice i guess.” you replied with a small smile.

“yeah well, i’m only doing this ‘job’ because i’ve got nothing else going on. so i’m willing to take that chance sweetheart.” he replies in a smug voice, you scoff and stand up from your chair.

“oh shut it, i’m going to go see the horses.” you walked out of the tent with Dallas the puppy dog following closely behind you.

“why does my dad not want you to be around me?.” you ask as you two reach the stables. you walked over to your favourite horse Maelie and pet her side.

“i have a certain reputation that’s all.” he said walking over to his horse he was riding today.

he has a reputation?, and your father doesn’t want him to talk to you- oh shit. this is that Dallas winston..

“what did you say your name was?.” you asked curiously, looking over at him feeding carrots to his horse from his pockets.

“i didnt, its Dallas. Winston.”

“ohh that’s right.”

“what.”

“nothing. just uh, my dad has told me to never entertain you.” you chuckled nervously now avoiding his gaze.

“hm, i guess he can’t find out then can he?.” he said in a tone so low it was almost seducing.

“wish me good luck on the riding today, i think i’ll need it.” he continued, now coming up to you and placing his hand under your forearm, it was almost comforting.

“Good luck, but i’ve heard you’re not bad.” you said taking a carrot from his hand and feeding it to Maelie.

“well you’ll just have to see for yourself.” he said leaned back against the stable wall.

“we’ll see.”

and you did see, you saw very clearly. Dallas riding his horse around barrels and in races. he was pretty good, and god did he look good while doing it.

after the rodeo ended you were leaving with your dad when you saw Dallas waiting by the barn.

“daddy i uh, i forgot something just give me a sec.” you said, leaving your dad walking back to the car and you walk over to Dallas out of sight from your dad.

Dallas watches you walk over to him and takes a drag from his cigarette before tossing it nearby.

“ah, there she is. i thought you were going to leave without saying goodbye.”

You reached for his hand and turned it over to his palm. he looked at you in confusion but also curiosity.

You got a pen from your back pocket and wrote your number onto his hand.

“maybe i’ll see you soon.” you said letting go of his hand.

“i’ll call yuh, okay?.” he said taking a small step towards you. You nodded and watched as he leaned his head down and pecked your cheek. you flush, and step away giving him a wave before turning on your heel and walking back to your dad’s car.

[brittscafe]

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐮𝐭

Pairing: Byakuya Kuchiki x m!dom! reader

Summary: Byakuya has been stressed lately because of all his work, so you decide to take some stress off his shoulders.

Request: 🖤🌸 anon here hallo hi. wanna request some spicy valentines for Byakuya because he needs it ☺️ "Spread your legs, baby. Wider." Prompt with m!dom! Reader :)

A/n: Helloooo hiiii! I have been getting quite a few requests for Byakuya, he seems popular lately 👀 Also, please bare with me as I'm still working on being somewhat good on writing for m! reader <3 Please, forgive meee for this piece coming out so late as you can probably tell it was requested around Valentine's Day and here we are...in july 😭

Content: NSFW, m!dom! reader.

The knot in between Byakuya's eyebrows only seems to grow with each passing day and you can't help but notice. There is no Byakuya without stress, it's practically his middle name, but this is too much.

Byakuya could feel the stress building up in his pants, it's hard for him to not notice it and you as well as you enter your shared room.

You can instantly tell from the moment you walk in that something is not right with Byakuya. He's got a huge knot in between his eyebrows, dark bags under his eyes, and an attitude.

Usually he'll greet you, but not tonight. Not even a hello or a hi, something is definitely up with him.

"What's got your pants in a twist?" you scoff out, cocking an eyebrow as Byakuya clenches his jaw. If he clenches any harder, he's going to break a few teeth.

Byakuya lets out a huff of anger and emotions all in a swirl. "Nothing. It's just work..." Byakuya comments harshly and you cross your arms over your chest.

You walk over to Byakuya and cup his cheek. Byakuya seems to relax instantly and lean into your touch, still looking at you with his same intense eyes though.

"Maybe, you just need something to get your mind off of work," you suggest, a sly smirk forming along your face. Byakuya chuckles slightly and even cracks a bit of smile.

"And what would that be?" he asks, curiously. Then, you crash your lips onto his, capturing them in a passionate, fiery kiss. Byakuya is caught off guard from the intense kiss, moaning into your mouth.

You back up until Byakuya's pinned against the wall, your tongue sliding into his mouth and clashing with his. Byakuya clings onto you desperately, fingers digging into your skin.

You slide a hand underneath his shirt and you can feel Byakuya's body jolt from your touch. Your hand roams around his abdomen, feeling him and his soft skin.

You pull away from the kiss, grabbing onto his waist and pulling him over to the bed.

"Take off your pants," you demand harshly. Byakuya's cheeks turn a flush pink as he obeys you, quickly taking off his pants. You gaze down at his hardness in his boxers.

You let out a tiny chuckle and cock an eyebrow. "I bet you want me to touch you so badly, huh?" you tease him, running your hand over his cock.

Byakuya whimpers and nods his head. "Please," his voice is barley above a whisper. Your fingers play around the hem of his boxers, teasing him as Byakuya's eyes beg for you to dominate him.

"Lay down," you speak sternly. Byakuya lays down in the middle of the bed, anxious and waiting for what you have planned for him. You climb onto the bed and above him.

You hook your fingers underneath his boxers and pull them down. Byakuya lifts up his hips to guide you in taking them off, where they are soon tossed onto the ground.

Your eyes flicker down to Byakuya's cock, hard and leaking from the tip. You let out a low rumbly chuckle and Byakuya gulps, squeezing his thighs closer.

You place a hand on his inner squeeze and slowly pull apart his thighs. Byakuya's eyes widen and his lips fall apart, watching as you expose him.

"Spread your legs, baby." you demand. Byakuya hesitates, but slowly spreads his thighs a part, revealing himself to you. "Wider," your voice is low and husky.

Then Byakuya's legs are spread as his heart is pounding against his chest. Your eyes flicker over his figure for a moment, admiring him.

The way his long black hair is tucked behind his ears, his slanted eyes, and hands gripping onto the sheets. You slowly reach out and wrap your fingers around his length, pumping it once.

Byakuya lets out a choked gasp and his eyelids flutter. "Shit," he mumbles out. Byakuya's more sensitive today, you can tell by the way your touch affects him.

"Y/n, please," Byakuya whines out, bucking up his hips into your hand. You didn't realize you had stopped moving your hand until Byakuya made it very well known.

"Oh, somebody's not very patient. You want me to touch you more?" you ask, hand resting on his cock. Byakuya twists his body and eagerly nods his head.

"Please," he begs you so pathetically. You hum as your hand starts to pump his length and the heavy breathing begins. Byakuya's fingers become tangled in the sheets as each pump of your hand sends a wave of pleasure through him.

"Don't be shy now," you tease him. Byakuya reaches out his hands, but you grab onto his wrists and pin his hands above his head. His cheeks are flushed and he tears his gaze away from you.

You speed up the pace of your pumping, making sure to go slow around his sensitive tip. A moan falls from Byakuya's lips and it's like music to your ears.

The pleasure ripples through Byakuya's body as cock is handled with such care. "Y/n," Byakuya moans out, leaning his head back.

"What? Can't handle it?" you ask, thumb rubbing along his mushroom tip. Byakuya gasps slightly and lets out a series of stumbling moans that fill the room.

Byuakya whimpers and bucks his hips up into your moving hand, pleasuring him in such ways that make his head spin. The way your hand moves up and down along his cock, pumping it firmly and rapidly, makes Byakuya's eyes roll into the back of his hand.

You're towering over him, pinning him down into the mattress and making all the stress go away. "S-shit. I'm close," Byakuya's breath hitches, his voice thick with need and a sly smirk dances along your face.

"Go ahed and let loose, Byakuya. I know it feels too good," you whisper, licking your bottom lip. You speed up your pace, hand pumping his length as Byakuya's mouth stretches open. His body jolts and Byakuya cries out, cum shooting out of his tip.

He sits up slightly, panting heavily and moaning as more cum spurts out over the bed and your hand. "That's it," you coo, hand slowing down as Byakuya's length simmers down.

Byakuya pants heavily with furrowed eyebrows and body tired after exploding with immense pleasure. Your thumb rubs against his sensitive tip and Byakuya whimpers, tugging away.

"Aw, you're so sensitive," you chuckle out, cupping his cheek and brushing his soft skin with your thumb. Byakuya's eyes are glassy with pleasure and his cheeks are red.

"I'm not!" Byakuya pouts out and you shake your head. Your other hand runs up and down his side.

"You're very fiesty, Byakuya. I thought we got all that pent up stress out," you tease him and his eyes widen. He tears his gaze away from you and playfully slaps your arm.

"We did," he huffs out, a tiny smile on his face.